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This is first one i started in almost 10 years and i plan on finishing this and my other 2. I hope you Enjoy! Prologue "Elizabeth I cant do this anymore, at first I loved the idea of being your sub and doing stuff together but I just cant, you refuse to even try age-play with me. I'm done were done I've tried time and time again to work everything out with you and you don't want to do it so I'm done Bye." "SARAH WAIT! PLEASE DON'T GO SARAH I'LL CHANGE, I'LL BE A BETTER PERSON PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU, what have I done the only person I've ever cared for and shes gone, she just gone" Chapter 1 The beginning Emily Garcia. Had a hard life nothing liked to go her way, her parents where killed by a drunk driver when she was 5, she ended up staying in a orphanage tell she was 13 and runaway ware she never looked back. I'll give a Little back story about myself, I'm 4 foot 1 I haven't really grown at all sense I was 13 I'm now almost 16 and I've been living off the streets trying to survive. It's getting to the point where i think I need to find a place to hide, cause winter is almost here and once it gets here, I'm good as dead if i don't have shelter. I see a small run out building I think I'll hide inside it for a while it's starting to get cold out, I'm just happy I still got the few things in this world I need my photo of mom and dad and the stuffed animal they bought me, Sharky the cat. I really need to find a way to fix him and clean him up hes all dirty and I think his eye wants to fall out. I hear people and duck and hide inside the building, I don't want to be seen. I'm better off on my own the orphanage was hell compared to this. MY Clothes are almost shreds and I'm really hungry I'm not sure where to go now I think I am gonna have to look in the trash cans for food, and maybe find something warmer to ware. I have been looking for hours and all I found is a coat that has seen better days no food yet, i cant keep going like this but I'm not sure where to go for food, every so often I'll see people walking but no one takes mind me, I'm a dirty short girl and no one wants to be near and II miss my mommy and daddy we were so happy now I'm just alone my old buddy Sharky. Hello I am Elizabeth Kelly. But everyone just calls me Lizzy I use to be a Meteorologist but I retired when I found out how u can tell how much rain will fall on any given day using some math. I patented it and sold it, to farmers and some rich people so I can relax now in life. I am 6 foot 4 taller then normal women but sadly I do feel like something is missing but I have never been sure of what. I've known it not long cause my last girlfriend just did not seem to understand me and did not like me being in change, it was a change to I really liked her, I guess I just need to find something worth it in my life. I have been thinking lately maybe I need to adopt I really want a child but at the same time I have worry's, I cant show my dominant side to a child I adopt. I will think up something I always do. I look outside and notice how hard the snow is coming down now, they said we were gonna get 3-4 feet but that is no surprise and crap I forgot to take the trash out today I better do it before it gets worse. now where did I put my coat, there it is grab the trash and off we go. I make my way out back to the alley to dump the trash when I notice what looks likes a coat covered in snow. Hmm who would leave a coat next to the trash can guess I should toss it in. I start to pick it up when I notice it's really heavy. "Huh? oh dear god that's a girl. Sweet sweetie can you hear me are you ok? sweetie shit sorry baby your coming inside with me" I grab her small cold body and run inside as fast as I can and head straight to the bathroom, I turn the water to a warm level and make sure it's not too hot. "ok sweetie I am gonna put you in the water and farm you up ok?" I slowly take off her coat, then I lower her into the bathtub, clothes and all hoping none are frozen to her body and hope she wont be missing any toes or fingers. Elizabeth says if a soft voice "come on sweetie stay with me are you warming up can you talk?" Emily slowly starts to regain consciousness and starts to look around scared wondering where she is. She notices how cold she is and she feels something warm around her. " where am i?" she try's to say as her teeth are chattering. Lizzy answered her in a soft voice "sweetie it's ok your in my place you were passed out in the snow, now don't move ok lets warm you up first" I start grabbing towels and some scissors, I am gonna have to cut her out of her clothes to get them off her and hope I can find something she can wear. The only thing I can find after looking for a while is the stuff my ex used, and I am not sure if this sweet thing will be ok with that. Elisabeth says trying to calm the poor wet and cold girl down"ok Sweetie I am gonna cut your clothes off it might hurt a bit cause parts still look frozen on you but bare with it ok?' Emily closes her eyes and nods her head yes. she slowly starts to feel the nice lady taking her clothes off and cutting her pants so she doesn't have to move. Elizabeth says it a calm mother like voice "sweetie my name is Elizabeth but you can call me Lizzy ok? I'm gonna have to take off your bra and panties ok do be scared I'll be as gentle as I can" Lizzy starts to cut the girls bra off and sees her shake a bit so she stops for a second, before she works on her panties making sure the girl understands shes not trying to hurt her. Emily answers Elizabeth quietly" my name is Emily a..and thank you for doing this" all Emily can think about right now is the angel who saved her from the cold outside, and that hopefully will let her stay tell at least the storm passes by. Elizabeth starts to dry Emily off the best she can, she knows the only stuff she has that might fit is what her ex left but at this point she doesn't have a choice she needs to keep this little girl warm, so she can get better. Elizabeth try's to talk to the sleepy Emily as best she can " Emily dear I am gonna get you dressed ok? after that I want you to rest for the night and we will talk more in the morning ok?" she noticed after shes done that Emily is sound asleep not hearing a single word. "ok lets get this little girl into something warm" Elizabeth grabs the tote that has her ex's stuff inside and she opens it and pulls out a fresh pink diaper some baby powder some cream and a sleeper. "I hope these are not too big my ex was really small to" she says out-loud. Elizabeth starts to slide the diaper under the girl making sure to add lots of powder and cream and rubbing it in to the girl and her Sensitive area, knowing that this girl will need to see a doctor soon as possible. she then slowly tapes the diaper as tight as she can hoping it will fit ok, she then starts to lift Emily into the sleeper and zips it up her back making sure she is nice and warm. "I'll lay you down on my bed you sweet little angel and I hope u can get a good nights rest for tomorrow we talk and go to the doctors."

Okay, this is really my first (and thus far, only planned, although I'm Not Saying It's Aliens, but... is rather similar in a way) foray into Diaper Dimension stories, so I'll try to do my best to adhere to the whole thing. Basically, though, I will warn you of this: there is a war in this particular part of the Dimension, and neither country involved has their hands clean. That's the moral of this story: war sucks, every country has their dirty laundry, and nobody's innocent. The focus on Littles is also pretty far away; I'm focusing more on one particular Little and her perspective on the whole thing, and while Littles will appear, I'm not planning on them being the focal parts of the story for story reasons. If any other characters are really focused on perspective-wise (possibly; I have an idea how the story ends, but everything else is a work in progress, and I apologize; bipolar disorder makes it hard to focus on...well, anything, and I wanted to get something done to help with the depression.), it'll likely be the Amazons and Middles who are a part of that war. I will mention that I am not a member of the armed forces and not a marine, so while I'm trying to research the absolute shit out of this, I cannot promise to be perfect. If there is a marine here who wants to correct me, feel absolutely free, and I will apply those corrections to this story whenever possible. Likewise, I cannot give a specific schedule of when Semper Fi gets updated; I have a very busy four weeks ahead, and my mental health is likewise unclear, and that's why I'm updating this at the moment and trying - key word is trying - to get my other stories done, I promise. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. But if you're not scared away by the numerous content warnings I've posted, read on: - Chapter One: Where is my Brother? - Corporal Clover Hope was so desperate to find her missing older brother that she had gone AWOL from the United States Marine Corps, all the way from Camp Lejeune to the last location he had been sighted: Nevada’s Death Valley. First Lieutenant (Marine Corps like her, semper fi!) Graywind Hope, tall and well-built at 6’4”, with his short black hair, his warm gray eyes the color of smoke on the breeze, his tawny skin denoting him (and her) as a member of the Navajo, his normal stoicism belied by the fact that he gave her all of the soft smiles he wouldn’t give anyone else, laughing at all of her bad jokes, and giving her all of the biggest hugs a big brother could ever give a little sister. He had gone missing a month ago, and whenever she brought it up with her superiors in the Marine Corps, they told her that they didn’t have answers, that she’d have to bring it up with the chain of command, who delayed her constantly, without remorse or empathy, every time she tried to go through normal channels. Clover was fucking sick of the chain of command, fucking sick of every noncommittal answer on normal channels. She wanted to see his smile again, hear his voice again, and nothing was worth more than that. She wanted her brother - her only family member with both of their parents dead - back, screw the military, and screw what everyone else thought. She was positioned just outside of the latest sighting, getting as much information as she could from the Nevada natives outside of Death Valley, close to another base that was very much like Area 51, but even more secretive in what they did. The United States military had been testing various things above her paygrade; that she knew, as she took a sip of water from one of her three twenty-four-ounce aluminum flasks she had brought along for the ride. Clover had ditched her uniform a while back, going for a cowboy hat, a tank top, leather gloves, a pair of jeans, and muddy combat boots to go along with her huge backpack, all crudely painted black with a stolen paint can now in the vehicle she stole - being conscious of the environment was the reason she didn’t use spray cans - and stolen from different places; she wanted to spare what little cash she had for necessary things like food, water, and gas for her car. Said backpack was stuffed with her other two water flasks, a case containing her Nintendo Switch OLED model with various games, charger, and a Power Bank for portable charging (to prevent her getting bored), a tactical flashlight (she had left her iPhone at the base so as to avoid being tracked, so she had stolen the flashlight), binoculars (military grade and yes, it was stolen), a bunch of canned and preserved food from a gas station (expensive and not particularly edible, but better than MREs, and she’d make do), a jacket and a beanie for the cold desert night (also stolen), a first aid kit (stolen again), and a military grade sleeping bag (to nobody’s surprise, stolen). Her M18 Modular Handgun System - a pistol based on the SIG Sauer used by the Marines - was holstered on her thigh with two extra magazines on her belt, along with a standard KA-BAR knife stored in a custom made (thanks to Graywind for her most recent birthday, her twenty-second two months ago) waterproof vegetable-tanned cowhide leather sheath, as she peered through the binoculars, her gray eyes cautious. The building had snipers posted on top, and she’d never be able get close to the place unless, maybe, when it turned to night - a massive problem since she was wanted by the Marines, local and federal police, and probably the fucking FBI and CIA at the rate she was going. Clover had dug herself a small hole into the rocky hill using her KA-BAR knife. It had been exhausting work, taking the whole of the day and sweat poured down her tawny skin and black ponytail, but she kept at it, even when bits of sand filled the hole, thinking of nothing more than her brother, safe, back with her, ready to face whatever consequences so she could see him again. When she finished, it was dinnertime: canned hash (basically salty beef and potatoes), canned corn, and canned black beans with a snack of trail mix and a quickly-browning banana. It was what she had been living on in the past three days that she had been AWOL, and she hated it…but it was still better than the military’s Meals Rejected by Everyone. She shuddered, remembering the first time she had tried the chili and macaroni MRE; she had nearly vomited the whole thing up, and it gave her severe constipation, taking for-fucking-ever to shit it out of her system. Good news is that prison food might be a bit better, Clover thought pessimistically as she chewed on the canned hash, drinking a bit more water to go along with it. Then a deep male voice, close, far too close, shouted, “Don’t fucking move!”, and she saw a bunch of red dots line up on her body, with three very tall, fully armored men pointing M27s at her. Bitter tears escaped her eyes. She was close, so fucking CLOSE to finding Graywind, and she had been denied it. “Who are you?” the speaker, a huge man in body armor that had to be at least 6’9”, demanded in a Southern drawl. “Specify the reason why you’re here!” She answered, like she had been drilled into countless times at boot camp, “Sir, Corporal Clover Hope, USMC, Service Number 8839754669, sir!” The speaker paused. “Where did you go to boot camp? What is your MOS? Where were you stationed? And what are the parts of the EGA, and what do they mean?” “Sir, MCRD San Diego, MOS is 0311, stationed at Camp Lejeune, and the parts of the EGA are Eagle, stands for United States, Globe, stands for global service, and Anchor, stands for our naval traditions, sir!” Clover saw the man smirk, could almost see the amusement in his eyes behind his sunglasses. “You expecting a Big Chicken Dinner for going AWOL?” he drawled. “To find my fucking brother, asshole!” she snapped. The man paused for a few moments. “...Semper fi,” he said. “Oorah,” she answered quietly. “Yeah, he was here,” he said, holding his hand up to signal his men to stand down. “Far above your paygrade.” “I don’t give a single shit, or I wouldn’t be here,” Clover growled. “Sir, we don’t have time for this,” the second marine said. “Just put her in the damned brig and be done with it.” “I wonder, though…” the big marine murmured, his finger scratching his blond beard. “Corporal, how much do you know of dimensional travel?” “Sir?” she asked, suddenly confused. “You’re talking aliens?” “Of a sort, yeah.” She got the feeling he wasn’t being entirely honest. “You’re about the right size for…yeah…if it were a Middle, it would be a different story, but you’re about 5’1”, should be enough for…” “Sir, what the fuck are you talking about?” Clover interrupted, completely confused about the reference to her height. Her boob size wasn’t much to brag about either, probably AA cup, maybe A at the absolute most, but she almost preferred it: the less staring and catcalls from the men, the better. “Take these.” The big marine handed her an earpiece (which, while she was confused about it, didn’t hesitate to put it in her left ear) and an odd gray device, circular in circumference and the size of her palm. “You’re going to want to get rid of your weapons - every weapon - and grab your backpack before you click the bottom button.” “I’m not relieving my weapons,” Clover said stubbornly, as she palmed the device. “Your funeral,” the big marine said with a shrug. “You come in with weapons, and the Amazons won’t be very fucking happy, but you asked for it; we’ve got plenty more where you come from.” She looked at the big marine like he was crazy. “Amazons? The fuck kind of aliens are those? Do they do deliveries and shit, too?” “Remind me to laugh at your shitty jokes if you ever get back,” the second marine growled, and she could almost hear his eyeroll. “Sir, you’re not seriously-” the third marine began before the big marine cut him off, saying, “Every Middle classification, including her brother, has disappeared without a trace, has immediately been cut off from radio contact. We’re not part of their world, so we can’t be Amazons. There’s only one classification left we haven’t tried, and we haven’t tried a woman yet.” “Littles!” the second marine spat. “She’d be useless to them!” “And she doesn’t know shit about this! Why not try someone else on base; hell, anyone else?!” the third marine snapped. “She has a personal stake in this. Motivation enough to risk a prison sentence.” The big marine sighed as Clover quickly devoured her meal, not even bothering to clear off the remnants of food from her face before she packed up her sleeping bag in her backpack. “Sometimes, that’s what the greatest of us lack: motivation and a reason worth fighting for.” Clover hefted her backpack over her shoulders and clicked the button on the bottom of the gray device, which lit up bright silver in the desert, whirling in her palm, burning as miniature tendrils attached themselves to her hand. She felt every fiber of her body react, her blood, sinew, and bones almost boiling like a bad morphine overdose. She wanted to scream, but it quickly died in her throat. The device emitted an ear-piercing shriek, and she may have as well before everything went black. - Hope y'all enjoyed~

This is a new story entirely based on fantasies that I have written with 22 chapters. Translated from another language. Here are the first two chapters. African experience By Sandman Chapter 1 - Africa Rob stretched out his legs on the couch and enjoyed an extra cup of coffee. The apartment that he rented was really something very special. Not least the large roof terrace where he sat and enjoyed his new life. The tranquility, the pleasant tropical heat, the view of the leafy pool area. Everything felt good. That he hadn't done this before! Rob almost got angry with himself when he thought about it. Financially, it wasn't a big deal, and he could do his job just as well here, if not better. It was still a bit nerve-wracking to have moved to a completely different part of the globe, but it had been a much-needed change of scenery. Now he was in place. Far, far from home in a continent where he didn't know a single person. Rob had landed yesterday, Wednesday. The journey had been stressful with unnecessarily long waits at three different airports. Passport control at the arrival had not impressed and the same with the baggage handling, but in the end, he had at least sat in the taxi with all his luggage. But it had been a struggle. For a long time, Rob had thought that his luggage was delayed or even completely lost. A small "bonus" to an employee at baggage handling had solved the problem. The first thing Rob had done when he arrived at Palm Court was to throw his bags into the apartment and buy a cold beer at the pool bar. After just a sip or two, Rob felt that the travel fatigue was starting to subside. The area felt calm and nice, and he had enjoyed watching the two African women sitting on the table next to him, drinking a cup of coffee. The move to Africa had come at a good time. His best friend and training partner Dan had also moved. Quite far away as well, which meant that they wouldn't be able to see each other very often. When Rob had been given peace that Dan was going to move, he too had started to play with the idea of replacing the safe everyday environment with something new. Something exotic. Pretty soon plan A had become Africa. A gigantic continent that Rob had only read about. Now he was there, and his apartment would be the central point of his new life. The interior designer had done a good job. The apartment was fully equipped and even the fridge and pantry were stocked with the basic items that he had specified. He was already starting to feel at home. Palm Court was a large condominium. A gated community. It was an oasis in the middle of the city with walking distance to incomparable beaches, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, you name it. Rob was in paradise. The only thing he really lacked right now was love, a girlfriend. He didn't need any other company. In that respect, he was very different from his best friend Dan, who could barely stand himself for an entire evening. Rob, on the other hand, needed to be completely by himself quite often. That was when he sat and wrote his books, but he also liked to roam around all on his own. Aimlessly and anonymously. Especially when he was in a city. However, Rob was not a lone wolf, and after a period of writing, he often had a pent-up need for socializing. Lately, Rob had started to think a lot about the future and thoughts about starting a family, but so far, he was not ready for family life with a house and dog. Being single still had some unbeatable advantages, which Rob made sure to take advantage of. He appreciated being free as a bird and being able to enjoy casual sexual acquaintances, but he didn't want it that way in the long run. Rob's plan was to take it easy for the first few weeks. Acclimatize and get to know the surroundings. He had also decided to put work aside completely for a while and treat himself to a soft start. The goal was to find a balance in life where a central part of everyday life would be about physical exercise. The training served as lighter fluid for Rob. It was during the training sessions that the ideas rushed forward and gave him a boost in his writing. A well-functioning home was also important. The less he had to think about simple everyday problems, the more focus he could put on his book projects. He had come a long way with the apartment, but he needed to hire someone who could clean and do the laundry. Apparently, it was a popular second work because Rob had barely landed before he ran into the cute girl at the pool bar who immediately offered her services. They had agreed to meet today, Thursday and she seemed perfect for the job. Above all, because she worked in the area and was already safety audited and approved. Rob had just finished a quiet and nice breakfast when there was a knock on the door. The bartender girl stood there with a smile on her face. ” Hello Mister! Do you remember me?” ” Hello Esther! Of course I remember you. Nice to see you again.” The answer from Rob was not a standard comment that flew out of him just to appear polite. The black woman in front of him, who was both socially gifted and sexy, appealed to him in many ways. She seemed to be somewhere in her 30s and after just a few minutes she had wrapped Rob around her little finger. Rob should of course have asked Esther for references at similar jobs, but you only live once, Rob thought and let his eyes choose. Esther was hired on the spot. A while after Esther had left the apartment, Rob had gone out onto the terrace and looked out over the pool area. He could both see and hear that there were a lot of families with children on Palm Court. These were families who seemed to live a privileged life, quite different from the much poorer families outside the fence. Rob could see that many of the housewives had nannies who played with the children, while their husbands were probably out at some well-paid job. Chapter 2 - Medical examination When Rob eventually went out on his first walk outside the gates of Palm Court, he had unexpectedly received a minor culture shock. Rob had in his wildest fantasy not imagined that there would be so few Westerners living here, but now he understood better. Esther had told Rob that expats in the area very rarely came from outside Africa. The same thing with the tourists. In other words, Rob was an odd bird, but it was one thing to hear someone else say it. Now he experienced it with his own eyes, and it was clearly a bigger adjustment than he had expected. Locally, people would refer to him as "the white man". The pale face. No personal name was needed because he was the one and only. The locals didn't mean anything bad by calling him "the white man". It was just a well-intentioned and apt description of his appearance, but Rob still found it a bit difficult. He wished he had been anonymous and discreet, instead of lighting up the sky like the pole star with his pale complexion, but deep down he felt that he would adapt. He would just have to give it some time. Because even though he stood out, he was met by smiles and the city and life on the street felt both harmonious and pleasant. Certainly, he could see that there were large gaps between rich and poor and that it was best to avoid certain areas, especially at certain times of the day. But it was nothing unique to this city, but a typical metropolitan phenomenon. One of Rob's first reflections on strolling around was that the women looked different from what he was used to. It wasn't the color of the skin that he was thinking about, but the anatomy and their sexy tits and asses. The girls were simply a little curvier here. But just like at home, it was a blissful mix of women with different looks. The difference here seemed to be that they were very proud of their bodies, even though they had a BMI far above ideal. Everywhere he saw upright women who unabashedly and naturally emphasized their feminine attributes. Over the years, Rob had had some hot relationships, but his paths had never crossed with a black woman. It had only happened that way because he had grown up and lived in environments where everyone had been white. Now it was just the opposite and only the future could answer whether this was where he would find the love of his life. The dream of a romance made him feel elated and he walked straight towards the beach. The tropical heat was oppressive, and he tried to walk slowly to avoid getting soaked in sweat. Down by the beach, Rob found what he was looking for. A simple lunch restaurant overlooking the sea. Rob took a deep breath and looked out over the green-turquoise water. Life felt like a luxury holiday. Gone was the gray everyday life, the stress and the scheduled day. Rob enjoyed seeing and hearing how the waves rolled in towards the beach, he enjoyed seeing all the happy people, who, just like Rob, appreciated the relaxed life with sun and sea. Pretty soon, Rob received renewed confirmation that he stood out with his pale skin. Some passing women had taken a detour near Rob's table, where they had discreetly stopped and straightened their bikinis or bent over and seemingly brushed off a grain of sand on a toe. It was women who wanted to show off their beach-clad bodies. Women who wanted Rob to look at them and Rob liked what he saw. He met their eyes with a happy smile. Rob marveled at how quickly humans took a liking to a person of the opposite sex. A quick glance was all that was needed for the blood to flow in the crotch, which then triggered hopes and feelings of pleasure. Rob was reminded that he longed for physical closeness to a woman. Life in Africa had started well and the lunch gave Rob another push forward. He was happy to be able to live this life. Pleased and satisfied after the lunch on the beach, Rob felt ready to make a visit to the gym. He had quickly walked past and looked in from the outside and it looked promising. The well-equipped gym was just a small part of the Micasa Health Club at the Palm Court pool area and membership was included for adult tenants at Palm Court. Rob was keen to continue with the training program that he had been doing regularly for the past few years, but there was only one small detail he had to investigate before he could train. Rob had read that you had to show a medical certificate before you could train. There must be some formality that they don't apply, Rob thought as he opened the front door and stepped into Micasa. ” Hello Mister! Welcome to our Health Club! I’m Faye, the gym instructor. What can I do for you sir!” ” Hello! Thanks! I’m a bit interested in starting to train in the gym.” ” Perfect! Please allow me to demonstrate our facility.” "Yes, please do!" The gym seemed well equipped, and the area was large and fresh. After showing Rob around, Faye asked if he had any questions. "Eh, I read something about medical certificates. Can I just show my certificate from home?" "Oh, no, unfortunately it is not possible. We have a requirement that you must be examined here at the club by our own staff. Should I book an appointment for you?" "Uh, .. Yes, please, that would be nice." "Let me see. We have an appointment free today at 14:30.” "Okay, that’s fine. I'll take it." Damn shit, Rob thought. For some reason, he hated health checks. He was fit as a fiddle but still there was something about being examined that he didn't like. A little frustrated by the bureaucratic rules at the gym, Rob went back to his apartment. Just before the agreed time, Rob walked down to Micasa, dressed in his gym clothes. His hope was to be able to do a proper workout immediately after the examination. "Hi Faye! Now I'm here for the health check. Where should I go?" "Hello! Come with me, I will show you where Fatima is housed." They walked in the opposite direction to the gym and at the end of the corridor was the examination room. "Hello Darling,” said a very beautiful woman. Rob had seen her before both at the bar and in the pool area. "Hello" he replied happily and was a little surprised that he suddenly started to feel very shy. "Are you closing the door on the way-out Faye?" said Fatima. "Yes boss! He is all yours" Faye replied with a smile and left the room. "Okay. Then we will start by filling in some information in the journal. "Fatima took out a tablet and logged in to an app. Then Rob had to answer an insane number of questions between heaven and earth. Every single vaccination was documented, as was basically every patch and cold he had had since he was an infant. It was as if the questions would never end, but suddenly Fatima said. ” Baby, please be so kind and take of your shoes, socks and t-shirt for me.” Okay, now it was apparently time to examine the body for real, Rob thought. He did as she said and wearing only sports shorts and underwear, he was thoroughly examined. She listened to her heart and lungs. Checked his blood pressure. Pricked his finger and took a blood sample. Rob even got to ride an exercise bike with a heart rate monitor around his chest for 10 minutes. Everything seemed to be normal. It was now that Rob thought Fatima was done, that all that remained was to print and sign the certificate. That he would get the green light to train at the gym. But the examination was not over at all, and Rob did not see it coming. Fatima took him completely by surprise by resolutely pulling off both shorts and underwear in one quick movement. What happened next almost made him go underground. The latex glove, the Vaseline, none of that he had paid attention to. No..she can't.... Upff.. Her finger had quickly found Rob's little hole, and she hadn't hesitated for a second. Now he stood there with her finger deep in his ass and was so ashamed that his cheeks had turned bright red. ” Relax baby.” Rob was far from relaxed and felt extremely embarrassed. However, Fatima seemed to enjoy the situation. ” Okey Darling. Does it hurt?” "Uh... no" "You like? " "Eh, well, .. uh.. I was not prepared for eh.." ” Baby, don’t be shy, just relax and be a nice little boy?” Her free hand cupped around Rob's balls, and it felt a little too nice to avoid erection. Rob's cock was growing and he really had to bite his tongue to try to limit the "consequences". ” Look at that!” said Fatima and caressed Robs semi-stiff manhood. “Someone’s babymaker is waking up!” Fully aware of what was happening, Fatima now began to slowly move her finger inside his ass. She quickly found a point that elicited insanely nice tickles and Rob found it difficult to stand still. ” Do you have a girlfriend, Darling?” "Eh, no" ” Why? Don’t you like ladies?” "Eh, yes I love women, absolutely. I'm 100 percent heterosexual but right now I don't have a relationship. Uh, oaaa.." Fatima caressed his balls and almost weighed it in her hand. Damn it. Now Rob could no longer control himself and his torpedo blossomed to its full length. ” Yes darling. That’s my baby! When was the last time you had pussy darling?” "Eh , but,, .. It was... okey, unfortunately quite a long time ago." ” Well, ... but when was the last time you used your right hand?” "But eh it..... If you absolutely have to know, I'm actually left-handed and did it a couple of days ago." ” Oh, you naughty little boy!! Well darling. Just so you know, it takes a couple of weeks to have your medical certificate ready. I hope that’s okey for you but ... you should know that there are ways to speed up the process.” She caressed Rob's cock as she said it. Rob couldn't help it, but his cock now stood like an iron skewer. "Uh...? What does that mean?" ” Well darling. You just need to be my little baby boy for a while. Me being your new master putting on a diaper on your white little ass......” Fuck! Rob hardly knew where to go. ” Relax darling, I’m just kidding but make sure you meet me at Ocean view restaurant at six o’clock tomorrow night.” Fatima did not expect an answer and ended the investigation of his now not so private areas. Slightly shocked, Rob put on his clothes while Fatima wrote something in her journal. ” See you later my little baby boy!” ”Eh... Yes Mom!” Damn it, Rob immediately regretted answering like that. It just flew out of him. Fatima raised her eyebrows and looked at him a little superiorly. ” Don’t be late darling, otherwise I will force you to bend over on my lap and spank your white little ass.” ” Okey, I get it!” On the way back to the apartment, Rob realized that his heart was pounding and was so excited that he was in a cold sweat. Fatima had made him feel inferior and the strange thing was that he couldn't decide if he liked it or not.

Well, here's a new story that shows the brutality of aliens if they ever met mankind. Here, we have I'm Not Saying It's Aliens, but..., a regression fic in a different way than I normally do things. The content is also quite different, and very mature. Firstly, this is set in an alternate Cold War era. There will be critiques about the respective governments of the United States and the Soviet Union, but they will be in passing, as this is not like Yet Another World War. This is a concept about alien abductions and how horrifying it could be to the abductees to be captured by creatures with more power than humanity will ever have. The aliens in question are quite sadistic, almost akin to Diaper Dimension, but not exactly, but they abduct and shrink humans down to the size of children to make them more "compliant". Humans are implied to be used as breeders for what amounts to puppy mills, lab rats for corporations testing new drugs and the like, and as often mistreated "pets". This includes teenagers being implied to be breeders, so please be aware of that before you delve in, and I promise to warn you when it happens. Humans are sold like Black slaves in the 1800s for the aliens, and there are lobotomy procedures, teeth-pulling, nerve-disabling, and genetic alterations, one in particular which happens to both of the main characters. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. So, if the concepts in this story affect you in any way, please take heed of the warnings and don't read. The last thing I want to do is traumatize readers. But I promise, no matter how bad it gets, like with all of my stories on this site, there is a happy ending, even if it's not expected. So, if you're still with me, read on: - Chapter One: Abduction - Warrant Officer Felicia Paniagua smirked as she confidently stepped near the entrance of the space shuttle, her astronaut suit on. Of course, the necessary diaper (it was called a “Maximum Absorbency Garment”, but in reality, it was only a very absorbent diaper) was…annoying, and she wasn’t used to it, but she’d live with it for the opportunity to go into space. If her mom could see her now… She let out a sigh, brushing a loose strand of her long dark brown bangs, expertly done in a ponytail in the back, away from her oak-brown eyes. Now wasn’t the time to think about her family, her mother, her many younger brothers, sisters, and cousins, especially not with…her on board. She sighed again as she saw the other woman walking towards the shuttle in the German space station, dressed similar to her. According to the file she had been given, the other woman was a Praporshchik - a warrant officer, in Soviet Union military terms, the same rank she was - by the name of Lagle Ehasalu, born in Tallinn, the Estonia part of the Soviet Union. Lagle had not spoken a word since they had met, her worried sky-blue eyes appraising Felicia nervously as if she wanted to see what her thoughts on her were. Her blonde hair was smartly tied in a bun, and she was surprisingly tall; if Felicia had to judge her height, she was about 5’10”, and the Hispanic woman had to crane her neck to look up with her own 5’2” height. At least we both have the same boob size; double C-cup, by the looks of it. Felicia offered a handshake to Lagle, who took it with a bit of surprise on her face. “Well, I figure since we’re going to be crewmates for this mission, we should get to know each other,” Felicia said. “Pleased to meet you, Lagle.” Lagle merely shook her head and spoke in a foreign language (Felicia didn’t know which one.), before shyly going into the shuttle. “Doesn’t speak English. Lovely.” Felicia sighed for a third time, wondering what this was all about. The higher-ups had been very vague and had stated that she wasn’t to tell anyone about this mission, that she had been selected out of a very large pool of candidates to “foster goodwill between hostile nations”, hence why they were doing this in a neutral site in Germany rather than the United States or the Soviet Union. Other than that? Nothing. But how could they “foster goodwill” if neither of them spoke the other’s language? All Felicia knew was English, Spanish, and a bit of German. This woman, Lagle, definitely didn’t speak English, and she was probably a shy wallflower, judging by her actions. They were totally different. How could anyone expect proper chemistry? Only thing we have in common is that we’re both young women pilots. At least there won’t be any fucking sexism here. Now that was annoying. The talking down to, the snooty comments and sexual harassment, the slurs and bigotry, she had heard it all and still graduated top of her class in 1977. Now it was three years later, and all of that still hadn’t faded, unless it was the people who knew her (only a few). I wonder if Lagle experienced the same. The Soviets did use women as fighters in World War 2 after all. Felicia stepped into the shuttle, not having to duck her head like Lagle did, as the door closed. It was a smaller shuttle, cheaper than the earlier Saturn rockets, and such a thing made her nervous. As a pilot, she could at least control her plane; with a space shuttle, so many things could and did go wrong. She was nervous about the whole thing, when she saw Lagle talking in her foreign language to her superiors at their home base, obviously as scared as Felicia was. “Warrant Officer Paniagua, this is Houston, are you green?” Felicia sighed, checking all of the gauges. She had prepared a little bit for it, and she was smart enough to know how this worked. Thus far, everything looked good. Fuel and engines? Check. Thermal protection system? Sound. Altitude and navigation? Solid. Landing gear? Yep, that was good, too. She tapped into the radio beacon and said confidently, “Green as spring grass across the board, Houston.” “We’re clear for takeoff,” Houston said, while the Soviets instructed Lagle in their own language. “Just relax, Warrant Officer Paniagua. It won’t take long.” Then an ominous gas entered the shuttle. It was hot pink, suffocating, and enveloped Felicia quicker than she could snap her helmet shut, and she saw Lagle panicking, trying to snap her own helmet shut. “Sorry, Warrant Officers,” Houston’s voice said regretfully. “You were chosen for this-” Chosen? It was the last thing she thought of before everything went black… Then she could hear two crackling voices in the blackness after a prick on her neck, although it felt like a fog was in her head, making it fuzzy, impossible to think, impossible to decipher the exact intent of the speakers. “Yelpka, we’ve got the package. Two young females of the lesser species.” “Young females, haha! Yorsha, how much do you think they’ll sell on the Lottery? About one-hundred thousand krysts?” “One-hundred thousand? Try one-hundred million krysts, Yelpka. They’re young, female for potential breeding, and they don’t have the behavior issues the other lesser breeds do.” “Ah, those types. Yorsha, they’re still lesser breeds. You just replace them if they’re broken; there’s plenty on this backwards planet.” “Yelpka, these are the ones we chose for the Lottery. These ones, we’ve made sure have no defects.” “Why don’t we just take more, Yorsha? This world’s filled with them.” “Yelpka, we made articles with this world, like we have with others. We are the dominants, they are the lesser, but our higher-ups have made deals for millennia with other worlds.” A third voice. “You two, are you done with the lesser species extraction for the Lottery?” “Yes, Commandant! Shrinking process will begin on your mark.” “...Mark!” Felicia felt an excruciating pain, like getting wisdom teeth pulled out with pliers without anesthesia, mixed with a spinal destruction, like she was being completely crushed into a much smaller shape, but no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t scream, such was the fog around her head. She felt her bladder and bowels empty into her Maximum Absorbency Garment. “Disgusting creatures. The smell…” “If it bothers you so much, Yelpka, put on your mask. We need to clean them.” “Why should we? Disgusting things can do it themselves…” “They are under sedation for the transportation to our home world. And…” A cruel chuckle. “It’s not like they’ll be able to do it after the Lottery winners are through with them.” “Heh. I hope they pull all of their teeth out. It’s always fun to hear these filthy creatures screaming in pain.” “Yelpka, nobody needs to hear that. Yorsha, clean them. Yelpka’s obviously useless aside from the shrinking process.” “Understood, Commandant.” Felicia felt her suit being taken off, along with her bra and undergarment, felt a pair of furry hands roughly clean her before another Maximum Absorbency Garment was put on her. She wanted to struggle, wanted to open her eyes, but everything was a blur as she was shoved on a cold metal surface, still unable to move or make a sound, no matter how much she tried. “Done with both. Can I go back to the bow? I want to see the home world.” “You can. Set a course for our home world. We’re done for now.” “What about getting other specimens?” “Yelpka, you cavlet, if we obtained other specimens, that means less room for these. Warp travel is always dangerous to specimens, and we want to make sure these survive. The Lottery demands it.” “...Understood, Commandant.” “Warp on my mark. …Mark!” Then lights painfully exploded in Felicia’s head, and she knew no more. - Hope y'all enjoyed~

Welcome to Mommy Anna's Diapered Storybook! Some of you may know me from my website, diaperhypnosis.com My recent experience of having my store on Etsy closed because of their discrimination against our community (they are closing down all ABDL hypnosis audio there) has been one more reminder to me of how important it is for us to stay together as a community. I've decided to publish full-length diaper and regression stories, for free, as a special way of giving back to our community. I'm also recording these stories and posting them (full-length) on my YouTube channel, so you can hear me read them there. Mommy Emma from diaperhypnosis.com will also be recording some of these stories for YouTube. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these stories and keep being the wonderful you that you are! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ethan hadn’t planned on going out that night, but the quiet buzz of the bar called to him like a lullaby. It wasn’t loud or crowded—just warm lighting, soft jazz, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air. That’s where he saw her. She was older, confident, with a soothing smile and eyes that seemed to see past his words and into the ache beneath. Her name was Jenn. They talked for hours. She listened more than she spoke, asking questions that made him feel small—but in a safe way, not judged. When she gently took his hand and whispered, “Would you like to come home with me, sweetheart?” he didn’t hesitate. Her apartment was cozy. Dim lighting, plush rugs, and a subtle scent of lavender. They kissed, slowly at first. Her hands caressed him not with hunger, but with ownership. She guided him to the couch, and when her blouse slipped down to reveal her soft, full breasts, he felt himself drawn—not by lust, but by a quiet craving he didn’t understand. He kissed her there, gently. Her nipple brushed his lips. Then, unexpectedly, there was a taste. Warm, sweet, comforting. He pulled back in surprise. “You’re lactating?” She smiled, cupping the back of his head. “Yes, baby. And I think you need it.” He wanted to argue, to deny it, but she pressed him close. The moment he began suckling, something shifted inside him. The world dimmed. Her heartbeat filled his ears. Her milk flooded his senses with a warmth that softened his thoughts. His limbs felt heavier. Time blurred. Confusion danced through his mind. This isn’t right. I’m a grown man. But the milk was too comforting, too full of something he couldn’t name—something that made it hard to think, and even harder to care. Jenn rocked him, humming softly as he nursed, one hand stroking his hair. “That’s it, little one. Drink deep. Let go.” His thoughts unraveled. Words became fuzzy. Memories slipped away like leaves down a stream. He tried to pull back, to protest, but all that came out was a whimper. Jenn pulled him into her lap once more, her voice low and soothing. “You’re doing so well, my sweet little baby.” He blinked up at her, struggling to speak. He wanted to ask what was happening to him, why his legs felt weak, why his arms seemed shorter, pudgier. She kissed his forehead. “Shhh. No more thinking. Babies don’t need to think.” Before he could protest, she lifted him effortlessly. It shouldn’t have been possible—but in her arms, he felt weightless, like a toddler being carried to bed after a long day. He tried to speak again, but only a soft babble escaped. She carried him down the hall, into a room he hadn’t noticed before. When she opened the door, his heart thudded in his chest—because he knew, without a doubt, that it was a nursery. Not just any nursery. A baby girl’s nursery. The walls were painted a soft blush pink, adorned with hand-painted clouds and pastel rainbows. A white wooden crib stood against the far wall, draped with a sheer canopy and stuffed with plush animals. A matching changing table stood nearby, fully stocked with diapers, powders, bottles, and wipes arranged neatly in little woven baskets. A pink diaper pail sat in the corner. The room smelled faintly of baby powder and lavender. There were framed pictures on the wall: whimsical drawings of baby animals in dresses, a pastel alphabet with illustrations, a scripted sign that read “Mommy’s Precious Princess.” “No…” he whispered, or tried to. He kicked feebly, but Jenn just cradled him closer. “Shhh,” she said firmly. “You’re fussy. That’s okay. You’ll learn.” She set him down on the changing table and, with practiced ease, secured a soft, padded strap across his belly. He squirmed, but it was no use. His limbs weren’t strong anymore. He looked down at his chubby hands, now barely larger than a toddler’s, and panic swelled in his chest. Then came the humiliation. She untaped a pink, frilly diaper from a drawer. “First things first, my little girl needs her bottom cleaned and padded. Can’t have you making messes on the floor.” He whimpered, trying to twist away, but she just chuckled. “Still squirmy. Tsk. We’ll work on that.” She gently removed what was left of his grown-up clothes, leaving him naked on the padded table. He flushed crimson, every inch of him burning with shame. Then came the cool wipe across his bottom, the thick layer of lotion, the puff of sweet-scented powder. She took her time, humming as she worked, speaking to him as if he truly were an infant. “And now, baby girl, Mommy just needs to check your temperature to make sure you’re feeling okay…” He let out a pathetic squeak as she reached for a thermometer, coated it in lubricant, and—gently but firmly—slid it into place. His face flushed deeper than he thought possible. He looked away, cheeks burning. “Such a shy baby,” she cooed. “But Mommy knows what’s best.” Once she was satisfied, she pulled the thick, ruffled pink diaper up between his legs and taped it snugly around his waist. It crinkled loudly. The thickness forced his legs apart. She added a pair of lace-trimmed plastic panties over top, then dressed him in a white onesie with pink hearts and the words “Mommy’s Baby Girl” in glittery letters across the chest. He wanted to scream, to demand that this wasn’t right—but the words wouldn’t come. Only a soft whine and a fluttering of his lip. He hated how natural it felt to suckle his thumb when she gently placed it there. Jenn lifted him into her arms and cradled him against her chest again. “There we go. All nice and padded. Mommy’s sweet baby girl.” He cried softly—humiliated, confused, and helpless—as she rocked him and kissed his forehead. The next few days became a blur of babyhood. Sweet, surreal, and all-encompassing. Soft lights, lullabies, and babyish routines. His world shrank. Jenn cared for him tenderly. Every morning, she changed his diaper, cooing softly about how wet her little girl had gotten overnight. She kept him in a rotating wardrobe of dresses, onesies, rompers, and frilly socks—all in pinks, pastels, and florals. She brushed his fine hair and even clipped little bows in it. Diaper changes were frequent and thorough, done on a padded table with soft wipes, powder, and cooing affection. Each time she fastened the tapes on his thick, crinkly diapers, she’d kiss his tummy and murmur, “There we go, my precious baby girl.” She breastfed him several times a day, holding him in her lap and humming lullabies while he nursed. He found himself melting into the comfort, his body relaxing with each rhythmic suckle. It was humiliating, yes—but also strangely comforting, deeply calming. It quieted the storm in his mind and lulled him into a dreamy haze. Meal time meant being strapped into a high chair, where she spoon-fed mushy, pastel-colored baby food, spooned carefully into his mouth as he sat strapped into a pink high chair decorated with cartoon animals. When he got fussy or refused a bite, Jenn would gently scold him. “Uh-uh, little one,” she’d say, tapping his nose with the spoon. “No tantrums at the table.” And once, when he kicked over his bowl in protest, she sighed, picked him up, and carried him over her lap. “You need to learn, baby girl,” she murmured, pulling down his diaper and delivering a firm but loving spanking—just enough to make his bottom sting, just enough to make him cry softly into her shoulder afterward as she cuddled him close. She dressed him in a rotating wardrobe of baby girl outfits—lacey dresses, onesies with puffed sleeves, frilly socks, and pastel bonnets. Every morning was a new ensemble, and every one was chosen with a smile and a kiss on his forehead. “You’re my perfect little princess,” she’d say as she brushed his fine hair and pinned on bows. The playpen became his realm during the day. Surrounded by plush toys and soft blankets, he found himself napping, giggling, and playing with rattles without even realizing how far he’d surrendered. Nights were spent in a crib with high wooden bars, a mobile spinning above him while Jenn tucked him in, her lullabies soothing him into sleep. Then came the public outings. She took him to the park in a large stroller, his dress bouncing with every push, pacifier bobbing in his mouth. People cooed at him, assuming he was just a very adorable baby girl. Jenn would smile proudly and say, “She’s my little angel.” Ethan blushed so deeply he thought he might melt. He blushed furiously, unable to do anything but kick his legs and hide his face. At a boutique baby store, Jenn proudly showed off her “daughter” to the staff, letting them fawn over him. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole when they picked out new bonnets and booties “just perfect for such a precious little princess.” At the grocery store, she placed him in the shopping cart’s seat, his legs dangling helplessly in thick diapers under a ruffled dress. She pushed him through the baby aisle, selecting more supplies while chatting to him like any loving mommy would. The most surreal moment came when Jenn’s friends first visited. Three women arrived, all of them older women with amused, indulgent smiles. They complimented Jenn on her “parenting” and took turns bouncing him on their knees, patting his thickly diapered bottom, and pinching his cheeks. Cooing and fussing over “the baby.” They took turns holding him, feeding him, changing him. Even commenting on how cute he looked in his pink footed pajamas. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a real sweetheart,” one said, bouncing him on her knee. “She needed this,” Jenn replied warmly. “She’s much happier this way.” And Ethan, no, baby Ellie, as Jenn now called him, could only gurgle and nuzzle into her shoulder, too deep in his new world to do anything else. He hated how small he felt—but even more, how safe. Somewhere deep down, part of him had stopped fighting. Each night ended in her arms, suckling at her breast until sleep claimed him, safe and warm and very, very small. The days melted together like cotton candy on the tongue—sweet, sticky, and impossible to separate. Morning light always came gently in Jenn’s home. Soft curtains let the sun filter through in a golden haze, warming the nursery that now belonged to baby Ellie. She’d wake up in her crib to the sound of gentle humming, a melody that seemed to float through the house and wrap around her like a blanket. By the time she opened her eyes, Mommy Jenn was already there, reaching in with open arms. “There’s my sleepy girl,” she cooed, lifting Ellie from the crib with practiced ease. “Did baby have sweet dreams?” Ellie’s diaper was always the first concern—damp and warm after the night, sagging slightly between her thighs. Jenn would carry her to the changing table, humming softly while she stripped off Ellie’s footed pajamas and unfastened the tapes of her diaper with that same knowing smile. “Mmm, someone made a soggy little mess, didn’t she? Such a helpless baby girl,” she whispered lovingly as she cleaned Ellie with warm wipes, powdered her carefully, and taped her into a fresh, puffy pink diaper. “All clean and crinkly again. Just how Mommy likes her.” After a fresh change, the real magic began—dressing up. The wardrobe Jenn had prepared seemed endless. Lacy rompers, pastel dresses with ruffled sleeves, oversized bows, heart-patterned tights, soft mary janes. Each outfit was chosen to make Ellie look and feel every inch the dainty baby girl she now was. And Jenn dressed her with the care of a seamstress and the affection of a mother. Breakfast followed in the high chair. Today’s menu: banana oatmeal with a splash of breastmilk, spoon-fed lovingly one bite at a time. “Open wide for Mommy,” Jenn would sing, guiding the spoon toward Ellie’s lips. When Ellie pouted or squirmed, Jenn gently patted her thigh and gave her a firm look. “Babies don’t fuss at breakfast, little one. Do you need Mommy to remind you how we behave?” It only took one sharp smack on her thigh to remind Ellie what happened when she acted out. Jenn didn’t need to raise her voice. A light spanking—five or six firm swats over her diaper—or a stern time-out in the playpen was always enough to bring her back to submission, her head resting on Jenn’s shoulder as she sobbed softly into the fabric of her dress. Despite the occasional discipline, Ellie had never felt more cherished. Breastfeeding sessions were becoming more frequent now. Jenn insisted they were essential for bonding—and Ellie had stopped resisting. She would curl up against her Mommy’s breast, mouth latching instinctively, suckling while Jenn stroked her hair and whispered lullabies or dreamy affirmations. “You’re my baby girl. You belong right here,” she whispered. “You don’t need to worry about anything. Mommy knows what’s best.” And the more Ellie nursed, the more she believed it. Outings became part of their routine. One day, Jenn dressed Ellie in a pink and white sailor dress with puffed sleeves and a matching bonnet. Her diaper bulged beneath white tights, and her shoes made the faintest tap-tap sound as she was carried to the stroller. They walked to the park, where Jenn laid out a pastel picnic blanket and fed Ellie mashed pears from a jar while other mothers watched from afar, smiling at the adorable “baby girl.” Some even came over to chat. “She’s just precious,” one woman said, peeking into the stroller. “What’s her name?” “Ellie,” Jenn beamed proudly. “She’s my special girl.” Another woman leaned closer. “She looks so peaceful. You must be a wonderful mommy.” Jenn chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from Ellie’s forehead. “She needs a firm hand now and then, but yes... being her mommy is the best thing I’ve ever done.” After the park, they stopped by a boutique baby store. Ellie was carried in, resting on Jenn’s hip with her diaper crinkling audibly with every bounce. The shop assistant cooed immediately. “Oh, what a darling little angel! Looking for something special today?” “Yes,” Jenn smiled. “Some new dresses and a pacifier clip for my little one here. She likes to toss hers when she’s fussy.” Ellie blushed, burying her face in Jenn’s shoulder. By the time they got home, Ellie was exhausted. Jenn bathed her in a warm bubble bath, gently washing her hair and skin, talking to her the entire time. “Babies need their rest,” she said, wrapping her in a hooded towel covered in bunnies. “Especially fussy girls who need Mommy to keep them in line.” That night, after one final change into a nighttime diaper and footie pajamas with clouds and hearts, Jenn rocked her baby girl in a plush glider, whispering softly: “Mommy’s so proud of you. You’re doing so well, my precious Ellie. You don’t have to be anything else anymore. Just be my baby. My sweet, obedient, diapered little girl.” And Ellie, nestled in her arms with a pacifier in her mouth and a full tummy, drifted off—no longer fighting, no longer questioning. By the end of the first week, something had changed in him. The humiliation hadn’t lessened. He still blushed every time she called him her “pretty princess” or praised him for making “big girl wettings” in his diaper. But the resistance inside him had softened. What once felt like punishment now felt like care. Structure. Safety. She always knew what he needed before he did. When he got fussy, she held him. When he whined, she hushed him with a warm bottle or the gentle tug of her nipple. And in those quiet moments in the nursery bathed in afternoon sunlight, while resting in her arms, dressed in soft flannel footie pajamas, he began to feel something strange and frightening: peace. One night, after she’d bathed him, powdered him, and dressed him in a frilly nightgown, she sat in the nursery rocker, cradling him against her chest. He stared up at her with wide, glassy eyes. “Wuv you, Mommy,” he mumbled before he could stop himself. Her smile was radiant. She kissed his forehead, stroked his hair. “Oh, my sweet baby girl… Mommy loves you, too.” He suckled her in silence, tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t know why he cried—only that he needed her, in a way deeper than he’d ever needed anyone. By the end of the second week, Ellie no longer remembered what it felt like to wear grown-up clothes, or even think grown-up thoughts. Each morning began the same: soft lullabies, a soggy diaper, and Mommy’s loving arms lifting her into a new day. And yet, every morning felt more special than the last, as though Jenn was carefully painting Ellie’s new life stroke by gentle stroke. They had fallen into a rhythm, a beautiful little world of their own. Mommy began introducing daily rituals to help Ellie stay “in the right little headspace.” After breakfast and a morning change, they had “mirror time.” Jenn would sit Ellie down on a plush pink rug in front of a tall mirror. She’d prop her up, brush her hair slowly, and talk to her in a sweet, soothing tone. “Look at that baby girl,” she’d whisper, gently guiding Ellie to look into her own reflection. “See those rosy cheeks? That pouty little mouth? That thick, puffy diaper between your legs? That’s who you are now, sweetie.” Ellie blushed every time—but she didn’t look away. Jenn would tie her hair into pigtails or soft curls with pastel bows and praise her for being such a pretty girl. Then came crib time journaling, a strange but soothing activity. Jenn would hand Ellie a soft, padded baby book and a chunky crayon. Though Ellie’s coordination had regressed—her handwriting more like scribbles than letters—Jenn insisted it was important. “Just draw what you feel, baby,” she said, tucking Ellie into the crib with her plush bear. “Show Mommy what’s in that sweet little mind.” Most pages ended up with hearts, clouds, or crude stick figures of Jenn holding Ellie’s hand. But Jenn cherished every one, taping them to the nursery walls like masterpieces. The next visit from Jenn’s friends felt less like an introduction and more like a family reunion. Ellie was no longer shy. They arrived in a flurry of perfume, giggles, and rustling shopping bags. “My goodness, look at her now!” cooed Vanessa, the tall brunette who’d changed Ellie’s diaper during the last visit. “She’s really blossomed.” “She’s fully baby now,” Jenn smiled proudly, bouncing Ellie on her lap. “Barely fusses when she wets, loves being spoon-fed, and she’s completely pacified by nursing.” “She’s lucky,” another friend, Ivy, said with a mischievous grin. “Not all littles surrender that easily.” “Oh, she had her moments,” Jenn chuckled, pinching Ellie’s cheek. “But Mommy knows how to handle them, don’t you, sweetheart?” Ellie blushed and nodded, mouth full of mashed peaches. That afternoon, the women took turns caring for her. Ivy changed her diaper while humming a lullaby. Vanessa fed her from a bottle while cradling her in a rocking chair. And when Ellie began to get overstimulated, whimpering and kicking, Jenn pulled her aside for a firm correction. She sat on the nursery glider, pulled Ellie over her lap, and unfastened her diaper. “I think someone’s forgetting who’s in charge,” she murmured, giving her baby girl a quick, warm spanking, just enough to bring the tears. Then, with the same tenderness, she cuddled Ellie to her chest, patting her diapered bottom softly while her friends watched approvingly. Jenn began taking Ellie on more frequent public outings—little excursions designed to build trust and reinforce babyish behavior. The grocery store became a favorite. Ellie was always strapped into the cart’s baby seat, pink frilly dress billowing out, thick diaper peeking under the hem. Jenn would narrate everything to her, treating her like any doting mother would. “Should we get the applesauce with cinnamon, sweetheart?” she’d ask, holding up two jars. “Or the one with pears?” Ellie’s only answer was a gurgle and a giggle behind her pacifier. At the park, Jenn laid a fluffy pink blanket in the grass and let Ellie sit and play with a rattle while she chatted with other moms. More than once, other women commented on how “natural” Jenn looked with her little one. One even asked if she’d consider babysitting. “Oh, I’m not a babysitter,” Jenn said with a secret smile. “She’s mine. Forever.” At night, things grew more intimate. Jenn introduced lullaby nursing, where she would hold Ellie skin-to-skin and feed her while rocking slowly in the nursery’s glider. A pacifier was clipped to Ellie’s romper for after-feeding comfort, and soft classical music played while stars rotated lazily on the ceiling. “You’re not just pretending anymore,” Jenn whispered one night, her hand stroking Ellie’s cheek. “You are my baby girl. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be anything else, do you?” Ellie’s eyes fluttered. She couldn’t speak—not in words. But her thumb found her mouth, and she suckled sleepily as Jenn laid her in the crib and kissed her goodnight. That night, she dreamed of only one thing: her Mommy, rocking her forever, in a nursery that never faded. But the peace didn’t last. Something old stirred inside him. One morning, while Jenn was folding laundry in the other room, he stood up in the playpen—wobbling on unsteady, diaper-thickened legs—and looked at the door. The old voice in his mind whispered: You’re not a baby. You’re not her doll. This isn’t who you are. Driven by a desperate need to reclaim some piece of his manhood, he shuffled to the door, managed to open it, and made it halfway down the hallway before she found him. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Her voice was sharp—not angry, but full of authority. He froze. “Wanna go,” he stammered, but it came out lispy and high-pitched, like a toddler’s whine. “Not Baby.” She walked calmly toward him, knelt down, and looked him straight in the eyes. “No,” she said gently, “you’re my baby. And Mommy’s baby doesn’t run away.” Before he could speak again, she took his hand and led him back to the nursery. He whimpered and tried to pull away—but she was calm, practiced. Once inside, she sat on the rocking chair and pulled him across her lap. “Mommy didn’t want to have to do this,” she said softly, lifting the back of his ruffled diaper, “but little girls who run away get consequences.” The spanking was firm but controlled—each swat echoing in the nursery, sending hot shame surging through him. He cried, not just from the sting, but from the crushing humiliation of it all. When she finished, she kissed his tear-streaked face, held him tight, and whispered, “Shh. It’s okay now. You’re still my baby. You just forgot for a moment.” And in her arms, sniffling into her nightgown, he realized: she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t cruel. She had corrected him. Something in him cracked. From that day forward, the resistance never came back. In fact, he began to lean into the role—slowly at first, then with growing hunger. He fussed until she picked him up. He tugged at her blouse when he was hungry. He giggled when she praised him for filling his diaper like a “good girl.” He even began babbling in baby talk, making her coo and kiss his cheeks with pride. Each new outfit she dressed him in—whether it was a pastel romper, a bonnet and mittens, or a dress with layers of lace and puffed sleeves—brought a twinge of embarrassment… but also a thrill. A warm, helpless flutter in his belly. And when she took him out again—this time to a Mommy & Me playgroup at the park, surrounded by other women and their infants—he didn’t resist being shown off. He clung to her, pacifier bobbing, resting his head against her chest while the other Mommies cooed and whispered. “He’s such a precious little girl,” one said. “She really is perfect,” another smiled. “How long have you had her?” “Oh, just about a week,” Jenn said. “But I think she’s going to be mine forever.” His heart swelled. In her arms, he was forever. Time lost its edges. He stopped thinking in days. Instead, his world became measured by diaper changes, naps, feedings, and the ebb and flow of Mommy’s presence. Sometimes there was sun through the nursery curtains, sometimes the soft hum of lullabies, sometimes the crinkle of his diaper as he crawled from one plush toy to another. But thinking? That became harder. Words slipped away. At first, he could still remember them—his name, maybe, or how to form a sentence. But they floated in and out like dreams upon waking. He’d try to speak, and only babble would come. “Ba-ba. muh. waah.” He flushed with shame at first, but Jenn only smiled warmly, kissed his forehead, and cooed, “That’s okay, baby girl. You don’t need big words anymore. Just let Mommy do the thinking.” And he did. He used to stand—wobble a bit, hold onto the edge of the crib—but even that faded. Now, his world was experienced on all fours. Crawling felt right. When he tried to stand, his knees buckled. He stopped trying. Every movement became slower, more instinctive. He’d crawl across the nursery floor, distracted mid-journey by the jingling of a rattle or the soft texture of a stuffed bunny. He’d flop onto his padded bottom with a happy babble, the thick crinkle of his diaper wrapping him in sound and safety. His pacifier was always close. He no longer just used it—he needed it. Without it, he fussed and drooled and rubbed his eyes until Jenn gently popped it back in. The rhythmic sucking calmed his mind like a blanket of fog. He forgot what he had been trying to do. He didn’t care. He was safe. He was hers. What little remained of his adult thoughts came in soft fragments. A fleeting memory of jeans. A name whispered in a dream. A vague embarrassment when Mommy’s friends changed his diaper together and giggled at how "full" he was. But even those moments passed like clouds. His emotions became simpler, rawer. Hunger made him cry. Fullness made him sleepy. Love came as the warmth of her arms. Shame as the cold tickle of a messy diaper. Excitement as the jingle of the toy keys she’d dangle over his crib. He lived moment to moment, need to need. And in that space, something beautiful bloomed. When she cradled him to her chest, he no longer felt like a grown man humiliated—he felt like her baby. When she bounced him gently on her knee and praised him for a “big baby burpy,” he gurgled and giggled, proud of himself. He’d cling to her blouse, cheek pressed to her breast, sighing with contentment as he nursed. There was no fear. No decisions. No loneliness. Just Mommy. The weeks passed like petals falling gently from a blossom. Each day, Ellie’s world grew smaller, softer, and sweeter—until all she knew was Mommy’s voice, warm bottles, powder-scented diapers, and the slow rhythm of being rocked to sleep. Her old life had faded into something distant and unreal, like a dream half-remembered. What remained was pure comfort, pure surrender. And then one morning, Jenn leaned over the crib with a twinkle in her eye and whispered, “Guess what, baby girl? Today is your first birthday.” Ellie blinked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, hugging her stuffed lamb. Jenn giggled. “Yes, sweetheart. One whole year of being Mommy’s baby. We’re going to have such a special day.” The morning of her baby girl’s birthday was soft and golden, sunlight slipping through the frilly curtains of the nursery. Jenn entered quietly, humming as she crossed to the crib. Inside, he was already stirring—diapered, pacified, arms splayed, with one thumb curled into his fist. “Good morning, birthday baby,” she whispered. He blinked up at her, then babbled around his pacifier. “Mmm-mmm” She pulled back the covers, scooped him up with practiced ease, and cradled him against her hip. “Today’s your big day, sweet girl. Mommy’s going to spoil you so much.” The day began with a special bath. Lavender-scented bubbles and a soft pink sponge. Jenn washed her baby girl gently, cooing and humming, then wrapped her in a warm hooded towel shaped like a bunny. Back in the nursery, Jenn laid Ellie on the changing table and powdered her thoroughly. Today’s diaper was extra thick—decorated with cupcakes and little hearts—and taped on snugly. After nursing and a diaper change with extra powder and lotion “just to feel pretty,” she dressed him in something special: a white satin dress puffed with layers of pink tulle, complete with heart-shaped buttons, puff sleeves, and a matching bonnet. Ribbons laced through the back. The final touch was a diaper cover. Lace-trimmed, frilly, and utterly girlish. Jenn held her up to the mirror. “There she is—my birthday baby,” she said proudly. “The prettiest little girl in the whole world.” He didn’t fight it. He cooed as she clipped a pacifier to his dress with a string of pink beads and kissed his forehead. The living room had been transformed: pink and lavender streamers, balloons with “1st Birthday Princess” printed in sparkly letters, and a cake shaped like a stuffed unicorn. Her friends arrived one by one, cooing as they entered, bearing presents wrapped in pastel paper—booties, onesies, plushies, rattles, bibs that read “Mommy’s Little Angel.” A high chair sat at the head of the table, decked in ruffles and ribbons, with a matching party hat waiting for the guest of honor. Jenn’s friends began arriving one by one, each bringing a gift wrapped in nursery print paper—rattles, dresses, plushies, bottles, and pacifiers. They all took turns greeting Ellie with high-pitched squeals and exaggerated coos. “Oh my goodness, look at her!” “She’s gotten so big—but still such a baby!” “Is she crawling yet in those thick diapies?” “Oh my goodness, she’s just perfect,” one woman said, kneeling to squish his diaper and tickle his feet. “You’ve done so well, Jenn.” “I know,” Jenn said proudly, lifting him up so everyone could see his flushed, drooling smile. “She’s exactly who she’s meant to be.” They played baby party games—“Pass the Pacifier,” “Guess the Diaper Cream,” and even a photo session where Jenn laid him across a pink blanket surrounded by rose petals and glitter letters spelling ONE. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t walk—just clapped, giggled, and kicked while all eyes adored him. Ellie sat in her high chair, hands resting on the tray, cheeks flushed beneath the party hat. Jenn served her a slice of cake—but instead of letting her use utensils, she encouraged her to use her hands, giggling as Ellie smeared frosting on her face. “Messy girl!” Jenn laughed, wiping her face with a soft bib. “That’s what first birthdays are for.” After cake, came the presents—each one unwrapped for her by Jenn as Ellie bounced on her lap. There were plushies shaped like kittens, musical toys, embroidered onesies that said Mommy’s Angel, and even a custom pacifier with her name etched in glittery letters. “You’re spoiled, baby girl,” Jenn whispered, kissing her forehead. That night, after the guests had gone, Jenn sat in the rocker with her baby in her arms, nursing her quietly in the golden twilight. The soft music box tinkling nearby. He was dressed in a footed sleeper, his thumb resting lazily in his mouth. His eyes were half-closed, hazy with milk and birthday sugar, body slack and sleepy in her arms. “Today wasn’t just your birthday,” she whispered. “It was your rebirth. From now on, there’s no in-between. No little traces of the big you left. Just my baby girl, through and through.” Ellie’s eyes blinked slowly as she suckled. She didn’t feel fear—only peace. Deep, complete peace. After feeding, Jenn placed her in a new crib—larger, sturdier, and with her name carved into the footboard. “You’ll be in this crib for a long time, my love,” she said, tucking her in with a new plushie shaped like a butterfly. “Mommy will always be right here.” The world outside changed with seasons. But inside Jenn’s home, time moved differently. For Ellie, every day began the same way: soft lullabies drifting through the nursery, the scent of warm milk, and Mommy’s hands lifting her from a crib she no longer ever left on her own. Two years had passed since that first magical transformation, and not once had Ellie dressed herself, used a toilet, or spoken a full sentence without permission. She was no longer “learning” to be a baby girl. She was one. By now, Ellie had her own rhythm—a perfectly structured day designed by Jenn, who had left behind her old career to become a full-time Mommy. She had proudly transformed her life just as she’d transformed her baby girl’s. Mornings began with songs, snuggles, and diaper changes. Ellie had become fully used to wetting without thinking, trusting that Mommy would take care of it. Her body no longer hesitated—it simply obeyed. “I think someone’s soaked,” Jenn would murmur lovingly, checking the squishy front of Ellie’s nighttime diaper. “Let’s get that princess bottom nice and clean.” After changing, it was time for playroom hours. A space filled with oversized stuffed animals, sensory toys, soft pastel mats, and even a big ball pit just for Ellie and her “nursery siblings”. Other littles who came over for daytime care. Sometimes Jenn would dress her in adorable rompers with embroidered animals or frilly dresses with matching bloomers. Other times, nothing but a t-shirt and a diaper that crinkled with every crawl. Ellie had long since lost her adult motor skills. Her handwriting was now illegible, her walk awkward and unbalanced without Mommy’s hand. She babbled more than spoke, relying on gestures, giggles, and simple baby words. And Jenn? She praised every sound. “That’s right, baby. Tell Mommy all about it. You’re so clever with your little babbles.” Over the months, a tight-knit community of caregivers and littles blossomed around them. Ellie wasn’t alone—far from it. There were regular nursery playdates, often hosted in Jenn’s backyard, complete with splash pads, plushies, and picnic blankets. Her closest friend was Daisy, a curly-haired baby girl with a mischievous grin and a tendency to throw her bottle when fussy. Their Mommies often coordinated outfits: matching bonnets, twin dresses, and monogrammed bibs. They would babble together in the playpen, pass pacifiers back and forth, or cuddle side by side during nap time. Once, Daisy swatted Ellie with a plush bunny. Both girls were promptly put over their Mommies’ laps and given firm, diapered spankings before being laid down with pacifiers and tears. Afterward, Jenn whispered, “Even the best girls need reminders, sweetheart. And Mommy will always give them.” Ellie never tested her again. What had once been taboo was now routine. Jenn took Ellie everywhere—dressed in full baby attire. Some days it was the farmer’s market, where Ellie sat in the stroller with a sippy cup and a floppy sunhat. Other days it was baby yoga classes, where Mommies gently moved their littles through soft stretches. Even skeptical strangers had come to accept the sight of the sweet, diapered girl clinging to her Mommy’s neck. Jenn never flinched from stares—she beamed with pride. “This is my baby,” she’d say to anyone who asked. “She’s exactly where she belongs.” And Ellie would beam right back behind her pacifier, not with shame, but with joy. Because she knew it was true. By the time the sun sank behind the trees, Ellie was back in her nursery. Bathed, powdered, changed, and dressed in one of her many bedtime onesies. Some had rainbows. Others had unicorns. A few were custom-made with messages like Mommy’s Baby Girl Forever or Too Little to Say No. Jenn would nurse her, then rock her slowly in the glider while reading picture books or telling stories of enchanted lands full of other babies and their loving caretakers. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Jenn whispered one night, brushing a curl from Ellie’s forehead. “And I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” Ellie couldn’t reply—not in words. But her hand reached up, grasping Jenn’s finger. And that was enough. Because even though the world outside kept spinning—inside their perfect little nursery, one truth would never change: Ellie was, is, and always would be Mommy’s baby girl. Jenn had given her something priceless: a new life, one where she was safe, cherished, and truly herself. She stroked his hair, watching him—not just with affection, but with awe. “You’re mine,” she whispered. “You were always meant to be mine.” He wasn’t a man in regression. He was a baby girl in truth. No trace of ego. No need for permission. Just soft babbles, clumsy crawling, wide trusting eyes, and the utter dependency Jenn had craved in her deepest fantasies. And she had created it. Patiently, gently, with love. She sometimes imagined what he’d say if he could form real words again. Would he thank her? Would he weep with gratitude? But even those thoughts felt unnecessary. She didn’t need to hear it. She could feel it in the way he nestled against her when afraid. In how his breathing slowed when she nursed him. In the limp surrender of his body after a bath, wrapped in a towel with “Mommy’s Baby Girl” stitched across the hood. He needed her. And that need made her heart swell with a possessive, maternal pride. He wasn’t a burden. He wasn’t a project. He was her baby girl. Her dream made real.

Hello! Coming in just at the wire on this, but I hope everyone enjoys it. This story has elements of erotic horror, and my entry for the The 4th Kasarberang NON-CONtest! The name here is inspired by an old story by Tainted Sins, but is in no way related to that one. This story is pure age regression. Without Teeth By Operational Systems Chapter 1 The office was located on the edge of a gated residential subdivision and was built in the fashion of modern design principles, it looked like a mix of a one-part coffee house and one part McMansion. Two stories tall, it was layered in red brick and an abundance of tall windows. In a deceptive twist the building did not give a hint of being a dental office from the outside. If one could ignore the kitsch of oversized plastic molars and colorful posters with inspiring motivations in the kiddy waiting area, the lobby of Szekely Family Dentistry and Periodontics went out of its way to hide any evidence of its true purpose. Gerald stretched his arms and repositioned on the gray, blue sofa, casually dropping his barely read copy of Harper’s Bazaar on the coffee table on a pile of W and Tatler’s. His mouth still hurt. For two hours his teeth and gums had been probed by all manner of medieval instrument, pricked, bled, and finally suctioned as the poor dental assistant tried to bring his mouth to something resembling clean. Gerald carefully pawed his right cheek, feeling dull pain in gums and tooth. No matter how hard he brushed the day before, the dentist always found a way to make him feel inadequate. The moment floss touched his delicate tissue, his mouth would turn red like a cherry drink. Dr. Szekely barely looked at his mouth. Normally she would berate him as he felt her clawing fingers maneuver along what was undeniably his most degrading and disgusting part of his body, but today she was silent, thanking her assistant for the excellent work, and sending Gerald to the lobby to wait while his wife had a similar cleaning. At least she did not mention cavities, or gingivitis, or anything. Not even a recommendation to avoid food or drink for thirty minutes. That had worried him. His wife’s insurance was paying too much money to the doctor to just shrug and do nothing. He glanced at the phone again, it was fifteen past five. His wife always had perfect pearls, she should have been in and out in thirty minutes. The office had already closed, and the sun lingered both blinding and angrily in the western facing windows. The receptionist had already turned off the lobby televisions and sorted the array of toys and magazines in the kiddy area. His wife had been gone for close to an hour. Just as he was about to get up and explore the lobby the dental assistant returned, peeking just her head into the room. “Gerald?” He turned to the long-haired woman, confused why she would ask for him in that questioning manner when he was the only one in the lobby. “Come with me please.” He practically hopped up, almost giddy. Not that he wanted his wife to suffer, but he was starting to put it together. Little Ms. Perfect had a cavity. It was the only explanation. That is what was taking so long, and she now needed him to come get her. Maybe she had even taken some Novocain or Nitrous Oxide and needed him to help get to the car. He was going to hold this over her head forever, but first he would have to be the bigger man. He casually rubbed his fingers, getting the excitement out, before calming down and standing straight, walking tall to save his wife. The assistant led him past rooms with empty dental chairs. Deep into the interior of the office, farther than he had ever gone before, the two came to a closed door. She knocked, and then opened it, letting Gerald through before slinking off without a word. The interior had no signs of dental equipment. No reclining chairs, overhanging lights, sinks, or instruments of torture. On the far side of the room was a shaded window, which had framed degrees on both sides. Closer was a set of two heavy chairs with thin padded back and bottom, one was empty and the other had his wife. Across from her was Doctor Szekely behind a stripped down clean wooden desk. Outside of a small form factor microcomputer and monitor on the edge, the desk was empty of distraction. Melody’s golden hair and bright smile invited her husband to her adjacent seat, patting it as he entered. Gerald hypnotically walked to the chair, and slowly sat down, strong tension building in his arms as he waited. The two women eyed him like a snake on a rabbit. This was not about a cavity; he was not here to rescue his wife. This was an intervention. Melody began the assault, “Gerald, honey, sorry for making you wait, Valorie and I were just talking about the old days.” He tilted his head at his wife, he remembered her mentioning that back in college they had been in a sorority together. He turned from his wife to the dark-haired short woman, her thick glasses hiding her thin face, her short hair was kept up in waves of curls. Gerald felt the need to fill in, “Right, so um, are you ready to go, or?” The women stared through him, and he shrunk two inches in the chair. Valorie started first, “Gerald, I’m going to be honest with you. Since I started practice in this neighborhood, you have the worst teeth of anyone I have ever met.” This neighborhood referred to ‘Arborville Manors by the Lake,’ a gated subdivision where plots started at a quarter million dollars, and most houses were in the seven to eight figure range. Thirty years ago, it would have been plagued by McMansions, but the taste and aesthetics of the new rich had been refined in the new century. Now the houses were designer homes, with bleached sandstone-colored exteriors kept to sensible stubby standards, and with gorgeous mono-white insides. At a minimum one could find two oven kitchens with temperature-controlled glass encased wine pantries, and every bedroom attached to a full bathroom. It was the kind of rich that only focused on what mattered, just having the best of the normal stuff, rather than the gaudy or flashy. Gerald’s wife had some money both from family and by working remotely as a production manager in software development at a firm that was now half owned by Microsoft, but Gerald was the one who bought the house. They had met fifteen years ago, when he was working as an IT employee at a local firm that sold its business to various banks and small businesses in the Tulsa area. Back then he spent ten hours a day driving around town and fixing printers. One day after reading a convincing enough blogpost, he bought a hundred bitcoin at ninety-one cents apiece. Four years later he was day-trading novel crypto coins, and by eight years he never needed to work again. He spent a few hours each day staying on top of things, reading twitter, and playing the markets, but it wasn’t a real job anymore. Gerald understood the implication of what Doctor Szekely was getting at. She serviced a community of some of the richest people in Oklahoma, and out of all of them, he alone had failed. Rich people don’t have bad teeth. Yet here he was, nuovo-rich, unearned in his status, and still having the habits of the below middle-class childhood he had grown up with. Out of all the other rich people, he was the one who had gotten here basically by lottery – being an idiot and investing in invisible sham coins at their low point. His neighbors were surgeons, real estate investors, and presidents of banks. They owned oil fields, restaurants, even golf courses, and their wine cabinets were filled with thousand-dollar bottles. Gerald had converted his wine room into a server rack. Gerald carefully ran his tongue across sore gums, “I um… I heard there was a new bacteria treatment. Maybe I could try that.” Valorie gave a high-pitched chortle, “Ha, homeopathic whim-wham,” Her face turned serious, “Besides you’re well past that point.” “Past?” Gerald was concerned, he eyed his wife, and clenched his teeth hard, in his mind they became brittle, and he consciously let up the crushing. Melody reached over and touched his arm gently. “Unfortunately, you’re at a point I think the best move is to take them out,” his dentist coldly offered. Gerald rejected her solution, “Dentures? No. That’s not going to happen.” Everyone looked at him, giving him the floor, he struggled, “I think that’s a bit far. Can’t I just do better? Brush more? Anything. I don’t need dentures. I’m only thirty-seven.” The doctor gave a soft response, “I understand this is coming as a shock, but your mouth is at stage four, and those teeth are going to be a problem over the next year. We can take them out safely and you’ll be good as new.” Gerald turned and pleaded, “Please, Melody, I get this is your friend, but this is too fast. I think we should get a second opinion.” Melody’s smile took away his doubts, “Look I understand you’re upset, but it’ll be OK. Besides, you don’t have to get dentures. We were just discussing this new treatment.” No dentures? Gerald fell back in his chair, that would be a relief, but what was the alternative to dentures? Doctor Szekely rolled on her chair slightly and grabbed with her short arms the monitor on the edge of her desk, rotating it around for the couple to see, she then fiddled with a hidden mouse. The monitor switched from empty shiny blackness to a bright blue. She began her presentation, “Gerald, I’m going to be as blunt as I can. When’s the last time you saw a fat person in our neighborhood?” The man rotated his head up and thought of it. Everyone had a tall fence, but every morning there were still joggers, bikers, and so forth that ran around the streets or walked pets. Many were old, but none were unfit. It was a strange question and one he hadn’t thought of, he shrugged. “And do you know why?” The doctor lingered on the last word, then without letting him respond, moved to the answer, “Because there’s a shot that costs ten thousand dollars that half the people here are taking” With a click of her mouse, the screen on the desk changed to a power point picture, with an open mouth. “What if I were to tell you, there’s an Ozempic but for teeth.” Gerald looked past her thick glasses into her eyes, “I would say I don’t know what that means.” She clicked again, the screen shifted to a shot going into mouth, and pressing into a gumline, “With my new Dentvive Regrowth Therapy, it is possible to convince your mouth to grow new teeth and replace the old ones.” The scene on the monitor shifted, showing teeth beginning to grow and pop out of the gums. Gerald leaned forward, “This is impossible.” The doctor waived him off, “You did it a couple times before, you just don’t remember the first time. The equipment is still in there, the procedure just convinces your mouth it’s time to grow new teeth. This is also why we need to take your old teeth out, both to get access to the gumline, and to give the new teeth room to come in.” Melody leaned over to him, “Honey, if this works, it’s a billion-dollar idea. She just needs a bit of help in these early stages, just get some of the kinks out, and this is your chance to really fix yourself up.” Gerald’s shoulders fell, Doctor Szekely wasn’t showing this because she believed in the treatment to cure him, she was showing this to him because she wanted him as an investor. He was the first person who was both rich enough to afford the treatment and would understand how life-changing and important it would be. He looked back to his wife, and she was eager to get his approval to help her friend. Four eyes stuck on him, desperately needing him to agree. Gerald resigned himself. This is what it meant to live in the future, not flying cars, but 100 gig internet and biohacking the body. This was just science. He put his trust in it. “OK, let’s do it. What’s the next step, what do you need me to do?” “Well, we can start the surgery as soon as Friday morning if you’re up for it, but I need to program the booster-cells with your genetic tissue. I can collect that sample now if you’re ready.” Gerald started to roll up a sleave on his arm, “What like blood?” The doctor gave another chuckle, “Ha, no I need gametes,” she leaned over and started fiddling with a desk drawer below her. Melody leaned forward and whispered, “That’s your sperm, honey.” Gerald nodded, clenching his swollen teeth again, “Do you want me to get a magazine and go in the bathroom, or…” Melody talked down, “Oh honey, don’t be gross.” The doctor flopped a large cylinder on her desk. It was open on one end and closed with black machinery and cords on the bottom. The doctor smiled while waving over the strange device “We have more practical methods of extraction.” Goosebumps went up Gerald’s arms and his member tightened. He took a long breath before smiling. His teeth rattled. Melody gripped his arm with one hand, “I know going to the dentist is scary, but what if, I just hold onto you for this.” Her other arm reached over towards his belt and jeans. He softly released a groan, “I don’t,” this was going too fast, but before he could complain his jeans were being pulled down. His instrument started to probe his dark cloth boxers in excitement. There were two ladies here, and they wanted him to perform. “I, uh” “You can do it baby, just relax, let us handle everything,” Melody spoke as Doctor Szekley’s short figure came around her desk. Her small breasts were barely contained by her green scrubs, in contrast to Melody’s copious melons. The doctor twirled her strange cylinder like a hypnotist’s watch as she slowly walked towards him, and finally she kneeled before him. Her glasses picked up a strong blur of light from the ceiling, leaving him only to imagine what delight or disgust the woman was showing at presenting herself in such a debasing way. His wife carefully pulled down his boxers around his engorging member. He tried to keep his eyes directly onto her face, rather than on the procedure that was happening below. Melody was calm yet happy, as if this were an everyday occurrence, like checking the mail or cooking dinner. The warm plastic of around the rim of the cylinder pushed into his skin, contrasting with the cold glass surface that bumped into his penis from shaking small hands. A flick of a switch was soon followed by a familiar whir of suction. The same sound he had heard for nearly two hours straight while they cleaned his teeth. Jets of air pulled at his hair, scrotum, and phallus. “Just relax baby, let it out,” Melody scootched closer, letting her hand come down around the base of the cylinder, touching sensitive skin at the base of his member and bottom of his testicles. He was uncomfortable close. He forced himself over the edge. Every muscle contracted and relaxed in order from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes. His hips pushed deep against the cylinder, causing markings where the cup pressed into his skin. “A little more,” the doctor said, white ooze coating what was once a clear container. It was starting to hurt, but it kept going, like he could not turn it off. His eyesight faded to blurs and blackness, while painful pulling continued. Whatever pleasure he had had was transitioning to terrible pain as it felt all the sperm in his balls were being sucked out. After an eternity or ten seconds, Doctor Szekley turned off the pump and lifted away the cylinder. Fishing out a cap from her pocket she closed the precious cargo off. The doctor held up the ugly coated tube before her patient, and with professional detachment spoke to them. “This should be good enough for now. If I need more, I’ll let you know.” Gerald kept quiet on the car ride home, dual pains of his mouth and groin came at every movement of his body. He eyed his wife suspiciously when she stopped the car, lingering at the exit to the dental office. “Now, since you’re getting brand new teeth, you know what that means right?” He mumbled something that sounded close to a response, he just wanted to get home and throw a blanket over his head. Her face tightened, serious and commanding, and the voice shifted lower, “Every day you’re going to be brushing and flossing. Every day and after every meal. We are not doing this procedure again, you hear me?” Chapter 2 There are some nightmares that are universal. Falling from a great height, giving a speech, and standing in front of class naked. Many of these are subject to ethnicity and cultural bias. But there is one that is universal, which all humans can have across time and space. It’s the dream where the teeth fall out. On the evening following his operation Gerald awoke to this nightmare. His tongue flicked across an empty void; his lips were propped up against nothing. His cheeks had plumped up after the operation and he could feel nothing in his face. It was a giant cotton ball. Drool accumulated on his chin. He tried to stand up, but he was locked in, his eyes wandered around an empty dark room. He was not in the master bedroom, he was in the guest room by the garage. “Melody.” He tried, only his mouth could not form sounds right, spewing out something closer to Memmoy. It was slurred too and came out more like a loud gurgle. There was no clock in the darkened room, but he suspected it was not too late. He tried again “Memmoy.” No sounds came from the house. Gerald rotated slightly against the pillows and immediately felt dizzy. He closed his eyes and shouted for Memmoy again, but all that came out was a groan. He could not get up or move without assistance. His heart rate started to rapidly increase and between his legs there was a small but growing concern. He took a large breath through his nose and tried one last time, “Melody!” He stopped and listened, feeling the pressure build. He crossed his legs, and slowly started shuffling them back and forth under the blanket. Today was already one of the worst of his life, but this would elevate it to the worst. “Memmoy! Memmoy!” Sweat built in his underpants. There was nothing to be done. He waited an eternity, but no one came. He tried again to slowly stand up, but his body shut down, dragging him back into the bed. Sweat formed on his forehead, and his eyes crushed shut. He was not going to do that. He felt it first as pleasure; hot release of his building tension, but his ears noticed the light sounds of liquid bouncing against cloth. Soon his member was soaked, he could feel the warm liquid falling along the insides of his thighs, creating an acidic warmth that would fade to stickiness. His nostrils picked up the rich odor of fresh urine as the last drops fell through his boxers into the mattress cover. His butt was covered in quickly cooling wetness. “Honey did you need something?” He tried, “I peed myself.” But what came out was more of an Uh Eeh Muh. Wetness was building over his overstuffed face. Within moments she was over him, her nose told her enough. “Oh baby, it’s OK, the doctor said this might happen. Here let me help you to the bath.” She pulled him up and the world was a blur of colors and shapes. His head was somewhere around his feet, but also hanging against her shoulder. “Up we go.” Gerald was unaware of anything other than quickly cooling clothing. His eyes were stuck shut and his head was full of cotton balls. He leaned hard against Melody, and she slowly held him up, bringing his legs to the floor and carefully carrying him on wobbling legs to the door. Gerald was barely aware of the shift in lights, but soon found himself in the guest bathroom. In a minute he was propped up against cool acrylic, as small hands were disrobing his limited clothing, including his soiled underpants. He focused his energies on staying propped against the wall. This was probably the first time this bath had ever been used since they moved into the house four years ago. Between the relaxing bubbles and vapors of warm almond and butter, Gerald found consciousness hard to maintain. He would linger on throbbing sensations along his cheeks and gums between smooth washing from his wife’s cloth. Either between the drugs or her delicate approach, he hardly felt as she moved soap along his sweaty and soiled skin. The motions of the water and her hands, or perhaps the gentle humming she was doing, was enough to cause him to lose consciousness. Not for long, he told himself, just a few seconds, or minutes. It was long enough for Melody to shave his adult hair below the face, and long enough for his hands to shrivel while the bath water turned cold. He awoke hearing the water start to glug into the drain but was unsure of what was happening. His wife’s hands gently guided him up, and upon command he stepped out of the shower. “OK time to get your new jammies on, and you can come join me to bed.” “Careful with my mouth.” He tried, mumbling more like aeul weh ma mouw. A gentle fluffing of a towel patted his shoulders, then stomach, and finally waist and legs, leaving him a shivering mess. He stared briefly at his thin exposed member but his eyes could not focus on the hairless monster. He kept them closed as his wife guided him to the toilet for a seat. Up came the soft front, and around his sides came tight plastic. Gerald heard the soft crinkle of tape on plastic and his balls tucked into new underwear that was fluffier than the toilet paper adjacent to his seat. The delightful garment was pulled tight along his waist and cupped over his equipment protectively. His hand came down just after Melody’s and felt the smooth plastic front. He glanced down to see the bright light green, the color of a shamrock shake. “What is this?” Melody did not know what he said, but answered him all the same, “Your medication is pretty strong baby, just a little bit of a safety net. No more accidents.” “I don’t need this.” Even he knew it was just a blur of unheard words. His eyes were getting heavy, he would have cried if it didn’t hurt his mouth too much. “Just for tonight OK, I promise.” She handed him a thin robe which draped over his shoulders. He did not bother to close or tie it, “I know it’s hard. I know this is the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but just a few weeks and you’ll be better than new. You’ll be perfect. Now, tell me, what’s the first thing you’re going to eat when you get your new teeth?” “Eayg” “Eggs?” She answered confused. “Eaayg” She still did not know what he said, but she came prepared with her own suggestion, “OH, that sounds exciting, but how about an ice cream sandwich?” “Eye eeam” “Hmm, maybe if you’re good we can try some Eye Eam tomorrow.” She smiled, her baby would be eating lots of ice cream, and sauce, and soups, and purées. He had told her to pick up something like what those pilots ate in the spy planes, with the straws and tubes. She had instead stocked the cabinets with jars of something more down to Earth. As far as Gerald was concerned, his stomach did not exist. He knew he should have been hungry; he had not eaten since the middle of last night, but all he wanted was to close his eyes and end the day. He hinted at this to Melody by closing his eyes and nodding his head. She helped him up, letting him lean against her shoulder as she guided him across the house. It was slow getting to the master bedroom, but once there he was easily guided to the bed and laid down on his side. The last thing he remembered was that bright green undergarment, poking out and rustling against the blanket as he fell into a deeper sleep. Chapter 3 The bed was warm and comfortable, and Gerald had been propped up against four pillows, elevating his head and chest. When his bladder woke him throughout the night, he hardly needed to move. He would not remember the specifics in the morning, but the first time, was a tired release, a surrender. He was rewarded with a soft trinkle of warm urine reflecting against absorbent padding, swelling the midsection around his crotch and falling down towards the plastic rear. He would repeat this a second and third time through the night, waking late in the morning to find the spot where his wife slept empty, and a thick plastic spreading his legs apart. Gerald reached down confused looking at the yellow stained green diaper that he had been dressed in, hands reaching down to smooth plastic landing zone, deformed and heavy, but surprisingly light in dampness. He wiggled briefly on the soft padding, before stretching himself to the edge of the bed. Blood seemed to fall quickly from his head and Gerald paused on the edge. To him it felt like two hours he sat there with his eyes closed, but it was not long before Melody came into the room and touched his shoulder. “Hey, I got you setup down in the family room by the television, and I made you some breakfast. Are you ready to try to eat something?” His stomach growled an answer. Gerald reached out his hand and was guided to the kitchen, each step an awkward waddle as the thick expanded padding below distorted his already dazed movement. He crumbled into a kitchen seat, barely registering an odd strap coming around the edges and holding him up. Melody gave him a short smile, brushed his hair aside and another kiss on the forehead before going to the fridge. Gerald wobbled back in forth on his protected bottom, eager for the first meal in over two days. It was white, sloshing in a clear glass container. Melody had even topped it with a yellow-tan rubber nipple. “What’s this?” Gerald hated milk, and this may have been the first time he had seen it this close in years. Soft air bubbles collected sporadically along the edge, and he watched the liquid cautiously like it was a poisoned cauldron. His question was muffled, but Melody understood it. “You promised we would start things off right with your new teeth, and this is starting things off right. You need this, it has everything to grow strong beautiful teeth.” “And the nipple?” An e Nilalah? He needed to point at it to get her understanding. She came in close, “I thought it would help with your gums. Honey, you’re still drooling,” bringing a napkin up to his swollen face. “Tonight, if your stomach is good we can try some food, but just liquids for now.” He nodded and slowly reached out and grasped the bottle. It shook in his hand, and he reached a second to stabilize it, dragging it across the table to before him. His fingers lifted the chilled surface to his face. It was cold, he assumed with his pain meds he would feel nothing, but the chill was delightful. He locked gums on the end and began to suck and pull, letting the silky liquid land on his tongue. It was heavenly, sugary, with the hint of melon, but thinner than he expected. As it poured into his stomach famished singles reached his brain and he felt compelled to keep pouring it into his mouth. Greedily he sucked, drinking, and it assuaged her. She placed two large pills the size of his thumb and encouraged him to swallow the chalky white circles between gulps. He watched Melody wander out of the room and return, bringing first her laptop, and then a large carrying bag. He expected her to explain herself, but she never did. After placing her bag down, she again left him alone in the kitchen. So preoccupied with the drink and her strange actions, he did not notice it until it started. Without pants on the pouring of liquid into his diaper roared in his ears. Gerald froze, trying to stop the stream, which briefly worked before he lost concentration, and his grip let go. He set the bottle down and briefly touched the warm outside of the now ugly green-yellow diaper, the liquid slowly absorbing into the cloth. It felt naughty, and the pleasure of embracing that naughtiness matched the joy from the bottle. He quickly returned to the glass and sucked on it until it was empty. Melody returned, giving an odd sniff, and then scruffed his hair. It was still messy from sleeping on it while wet, and she played with the stray clumps that refused to stay down. “Gerald, honey, I think we should get you changed and then you can see what I setup for you.” She pulled at his hand, leading him out of the kitchen to a wide spot in the living room previously reserved for yoga. A large blanket had been placed on the floor, its light soft blue a contrast to the dark wooden floors. To the side was a set of clothing for him, and a bag of supplies. She pointed, gently pushing him down on the shoulders, “Sit.” He followed, and his now overly large garments rustled loudly as he came down to the floor, the blanket barely softening the hard cold surface below it. She fell to her knees to join him, bringing her hands to his tapes, each pull a sharp contrast to an otherwise quiet room. Soon cold air was washing over his crotch, and she pulled the diaper out and wadded it into a ball to her side. She reached into her bag, before bringing a single wet tissue up for him to see, giving it a slight tug, and then going down to his exposed member. Her hands moved over hairless testicles and penis, cleaning up to his stomach and below his tush. He felt like a king, washed, fed, pampered, and loved. He started reaching over to the shirt she had left, but her hand came up. “Honey, we need to put a second diaper on.” “I don’t need a diaper.” He tried – I on nee a iah er. Close enough she could see it. “You promised just last night.” “I know, I know, but this is just in case, OK? You don’t have to use them. I noticed you leaked a bit at breakfast, that can be a side effect of the pain medicine you’re on.” He nodded defeated. Gerald was soon pampered, a fresh green wrapper as the basis of his outfit for the day. Gym shorts came up next, and a simple white t-shirt on top. She helped him put it over his swollen face and lifted him up, slowly guiding him to the family room, which was located down a set of stairs in the cool basement. There a couch had been setup with a pillow and blanket. She gave him strict instructions, “So, here’s the plan for the day. Sleep and television. That’s it. No work.” His work was not hard, but he could take time off. She had insisted on having him move everything into stable coins just before the surgery – just in case something happened, and he could not get back to it for a long time. He fell onto the couch as he got closer. “Now, I know we had planned for me to be here, but I need to head into work for a few hours.” He blinked confused, “What?” “I know, I know, my boss is coming in and I need to meet him, and we’re interviewing candidates for a new position. It won’t be more than a few hours.” She handed him the remote from the table, “Will you be OK here? I promise to come back soon.” “Phone?” (Oohne) “I’ll drop your phone off before I leave. Now you get some sleep in, those pills are going to do a number on you.” He nodded and closed his eyes, falling into a light sleep. He would awaken an hour later. Gerald turned slightly, drool having built up on his pillow and shirt. On the coffee table was a large one-and-a-half-foot tall ape – a joke gift she had picked up for him at the height of the NFT craze – with chubby strong arms, and dark gray to black fur. It was sitting on his phone. He pushed aside the toy and pulled at the phone, checking the time, and tried to connect to the internet. The phone struggled, before he looked up at the top right. A small symbol <! next to 5G indicated he had no internet in the family room basement. He flicked over to network settings and tried to connect to the wifi. The phone whirled for a bit, before letting him know it was unable to connect, he had an invalid password. “Melody!” He shouted, to no avail. Memmy (Mommy) wasn’t home. He put it back on the table and reached for the TV remote instead. The large sixty-inch television flicked silently to life. He maneuvered around the menu. He clicked on Netflix. Like a guard at the gate the television questioned him, “Who is watching?” Gerald, Melody, and Damien. Melody had watched her sister’s seven-year-old son, Damien, a few times last summer. He would spend hours in the family room, just watching television he could not get at home. Gerald clicked his own name, only to find a password lock. He did not watch Netflix often, and nothing came to mind. He tried a few simple combinations but after three tries he gave up. He found a similar password lock on Melody. Finally, he clicked on Damien. Melody had setup parental controls on the television in an attempt to keep Damien from accessing inappropriate content. The only shows available where cartoons and educational programs. Disappointed, he flicked out of Netflix and tried Amazon, only to find a similar set of locks. Disney and Hulu were also set on kiddie mode. For the first time in ten years, he flicked to basic cable. The cartoon was flat, but clearly made with the help of a computer. A brown striped tiger sporting a red jacket hopped into a car along with his mother. “Open your mouth and do a quiet roar,” the television told him, taunting him at a simple task even he could no longer do. Gerald flipped the channel but was blocked by a channel lock out. He flipped the other way and got the weather. Disappointed, he reached over to his phone and sent a message to his wife. After a minute she responded to his text message. “Oh, sorry honey, the password is in my book at home. I must have locked the TV when Daniel was here and forgot to unlock it. Can you still find something to watch? 😊 😊” With nothing better, he returned to his tiger show, falling asleep within minutes. Hours later he awoke to a rumbling pressure in his stomach, the show had switched to a young girl with sharp white skin, bunny ears, and red overalls. Painfully Gerald brought himself to a straight posture against his pillow, his shorts had bulged slightly in the front, and pulled padded cloth tightly into his butt. The action pulled at his bowels, which had just awoken for the first time in close to three days. “I need to poop” Gerald talked to himself, “You can do this. Get up. Get up.” He leaned over the couch and placed his hands to his side to push himself up, his goal was to walk to the basement bathroom on the other side of the room. Instead, there was a plorp sound from his abdomen. “No!” He wanted to cry. It felt like when he had gone to fart, but a poop had escaped as well. It lingered in the crack of his butt, stuck between the pad and his skin, unable to fall. He shifted angrily, plucking a hand at his back, before falling over back to his pillow. The accident felt like a mountain, and it slowly fell down before getting squished by his posterior. His mind amplified the smell, and wetness came to his face. “Melody!” He tried. Nothing. No response. “Mommy!” He tried again. Again, nothing. He stayed there for an eternity, being judged by the rabbit on the television and his ape, the soul witnesses to how he had messed himself like a pathetic baby. He slapped the monkey off the table and hid himself behind his pillow, eventually falling back to sleep. Melody tried to comfort him later as she changed him. “It’s just the size of a pea. It’s hardly something to get upset about.” Melody understood what to say, to bring him back down. She cleaned and replaced his diaper without a fuss and brought him back to the kitchen for dinner. Her meal was a chopped salad, filled with field greens, zucchini, squash, and mushroom. The avocado and vinaigrette tantalized his senses. For him she presented a purée. “Is this the pilot food? The one I asked you to get?” “Oh sorry, this is something local, I think you’ll like it though,” she said, taking a thin small spoon and mixing the orange color. Carefully she brought the spoon up his mouth, “Mmm.. Mmm.. Smells good, what’s my baby boy going to have?” Gerald’s mouth hurt to stretch but he tried his best. It was unexpectedly grainy, but he picked up the flavor immediately –room temperature sweet potato. There was a hint of squash as well. He wanted to spit it out, but Melody tilted the spoon back and it slimed down his throat. “Good job,” she said, returning to her own salad, and leaving the spoon in the thin bowl in front of him. Hunger forced his hand, and he reached out with shaking hands towards the spoon. With careful movement he slowly brought it up to his mouth. Slime and plastic bounced off his cheeks as he missed. Shaking hands tried again, this time reaching his lips. He sucked slightly on his dinner, before his lips and jaw lost control and dropped the spoon in a drooling mess. Orange and brown liquid smacked the table and splattered across his white shirt. Melody was fast grabbing the spoon before it rolled off the table, “Whoopsie. That’s OK, but it looks like we’ll need a bib in the future. How about I take over spoon duties for you.” Her hands wiped the spoon with a napkin and then restocked it. She brought it up to his mouth. Gerald shook his head. The aftertaste of squash and potato lingered in his mouth. This was too much for even him and he would rather starve than eat anymore of the goop. Melody would not take no for an answer. “Choo choo. Come on honey you can do it. Please, this is important. You need to get something in you, you’ve been on medicine for two days and your stomach can’t handle it. No more pea sized loads.” She shook the spoon before his face “Choo.” Gerald reluctantly opened again and quickly had his mouth stuffed. “Milk?” Gerald asked, hoping for anything to wash out the disgusting taste. “After dinner. If you finish it all, I have a surprise for you.” Melody hinted. When dinner was finished, she took her husband back to the master bedroom, sitting him down on his side, before moving over to hers. She undressed her shirt and bra and propped up a set of pillows, letting her sit vertically against the bed board. She signaled for him to come over and he rolled closer, confused. “I’ve been taking some pills Valorie gave me, can you tell?” She waved over her thin body, but Gerald saw nothing out of the ordinary and said nothing. “They’re getting me all bothered and excited, and I want to try this. This might be the only time I get to try this. Lay yourself on my lap.” She commanded. Her hands gently brought him down, and he stared up at her, his back laying against her thighs. With both arms, she reached around him, and slowly dragged him up. “What are we doing?” He tried. A ah ee oin? She heard. “Just, be careful, and do what feels natural, open wide.” He stared at fleshy fatty orbs as she slowly guided his heavy head to the right one, her left. He was without practice, but eager, and after a couple tries his toothless mouth latched down around the nipple. She winced as the pressure pulled at her fatty orbs, but soon began to draw out the nectar in a fashion more comfortable than when she had used a pump this morning for his breakfast. Gerald could smell the fatty silk. It was different from the morning brew, being room temperature but also fresh, but similar in thin suaveness that had a hint of fruity familiarity. Shivers of joy began to flow through him, as he pressed into the fatty breasts of a woman. He brought one arm up to stabilize himself around her back, and she in turn released her own right arm to massage his diaper. Dull throbbing came through his plastic protection, bringing him to an edge, his penis forced into the partially damp interior. Soon a long shiver ran through his body, and into her nursing breasts. Exhausted by the experience, Gerald’s body fell into a soft slumber, and she cradled her baby for several minutes before setting him gently down on his own side of the bed. Chapter 4 Doctor Szekely held the tablet close to her and smiled as she filtered through his x-rays. The three had retreated to Valorie’s office to review the progress in secret. It had been a week since the surgery, and in that time Gerald’s control below seemed to only worsen. He was grateful the thick diapers his wife has bought were not visible even under his dark shorts; though they were definitely audible when he wiggled in his discomfort on the padded bottoms. “Your new teeth are coming in just fine, here take a look,” She rotated the tablet over for Melody and Gerald to see. Melody pointed to the small bones, “oh they look like little baby teeth. How adorable.” Gerald winced at word baby. He had not been feeling very adult the past few days. “Have you noticed any pain yet? There are some devices I can recommend to help normalize your natural bight.” Valorie threw out casually. Melody answered, “I bought some already. He likes to leave the therapeutic mouth rings in the freezer, gets them all cold and he’ll suck on them for hours.” Gerald shrunk his posture at her mentioning his teething rings. He could use one now. He did not even want to go to the dentist today, he was missing his cartoons. Still he had a question that needed answer. He interrupted their conversation, “What about my incontinence. Why can’t I hold it in anymore.” Valorie tilted her head, not having understood a single word he had said. Melody stepped in to help, “He’s been having potty issues. We thought it was just the medication but he’s been off the pills a couple days now and it’s getting worse.” Behind heavy glasses Valorie seemed to drill into Gerald like he was a cavity to be filled. Gerald shuttered under the pressure and looked down at his slightly bulging shorts. Melody had just changed him before they had left, and his member scratched at the dry padding. Valorie began with a jocular scolding, “You should have told me this was happening!” “Really? Is it bad?” Melody began. “No this is amazing, wonderful. Exactly a sign the treatment is working as intended.” The dentist shook her tablet and brought up a painting tool and started to draw a rudimentary picture. “You see, we put the new stem cells in Gerald’s mouth here. And over time some of them will go into the stomach and digestive tract. Your cells are doing their job, making new baby cells as they go.” Gerald’s mind suddenly flashed with a nightmare image of teeth growing in parts of the body they shouldn’t, a shock image from the early days of the internet. “Am I going to grow teeth in my stomach?” She waved her hand, “Oh no, don’t be ridiculous. The cells got to your bladder and colon and just basically cleaned everything up. You’re getting a brand-new bladder! Isn’t that exciting?” Melody brought up her hands, “Oh that’s wonderful! This is great news.” Gerald shook his head, confused. He did not want a new colon, just new teeth. “What if the cells get into my heart, or my brain?” Melody reached over and pat his thigh comforting. “Don’t worry honey, It’ll be OK, Doctor Szekely is the best.” Gerald nodded, but his concerns were not alleviated. Melody turned to the dentist, “Maybe there’s something you can give him. Like a S – H – O – T.” Gerald turned to his wife, unsure why she thought spelling the word made it unknown to him. Valorie nodded, “Sure, that’s a good idea.” Her voice picked up and directed towards the room’s lone man, “Gerald, I’m going to go get something that will help you feel better, it should keep the cells from doing anything we don’t want them to do. Sound good? You’ll be all better in a few days.” She exited the room and returned with a needle like the kind used for numbing the mouth before a procedure. Melody helped roll up Gerald’s sleeve and hold him, as Valorie poked and dumped the substance into him. There was a brief bit of pain, followed by euphoric numbness. Their meeting concluded; Melody helped Gerald up from his bliss inducing stupor. Below his diaper and shorts had built up some sag but were dwarfed under the length of his oversized shirt. Melody made a note He barely noticed as the two gals led him out that his wife had surpassed him in height by close to two inches. Gerald had to wait near the oversized toothbrush flipping through a Highlights magazine, as Melody scheduled a follow up appointment. A strange signal came to his head as he stared at the colorful images. His eyes lingered on two identical ones, and he struggled to find the differences between the two. His mouth started to throb from a dull pain and he pressed a thumb on the gums to relieve it. Gerald did not even notice as he bent his legs slightly, kneeling closer to the magazine. The man on the left picture had a hat, and the dog on the right picture was pointing the other way, that was only two differences, but the picture insisted there were ten. He carefully moved a finger along the first image, trying to spot more, barely registering as his buttocks expanded pressing outward into a large gaseous mess. The relief caused his eyes to linger upwards before he dragged his attention back to the magazine. She had to pull it out of his hands as they left, he had only found three differences, but he was so close! He started to cry, just like he had the day before when she helped him cash out his digital assets to their shared bank account. A slight whap at his tush was enough to get him back on track. In the car he clung to his monkey angrily, bringing its soft black fur to his lips. The tickling fur offered little comfort to the slight throbbing pain. He would return to the dentist several more times over the coming weeks, but today would be the last time he would sit in the front seat of the car. He had already shrunk half a foot in the first week, and with each follow up shot, more of his body shrunk. By the fourth booster, little Gerald was barely two feet in height. The house quickly changed over the next month, toys littered every room, and Gerald was relegated these days to sleeping in the guest room, now a nursery. She leaned over the heavy white railing of the crib, the wooden bars a straight cage for her baby. Melody easily picked up the sleeping ball laying on his flat mattress, one thumb loosely at his lips. Where a month ago, a grown man had worn green elite briefs, Gerald was now in white parasols, his underpants adorned now with stoic black outlines of bunnies, cats and dogs. He stirred awake and smiled, mouthing the outline of her name without a sound. Melody brought the man over to a rocking chair, carefully undoing her shirt, and pulling down her bra below her engorged breasts. By now Gerald was well practiced and sucked greedily at her tit. There was a knock on the nursery room door, which did not stop the boy, but brought the attention of his new mother. Valorie did not linger at the door, “How’s our little Jerry doing,” she threw out to her partner as she walked across the room. She paused just above the rocking chair, before coming closer to Melody’s face. Gerald paused slightly in the sucking, his wandering eyes pausing on the sight of the two ladies kissing, but this new show of affection was not enough to quell his stomach and he returned to sucking from Melody’s breast. “He’s just the perfect little baby. I think …” her eyes jumped, and she pulled Gerald off her breast in a hurry. “Owe!” She practically yelled. “Are you alright?” Melody turned Gerald’s head, and his gaping milk-soaked mouth yawned widely up at his other mommy. There right on the top of the gum was a brand new piece of pearly stone. “No, the baby bit me!”

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Turn Greg and Sam had been married for five years, and their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Their relationship was built on mutual respect, trust, and a deep emotional connection. They had always been adventurous in the bedroom, exploring each other's desires and fantasies. But lately, Greg had been feeling a growing urge to surrender to Sam's dominance, He couldn't quite explain it, but the thought of being controlled and guided by his wife sent shivers down his spine. Sam had noticed this on a few occasions in the bedroom and realized the excitement it brought for her. She wanted to push this dynamic further, the thought of it bringing intense arousal. One night as they made love, Greg found himself trying to nudge Sam's head down, hinting that he wanted her to give him oral pleasure. But Sam had other plans. She gently kissed him, her lips brushing against his, and then pushed him down, her hands firm but gentle on his shoulders. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized she was taking charge. He complied, his body responding to her touch as he sank down onto the bed. Sam stood on her knees, towering over Greg as he positioned himself on all fours. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with anticipation, and Greg could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sam's eyes locked onto his, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. Without a word, Sam directed Greg's head to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, offering them to him like a gift. Greg's lips closed around her nipple, and he began to suckle, feeling a sense of comfort and security wash over him. Sam's hands guided his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him in place. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the moment. As they lingered there, Sam's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the curve of Greg's spine. She pushed him down, her touch gentle but insistent, until his face was inches from her vagina. Greg's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she wanted. He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation, but his desire for her overrode any doubts. Sam's eyes never left his as she began to thrust against him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Greg's tongue danced across her skin, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. He was lost in the sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the scent and feel of her. Time seemed to slow down, and all that existed was the two of them, lost in this intimate dance. As they moved together, Sam's voice whispered in his ear, "Stick your fingers inside me, Greg. Taste me." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he complied, his fingers sliding into her warmth. The sensation was electrifying, and he felt himself becoming even more aroused. But Sam wasn't done yet. She took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, and guided his thumb into her. Greg felt a jolt of surprise, but before he could react, Sam locked eyes with him and pushed his thumb into his mouth. The sensation was shocking, yet strangely erotic. Greg's mind reeled as he sucked his own thumb, the taste of Sam's arousal mingling with his own. As Greg's thumb slid into his mouth, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, one that made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But despite his initial hesitation, he couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that coursed through his veins. He was turned on, and he knew it. Sam seemed to sense his conflicted emotions, and she smiled to herself as she kept his thumb in place. She gently laid him down on his back, her hands guiding him onto the softness of the bed. Greg felt himself sinking into the mattress, his body relaxed and open to her touch. As he lay there, Sam straddled his face, her thighs spreading wide as she positioned herself above him. She began to gyrate, her hips moving in a slow, sensual circle as she rubbed herself against the back of his hand while he sucked his thumb. He mound forcing it into his mouth while he tasted her juice. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the rhythm of her movements. Sam's eyes never left his, her gaze burning with a fierce intensity as she watched him. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he gazed up at her. She knew he was turned on, and she was determined to take him to the edge. As she moved above him, Sam reached down and wrapped her fingers around Greg's cock. She stroked him gently, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "Come for me, baby," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire. "Let go and come for me." Greg felt himself building towards a climax, his body tensing as he strained towards release. And then, in a burst of sensation, he exploded, his semen spilling out onto his stomach as he cried out in pleasure. Sam smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him come. She leaned forward, her body pressing down onto his as she wrapped her arms around him. Greg felt himself being pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, and he let himself relax into her touch. As they lay there, Greg realized that he was still sucking his thumb, the digit still lodged in his mouth. He felt a surge of embarrassment, and he quickly pulled it out, his face flushing with heat. Sam noticed his reaction, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. Greg felt himself blush even deeper, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He knew he was in this now, and he was excited to see where it would lead. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Greg couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He felt more vulnerable, more open, and more connected to Sam than he had in a long time. And as he looked up at her, he knew that he was ready to explore this new dynamic, to see where it would take them and what secrets they would uncover along the way. Chapter 2: A Night of Reckoning As the days went by, Greg and Sam had repeated the scenario that had started with his thumb a few times, but they had also fallen back into their routine. It was as if they had dipped their toes into a new world, but then retreated back to the comfort of their familiar dynamic. However, the memory of that first night lingered, and Greg couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between them. One night, as they lay in bed after a lovely dinner and a bottle of wine, Greg found himself spooning with Sam, his head resting on her chest. She was looking down at him, her eyes gazing at his peaceful expression. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light on their skin. As they lay there, Greg started to nudge his head into Sam's breasts, his lips brushing against her shirt. She smiled to herself, recognizing the subtle cue. She began to tease him, moving her breasts slightly, just out of reach, and then pulling him in closer. The game was on, and Greg's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the sensation. Sam's hands gently pulled her shirt down, exposing her breasts to Greg's eager lips. He latched onto one, sucking gently, and Sam felt a surge of pleasure. She transferred him to the other breast, and as he sucked, she felt his hand moving, his fingers brushing against her skin. She guided his hand down, her fingers intertwining with his, until they reached her vagina. Greg's fingers slid inside her, and Sam felt a wave of excitement. She was already wet, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. As he fingered her, she began to move her hips, her body responding to his touch. The sensation built, and soon she was coming, her body trembling with pleasure. As she came down from her climax, Sam realized that Greg was hard, his erection pressing against her leg. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of dominance wash over her. She was in control, and he was responding to her every move. With a gentle touch, Sam took Greg's thumb and ran it through her juices, the sticky liquid coating his skin. She then slowly nudged his hand near her breasts, her eyes locked onto his. Greg pretended not to notice, but Sam knew he was aware of her intent. She kept nudging his hand, her touch insistent, until he finally looked up at her with sad eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. Sam's heart swelled with emotion, and she felt a deep connection to Greg. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and kissed his forehead. With a gentle but firm touch, she pushed his thumb into his mouth. Greg's eyes widened, and he started sucking, his lips closing around his thumb. Sam whispered into his ear, "Good boy...such a good boy." Her words sent shivers down his spine, and he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. As he sucked his thumb, Sam reached down and touched his cock through his boxer shorts. The touch was electrifying, and Greg felt himself coming, his semen spilling out into his pants. The sensation was intense, and he was taken aback by the sudden release. Sam was surprised, too, as it had never happened before. Greg's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment as he looked up at her. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth, his eyes downcast. Sam's voice was soothing and mocking at the same time, "Oopsie, so excited you had a little accident! What a good boy you are for me, but someone might need a little protection next time, don't worry, I'll take care of you baby." Greg didn't quite understand what she meant, but he felt a sense of reassurance wash over him. As they lay there, Greg's eyelids began to droop, his body relaxing into sleep. As he fell asleep. Sam slid his hand that was on the pillow back towards his mouth, and in his sleepiness he accepted it, his thumb slipping back into his lips. He fell asleep, his body trusting and vulnerable. Sam looked at him, her heart full of love and affection. She realized how much she loved this new dynamic, this sense of dominance and control. She thought about how she would need to buy some items for him, to help him feel more comfortable and secure in his new role. As she gazed at Greg, she knew that their relationship was about to take a dramatic turn, one that would bring them even closer together. Chapter 3: Morning After Greg woke up to an empty bed, his thumb still lodged in his mouth. As he slowly came to, the events of the previous night flooded back to him. He quickly removed his thumb, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relaxation. He had slept better than he remembered, but the memory of his actions made his face flush with heat. As he sat up, he noticed the dampness between his legs and the slight cold wetness on the bed underneath his crotch, from his "accident" the night before. His embarrassment deepened, and he couldn't help but think about Sam's statement from the night before - "someone might need a little protection next time." He wondered why she had said that, especially since they hadn't used condoms since before they were married. Greg quickly got out of bed and headed to the shower, trying to wash away the lingering feelings of embarrassment. As he stood under the warm water, he couldn't shake off the thought of Sam's words and the way she had looked at him. He felt like he was losing himself in this new dynamic, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. After his shower, Greg made his way to the kitchen, where he found Sam already preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation. As he entered the kitchen, Sam turned around with a bright smile, holding up a plate of Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chips. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I made your favorite breakfast." Greg's eyes widened as he took in the spread before him. "Wow, you didn't have to go to all that trouble," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sam chuckled and handed him a glass of milk. "I know what my baby likes," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "And I want to make him happy." Greg's face flushed as he took the glass, noticing that Sam had made herself a more adult breakfast - scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, and fruit. "You're not having pancakes?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from himself. Sam smiled and sat down across from him. "No, I think I'll stick to something a bit more... substantial," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, I know what my baby really likes, and it's not just pancakes." He could tell she was insinuating about the night before. As they ate, Sam couldn't help but tease Greg about his sleepiness. "You were so cute when you were sleeping," she cooed, her voice dripping with affection. "I loved watching you. And I have to say, I was a bit surprised by your... little accident." Greg's face turned bright red as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. "Shh, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to change the subject. But Sam just laughed and reached out to run her thumb across the table over his lips. "It's okay, baby," she said. "It's nice to see you relaxing in new ways." Greg stared at her quizzically wondering why she was doing this? He could see the joy in her eyes. Sam looked at him and mocked putting her thumb in her mouth with fake sucking noise from her pursed lips, and a pouty face, and batted her eyes. Then laughed and winked at him. "You're learning to let go baby, and that's all that matters." Greg felt like he was going to die from embarrassment. He tried to change the subject again, but in his embarrassed haste, he accidentally knocked over his glass of milk, spilling it all over his lap. Sam rushed over to clean up the mess, laughing and reassuring him that it was okay. "Accidents keep happening, don't they?" she said with a wink. "Maybe you're not ready for a big boy cup yet." Greg's face was on fire as he sat there, his pants stained with milk. He felt like a child, and Sam's words only made him feel more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam," he muttered, trying to apologize. But Sam just smiled and patted his hand. "Don't worry, baby," she said. "I'll figure it out. I'll help you get back into dry pants." Her phrasing made him blush for some reason. As they finished their breakfast, Greg couldn't help but think about how different Sam had been treating him lately. She was more playful, more affectionate, and more... dominant. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this new dynamic, but a part of him was excited to see where it would lead. As they finished their meal, Sam leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was thinking about how to push her plan to the next level, how to help Greg surrender to his desires and become the submissive partner she knew he could be. And as she looked at him, she smiled to herself, knowing that she had already made significant progress. The question was, how far would he be willing to go? Chapter 4: Surrender A few days had passed since Sam had received the mysterious packages, and Greg had no idea what was in store for him. That night, as they sat on the couch watching the fire, Sam was wearing a luxurious silk bathrobe, while Greg was dressed in a pair of childish pajamas that seemed to foreshadow the events that were about to unfold. They had shared a couple of glasses of wine, and the conversation had slowed down, with Greg eventually laying his head down on Sam's lap. As the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Sam's lap washed over him, Greg felt his eyelids growing heavy. But Sam had other plans. She slowly began to work his hand towards his mouth, her fingers gently guiding his. Greg resisted at first, knowing what she was trying to do, but Sam was insistent. She rubbed his crotch through his pajamas, the touch waking him up with arousal. "Come on, baby," she whispered, her voice trying to stay calm but loaded with desire. "Just relax. It's okay." Greg tried to hold strong, but a part of him wanted to give in. He was torn between his desire to surrender and his fear of what this meant for their relationship. As he looked up at Sam, he saw the determination in her eyes, and he knew he was no match for her. Tears began to form in his eyes as he felt himself weakening. Sam's fingers were like a gentle vice, guiding his hand towards his mouth. He shook his head, trying to resist, but Sam just nodded hers, her eyes locked onto his. "It's okay, baby," she cooed. "Everything will be alright. Just trust me." With a sob, Greg gave in, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Instantly, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him, as if he had finally surrendered to a desire he had been fighting for so long. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "You're so good, baby," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you." As Greg sucked his thumb, Sam maneuvered his head into her crotch, her silk bathrobe parting to reveal her nakedness. Greg's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't wearing any panties, and his face burned with embarrassment. Sam's pushed off the couch so he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, her hands guided his head, pushing him into her extremely wet crotch, her pussy pressing against the back of his hand. For minutes, Greg sucked his thumb, his body frozen in a mix of shame and desire. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "Do you want to taste it, good boy?" she asked, her voice husky with desire. Greg looked up at her, his eyes sad and tear-filled. He nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. Sam's fingers guided his thumb into her vagina, pulling it out and letting him suck again. She repeated this process several times, each time pushing Greg further into his submission. Finally, she let him eat her out, his mouth sucking away at her pussy as she came in a huge orgasm. Greg's face was buried in her crotch, she returned his thumb to his mouth as, as he felt her body shudder with pleasure. When she was done, Sam leaned back, her chest heaving with exertion. "Are you ready for yours, baby?" she asked, her voice seemed to gain new excitement. Greg looked up at her, his eyes still sad, but he nodded. Sam smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. Sam sounding like a child on Christmas morning said, "I bought something for you! I've noticed how you've been deciding to relax, I think this will help you." She pulled out a large white pacifier, an exact replica of a babies binky but bigger, from her pocket, and Greg's eyes widened in shock. "No, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to reject it. But Sam just shook her head and made an "Ssh" sign over her mouth. He looked in awe as she moved the binky down between her legs and pressed the pacifier into her pussy coating it with her juices. She quickly forced it in Greg's mouth. He tried to resist with his lips, but she persisted and cooed, "Be my good boy for me baby. Make me happy seeing you relax." Greg didn't know what to do and finally accepted it with a pouty look. He immediately started sucking the same as his thumb he was now used to. his face red and mind reeling with embarrassment and shame, the familiar taste of her juices calmed him. Sam led him to the bedroom, stripping him down as they went. "My baby seems more excited than ever," she cooed, her eyes glinting with amusement. Greg was ready for intercourse, but instead, Sam went to the closet and pulled out a pair of childish underpants with designs on them. He couldn't believe there was more to this. When had she bought these things? How long had she been planning this? Greg's embarrassment had never been higher, and he felt like he was going to cry looking at the garmet. "I don't want any accidents, baby," Sam said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You need to wear these to protect yourself." "No sam, this is too much" he tried to say from behind the pacifier, weakly attempting to stand. She pushed him back down, readjusting the pacifier and said. "Please baby, you need this, just enjoy yourself." He could tell from her voice how much she wanted him to follow through... he laid back consenting. She couldn't believe it, her heart raced with the realization that he would allow this. Greg's face burned with shame as Sam pulled the underwear up, the fabric feeling different, more padded than normal underwear. He had a new shock realizing that these were like the potty training underwear kids wear, designed for people who can't make it to a toilet. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red. Sam rubbed his crotch, her fingers sending shivers down his spine. "You're such a good boy," she cooed. "I'm so proud of you." It only took seconds for Greg to come in his pants, the sensation of the underwear and Sam's touch sending him over the edge. Sam praised him, her voice whispering words of encouragement as she laid with him, holding him close. Greg feeling extremely tired now, moved to pull out the pacifier. Sam brushed his hand away and spooned with him, she moved her hand up to the binky gently holding it in place. Greg glanced at her realizing he wanted him to keep it in. He was too tired to think through her intentions or put up any fight and his eyelids drooped. As Greg fell asleep, the pacifier still in his mouth, rhythmically sucking, Sam thought about how amazing this felt. She had never felt so in control, so dominant. And as she looked at Greg, she knew that she could go further, push him even deeper into his submission. The question was, how far would he be willing to go?

Chapter 1: Bad Management The full moon cast its silvery glow over the city, illuminating the darkened streets and casting an air of mystique over the strip clubs that lined them. It was a night like any other at "Little Miracles Gentlemen's Club," but for Maya, it was about to become one she would never forget. As she prepared for her shift, Maya couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness, a feeling that had been building inside her all week. It all started a few weeks back. She started noticing that some of the other girls were getting more tips than her. They all had one thing in common. Their boobs were at least two cup sizes bigger than hers. Their bras would get all padded up but with dollar bills instead of tissue paper. Frustrated, Maya started looking into some options outside of surgery that might help. She knew Halloween was coming up soon, and there's no better time of the year for something magical to happen, especially after hearing about a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event happening where the Earth was going to have two moons for the month of October. If magic was real, then this had to be the time to try it. Maya took some time researching different spell books and manuscripts in her free time in between classes at the local university. Everything she found seemed foolish and like it wouldn't work, but there was one spell. One ritual that came up more than any other. She hated the idea of doing it, but it was worth a shot; what was the worst that could happen? Feel like an idiot for a few days, and end up exactly where she is, with modest B sized breasts. Reluctantly, Maya collected everything she needed and proceeded to recite the incantation each day before she had to go to her shift, hoping that by the time she got there, her boobs would be big enough to steal the show for the night. She had only managed to try the spell for two days, with nothing to show for it. She hoped tonight would be different. It was her third try; the moon was full, and that second moon was clearly visible in the night sky. The only problem was that she was running late. She had fallen asleep while studying for her next test and hadn’t realized how much time had passed. In a frantic panic, Maya ran to her bathroom and quickly threw off her shirt. She wanted to examine her breasts to see if there had been any change, but she had no time. “Shit! How did I let this happen?” She ripped off her bra, grabbed the large jar on her counter, and proceeded to smother her boobs in the slimy substance. “This is so gross.” She grimaced. Even using this stuff the last two days didn't help prepare her for it today. Keeping it at room temperature made her skin want to crawl as the coolness touched her sensitive areas. Regardless of her feelings, she had no time to waste. Maya grabbed her cheap throwaway bra and threw on a baggy sweatshirt. Just because she worked at a strip club didn’t mean she was going to wear a party dress to work—anything to get less attention from potential creeps on her way to, or from work. She ran down her shared apartment stairs to get in her beat-up car. Even though it was old, it was reliable. "Please let it work tonight. I really need this. Tuition is due next week." Maya sped down the street roads, keeping her eyes on a close lookout for any cops. The last thing she needed was a speeding ticket or some sort of traffic violation. Even though she had a nice ass, that wasn't about to do her any good if she got pulled over. If she at least had a nice rack, she might be able to get away with a warning, but not in her current state. She was in a sweatshirt and had stuff all over them. At best, they might let her off out of pity. Luckily, she was able to get to the club without issues. Maya was grateful she managed to make it here without further delay and was only two minutes late for clocking in. She grabbed her purse, and was about to beline it into the club, when she saw herself in the rearview mirror. She still had to cast the spell if the enlargement was going to work. "Fuck!" She was already late, but not casting the spell would have meant she smothered her boobs for no reason. Begrudgingly, she pulled out her phone and went to the notes app, where she had the spell written out. She took a deep breath, hoping this would work, and began reading it out loud. If she were lucky, maybe they would grow in the middle of the show and get the boys all worked up. "By moonlight's gentle glow, I call upon the power of the goddess. Milk of the Moon, flow into my breasts, Attracting nourishment and growth with every kiss. Honey of Attraction, sweeten my form, Drawing love and beauty to my heart's core. Essence of Goddess, infuse me with your might, Breast Nourishment Powder, make me a beautiful sight." Maya looked at herself in the rearview mirror again and smiled at herself. "Here goes nothing." Even through all the stress of being late, she knew she was going to give the boys the best show that night. At the bare least, she would get any newbies drilling over her ass. She got out of her car, and ran over to the door. "Hey, Frank." She greeted the bouncer. "You're late. I was beginning to worry." the tall man stood at the door, opening it for her to enter. "Sorry about that; fell asleep studying." Maya had always appreciated Frank. He was intimidating, but to her and the rest of the girls, he was like a giant teddy bear. "You got this kid. But I can't keep covering for you. You can tell Dameon that you got caught by a creeper and needed a hand." Frank had been covering for Maya for the last few weeks. He knew Maya was struggling with finals coming up and that the final payment would be required soon. Anyone would. But he couldn't fault the girl. She was trying to do something with her future, and this job was just a means to an end. "Thanks." Maya blushed, rushing into the club. She liked Frank like a big brother, but any time he called her "kid" or "kiddo" it made her feel like she was his little sister. She knew she was an adult, and could manage on her own, but with the stress of everything, she really had doubts some days. Finally, in the back room, Maya wasted no time clocking in, throwing off her clothes, and getting ready. She noticed on the schedule next to the punch-in clock that her name was on the board. She had a lap dance scheduled in the next ten minutes. She couldn't believe Dameon would allow one to get put on the schedule within fifteen minutes of her shift starting. It almost felt like he wanted her to lose a regular. "You know that stuff isn't going to work, right? Why are you still bothering with it, it looks, and smells disgusting." Sunny retorted, looking at Maya's smothered breasts. "Nice to see you too, Sunny." Maya knew she was only poking fun, even if it was a little hurtful. Sunny's breasts were easily a D, which meant Maya stood no chance of getting extra tips tonight. Not if Sunny's breasts were going out before her, and having a lap dance first thing meant her fate was sealed. Maya removed her old bra, tossing it in the trash, knowing that if it didn't work tonight, it wasn't going to work. She reached over for the pack of baby wipes the dancers shared for cleaning up in between shows, wiping away the ointment she laid on her breasts before leaving. She then found the costume she usually wore for lap dances and dawned it. A red lacy pushup bra, anything to help make her breasts more perky, and a red matching thong. She hoped that Marcus brought plenty of spare cash tonight. Stepping behind the curtain to enter the private rooms, Maya was stunned by what she saw. It wasn't Marcus—no, it was a woman. She wore a full-length dress colored in dark gray and lifeless hues. "I take it you are Maya. The slut who's been stealing my husband." The woman angrily pointed her finger in an accusative manner. Maya stood stunned. She wasn't expecting tonight to go like this. "Well! What do you have to say for yourself? Do you know you are ruining families?" Even though the woman was angry, Maya couldn't feel too intimidated by her; she was easily six to eight inches shorter than her. "Listen, lady, I don't even know who you are." "I'm Marcus's wife. I bet you didn't even know he was married, did you?" "Plenty of guys that come in here are married." Maya couldn't help herself by crossing her arms over her breasts. She couldn't believe this woman had the nerve to yell at her like this. Practically naked, in just her underwear, with nothing to cover herself. The whole thing made her feel small, even if she knew she was physically bigger. "So you admit it, you know you are ruining marriages." The woman leaned back on her heels. It was clear to see that this woman thought she was in the right. "I never said that." "Why don't you get a real job? All you are doing is taking advantage of these men and their families." "Listen, I'm just trying to get through school." Maya knew that doing this kind of work was frowned upon by many and that it made her an easy target. If she had a better way to make what she was here while still accommodating her class schedule, she would have looked at doing that instead. But there was no way. This was her only option. "So you beg these men for money? You can't take care of yourself like a big girl, so you come crawling to other wives' husbands for money instead." "What are you talking about? These men pay us for a show. That's exactly what we give them." Maya always hated it when people assumed things about her or judged her in her line of work. It's not like she was a hooker or a drug dealer. She never had sex with any of them, and if they even tried to touch her, they got kicked out and were banned. Frank was always good about that. "No. You crawl and beg like a baby. Someone who can't care for themselves." The woman pulled out a stack of papers from her purse, which she had brought. "You're the reason he keeps coming here. Seven times in 30 days!" "Lady, I didn't give your husband a lap dance seven times this month. It's not me." Maya could hear the showroom floor starting to get a little rowdy. She knew she wasn't up yet, but it was clear that someone else was running behind, at least based on the chatter that started. "Oh yeah, let's see." She folded over the sheet of paper with a list of transactions on it. "September 25th, Little Miracles," she ran her finger across the paper. "September 30th, Little Miracles." Maya could hear more clearly now what was happening out in the showroom. The boys were chanting. "Little Miracles!" They were either getting really impatient, or someone else was about to get the bulk of the tips tonight. "Now we are here again on October 1st, Little Miracles." "I didn't see him yesterday! I haven't even seen him today; instead, I'm in here with you." Maya was annoyed. She couldn't believe Dameon let this happen. Maya stormed out of the private room. She was going to give Dameon a piece of her mind. She wasn't about to stand there and continue to get nagged at by this judgmental woman. But as she stepped out of the room, she saw that everyone was silent. No one was moving; it was like they were all frozen. Even the bartender looked stunned. Unsure what was happening, Maya started looking around the room until she saw it. A purple swirling light was on the stage. "What the fuck is that" Maya felt her mouth drop open. She had never seen anything like that before. The closest thing was from some of the spell books she looked through. She thought the whole magic thing was a fake. Her boobs never got any bigger, yet, here it is. Magic. She stared in awe as a witch hat slowly started to arise from out of the purple swirl.

Looking to do a fnaf diaper RP need a cg/dom who is ok with spanking and breastfeeding

To explain first and foremost, this isn't my world; you can thank the creative and talented @Panther Cub for this idea that we (and by we, I mean mostly him) hashed out recently, and this story is me trying to combine two RP elements that he came up with. He could probably make a story that best fits both; it was his awesome idea after all, but the crux of it is this: a world where a deity (unknown as of yet) gifts children caregiver powers over certain adults in their lives for amusement, with real-world Avatars (this one being an immortal Greco-Roman woman who has all of the signs of recent birth) delegating powers to children for their patron deity's amusement and sometimes interfering directly when indirect means won't work. The immortal mother "reenergizes" her powers via the emotions gathered at places called "Bright New Beginnings": abandoned daycares all across the English-speaking world with the ghosts of caretakers that lure in young people to regress. This combines them both, and I will apologize to Panther in advance if it's not quite right. As this is babyfur, if you don't feel like reading, you don't have to. This is a lot softer than most of my other works as well, so feel free to read or not read based on that. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Anyway, let's get to the story, shall we? - Chapter One - It was a typical weekday spring morning in the suburbs of Newaardvark, New Jersey, a heavy rain pouring from the sky, as the animals stayed inside for the most part. There was only one exception: a young woman who sat on a bench under a bus stop station, unmoving, her eyes closed as if in thought. To describe her depended on the creature in question, for she took the shape of whomever was staring at her, a beautiful eighteen-year-old female of the beholder's specie in a long, sleeveless white dress, almost Greco-Roman in design, her breasts enormous, lactating, and protruding through her nursing bra like twin towers. Her shoes were white stilettos that covered her feet entirely, covered in mysterious symbols. She shouldered a plain, yet large diaper bag as easily as one would carry a blanket. Overall, she looked like a recent teen mom dressed for a Greek reenactment party. She was on the hunt, not even needing to look as she sensed her targets: a young bird couple in their late twenties and their adopted daughters below the age of ten. She preferred to use children as conduits through her strength, mostly playing through their mischief, willingness to be troublemakers towards authority, or, in too many sad cases, victims of abuse or neglect. Not these children: they were well-behaved young girls, treated with the utmost kindness and love by both hard working parents. She would have to work directly. Iuvenis Mater did not know if that was one of her favorite things to do, but it would make the game with her patron deity more…interesting. That was what their deity cared about, in the end: the Hunt to turn normal adults into little babies, albeit temporarily, for amusement. And there was definitely cause for amusement when it came to both of the parents. Erik Hellstrom was a handsome golden pheasant, twenty-eight, a skilled engineer who worked from home to support his daughters. Oh, she’d have fun with him, especially with his hidden…issues when it came to family. And then there was Gaiana Hellstrom, his wife. Twenty-seven, quite a stunningly beautiful blue-and-yellow macaw, working long shifts as a firefighter, but embarrassed by her past when she was a child. Another extremely fun target that she could work with. Their adopted daughters were the key in the door: Gaiana was planning on having a celebration party at the fire station alongside her peers with Erik joining her, and the girls needed a babysitter. Well, more than just the girls would need a babysitter after today. It had been a simple matter, even with the oddities of the modern age. This “Internet”, in particular, had been a long time spent learning for Iuvenis, but now that she knew, she was capable when it came to the worldwide Web. Quite frankly, it might’ve been even easier searching for targets via the Internet than it was in the olden days. A simple matter of the other typical babysitters gaining new things to do or new places to go all of a sudden, a bit of reality warping to make her seem like she was the only other babysitter available in the area, things like that were simple, including two typical babysitters who seemed…interesting in their own right. The Hunt, on the other paw? Not as much. Her patron deity needed to be entertained, not just for these temporary three days, but for a lifetime, to make it amusing to watch. One never knew how a Hunt would end, merely how it began - and the Avatar of her deity would make sure that they had plenty of amusement with this one. And so this Hunt began as she got up from the bus station and walked over to their house. - Erik preened himself in the mirror, looking at his appearance. The people at the fire station didn’t really care for appearance, true, but he always tried to dress to impress, like his uncle taught him: a full-sleeved white polo shirt, black slacks, black dress shoes, his father’s silver watch on his left wing, his mother’s handkerchief in the dress pocket of his shirt, a polished pair of glasses perched on his beak. He fluttered over to his wife, dressed extremely casually with a simple white T-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers, and her own horn-rimmed glasses on her beak, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Hey, honey,” Erik crooned in a pleasant song, as he gently wrapped his wings around her. “Hey, baby,” Gaiana whispered back with a grin, returning the kiss. “The girls prepared for their babysitter?” “I’ve let them know that there’s a new babysitter,” the pheasant said, his feathers fluffed up in pride. “They’ve taken it surprisingly well. It’s a shame that the Boggs sisters are going through college applications; they were the best of babysitters…” “Well, that’s life, honey; we all grow up,” the female macaw answered. “We grow old, not necessarily up.” “And both are technically true.” “Two different words.” “Ah, semantics.” The two birds kissed again, their love for one another showing through the slight teasing, before they fluttered down the stairs, looking for their girls, who were likely playing Aliemon Orange and Purple on their GameMales, judging by the sounds of the arguing. The games were two of the most kid-friendly ones they could buy for them with the limited money they made on Christmas. “OH, come on, Tali; you know that the mind type beats everything! Play as something else!” “It’s not my fault that Avadakazam is cute as heck, as well as powerful!” “It’s not! It’s literally a green orc with a big head and huge beard, and you had to trade with me to get it!” “Excuse me, Avadakazam is my favorite Aliemon, and I will brook no argu-” “Goostoise is the cutest!” “Avadakazam!” “Goostoise!” “Avadakazam!” “Goostoise!” “Girls, girls, both Avadakazam and Goostoise are equally cute,” Erik said, defusing the argument by hugging the two young girl birds, a brown pelican and a scaled quail. “Whatever, Goostoise is still cuter,” the younger quail, Zita, grumbled. “Avadakazam,” the brown pelican, Talita - known to all as “Tali” - said with a smirk, to which Zita responded with her tongue sticking out. Gaiana gave them both a stern look, but it belied the smile on her face. “Are you two going to behave for the new babysitter?” “Yes, Mom!” the two girls chorused. “You’ll do your homework and everything?” Erik asked gently; he didn’t have it in him to be stern. “Of course, Dad!” they chorused again. The doorbell rang, and Erik got it while Gaiana talked to the girls further, seeing an eighteen-year-old golden pheasant in a long, sleeveless white dress smiling at him, a diaper bag hefted over her shoulders. Her breasts were enormous, and demanded attention, but the analytical pheasant merely noted them as being slightly larger for what seemed like a teenage mom; he took his marriage vows very seriously, more seriously than a lot of men. “Hello, Mr. Hellstrom,” she said politely, holding out a feathered wing for him to shake. “Good morning, Miss, um…what’s your name again, ma’am?” he asked, shaking her wing. She smiled mischievously. “I’m Miss Ivi Mater. You can call me ‘Mater’, though, little Eri.” “Huh…okay…Ivi…” The pheasant felt himself grow smaller in her presence, a wet spot quickly growing around his slacks, as he began to unconsciously drool. “Oh, dear, looks like we’ll need to go to this earlier than I expected,” Ivi said cheerfully, getting out a white fluffy…thing from her bag. The word was escaping Erik’s quickly diminishing vocabulary, but it seemed oddly…familiar in a way. He felt his shirt, his shoes, his drenched boxers and slacks being taken off him by the girl, and even though his mind was inwardly screaming for his wife to intervene, he continued to lay on the floor in a docile manner. And then he saw her go through her bag, sprinkling powder over his nether parts, raising his bottom, and slipping the thing under him, taping up both sides, threading his tail feathers through the back, with the odd teenager moving him as if he had been much smaller than her. The pheasant’s mind was still there, and a part of him was telling himself that something was very, very wrong, but he couldn’t imagine what it could possibly be. Then his wife’s voice echoed. “Oh, Eri? Where did my baby Eri go?” “Here, my dear!” he sang, only for dread to grow when his wife’s frame entered the scene. “Oh, Eri, you little stinkypants, you know you’re not allowed to sneak out of your playpen,” Gaiana said, nuzzling the pheasant, acting like he was much smaller than her. He froze. He was a lot bigger than his wife. For her to think he towered over him meant… No, this can’t be right. Think logically, Erik, these things don’t happen in real life. “You’ve already got a fresh diaper on him! You came prepared for my little baby boy!” Gaiana cooed, handing him back to the pheasant woman, the… “He is certainly going to grow up to be handsome, will he not?” Ivi said with a knowing smile, and he began to fuss. “Oh, he misses his Mommy already.” The female pheasant came close, allowing Gaiana to cuddle with him. “It’s going to be okay, Eri. Mommy’s just got to go for a short bit.” He froze. Those words. A short bit. That was what his parents had said. That’s when- He began to bawl, thinking of the worst night of his life. No, no, no, no, no! Please, God, please, don’t let her leave! Not now! I need her, I need Mommy! Then he saw his daughters, rubbing his feathered head, and singing nursery rhymes to him to calm him down, and he realized the horrible truth. Everyone thinks I’m a baby! My daughters think I’m their baby brother! Oh, God, why?! Erik desperately tried to convince his wife that she was still his wife. He tried to speak to his daughters, tried to get out any code he could. They just cooed at him, as if he was an infant. “Oh, he’s trying to talk!” Zita said excitedly. “Say ‘Sissy’!” “Oh, honey, it might be a bit early for that,” Gaiana said to the disappointed quail. “He’ll be old enough for talkies and flighties soon, but he’s still too young for that at the moment.” Erik then saw the watch - his father’s watch wrapped in his mother's handkerchief - in the older female pheasant’s wing, and he attempted to grab at it with his feathers. “No, you’re a little too young for that; we don’t want you putting this in your mouth and swallowing,” the female pheasant cooed, putting the watch and handkerchief out of his reach and into the diaper bag as he whimpered. “Here! I have something better for you!” She brought out a light gold pacifier, teasing him with the tip, until he instinctively grabbed at it with his feathers and began to suckle on it, his inner adult feeling horrified dread at how easily it soothed his terrified thoughts, but the baby that dominated the main part of his brain reacting as if it was as natural as breathing. “Good job, Eri!” Gaiana cooed at the confused bird. “Now I really do have to go, but I’ll be back before you know it!” All the pheasant could do was suck on his pacifier, feeling a trickle of liquid warmth flow through the front of his (surprisingly comfy) diaper, his mind feeling horror that his body didn’t feel, before his wife - the last bastion of hope of stopping this intruder from potentially hurting his daughters - leave out the door, enter the car, and drive away. - Hope you enjoyed~

Cody enters his room after getting back from a halloween party to see it filled wuth his sisters dollies and babyish stuff. "SARAH I told you to stop leaving your stupid baby stuff in my room. Like I get you like playing house with your little dollies but play your little dumb baby game in your room" Cody yells. Sarah leaves the room upset and mad at her brother. She enters her room and then goes to the window. The moon was full on halloween night. She then makes a wish "I wish my brother could get a taught a lesson and experience how fun playing house can be!" As Sarah went to sleep and as Cody is starting to clean his room. Some force pushes him over. Then feels a hand pulling his pants down and giving him a huge wedgie. "Owww quit it Sarah that's not funny. You'll be so sorry after I get you back" Cody yells. Cody soon turns around and soon discovers its not Sarah. It's one of her dollies that seem to have grown to about his height smiling down at him. The doll then speaks "you really should not yell at your sister. You been a bad boy and your going to be taught a lesson you soon will never forgot" The doll snaps her fingers and a bunch of other dollies appear and push him to the ground and pin him on the ground. The big dolly laughs "so you think your sister is such a big baby for liking dollies and playing house? Well I think it's time you experience first time the joy of playing house and guess who's going to be the baby". Cody thought he was dreaming but he wasn't. "Please let me go. I promise il be better towards my sister!" The dollies ignore his plead then start stripping him butt naked. The dolly then speaks "Wow you sure do have a small wee wee and you won't be needing to play with it anymore so let's fix that" the dolly then grabs a pink chastity cage and puts it around Cody's wee wee. "Come on please you can't do this. You can't lock it up." Cody whines. The dolly laughs "if your a good boy maybe you'll get play time but now we need to put your diaper on before you have any accidents" Cody eyes widened "no way I'm not being your dumb little baby you can't...." then a pacifier gers popped into his mouth and can't spit it out. "Now now baby don't fuss all babies need there diapers" The dolly then snaps it fingers and a huge thick diaper appears. This diaper was different it moved and acted like a alive monster. It quickly ran over and then wrapped itself around Cody's waist and then tapped itself shut. "Much better now its time to feed the baby" the dolly says. Just then a highchair appears and the dolly carries Cody to it and takes out the pacifier. The dolly then grabs yucky baby food "open up sweetie it's feeding time". Cody tries to close just mouth but the dolly plugs his nose and gets a fully mouthful of goop in his mouth. She feeds him 4 packs of baby food. She then takes him and lays him across his lap then feeds him a warm bottle of milk. Just then Cody releases a huge fart *pfft* "My my I think baby needs to go poopy. Well go on use your diaper mister" the dolly giggles. Cody yells "no way I'm using this diaper you can't make me" Just then the diaper attached to him starts to squeeze in onto his stomach making it hard to hold in his poop. Unfortunately he couldn't hold it anymore and made a huge mush of poop in his diaper. "Peeyeww what a stinker looks like you need to be kept in diapers. How about a ride on the stink train" The dolly grabs him and bounces Cody on her knee mushing all his poopy all over. Cody disgusted couldn't believe he was treated like this. The dolly laughed "Ok time for your diaper change" the dolly puts him on the changing table and starts to undo the tapes. "Wheew somebody made a big present in his diaper" the dolly laughed again. Cody blushed but it was way better then staying in it. The dolly then takes off his cage and says "how about some fun since you been such a good boy". The new diaper she put underneath him formed a tounge from the inside and wrapped around his dick. Then it started to rub up and down its slimy tongue. The dolly the revealed her boobs and had Cody suck her booby milk "thats right Cody drink your mommys milk and make milky in your diaper" the doll smiled. The dolly then placed its hand in lube then stuck its finger up his butt. Cody couldn't help it. It felt so good. "That's it make milky for mommy" the dolly smiled. Then Cody blasted a full bunch of cum into the diaper and the diaper licked it up. "Such a good boy but you made a bit of a huge mess in your diaper. Time for a spanking" The dolly places him over his knee and spanks his bottom red. After his spanking the dolly puts him in a crib then gives him milk and he falls fast asleep. The next morning a flash of light wakes him up. His sister Sarah had her phone taking pics of him. "Oh my gosh baby bro you look so cute. I didn't know you liking acting like a baby" Cody protested "no Sarah its not what you think. Your dolly came alive and put me in this. Please delete the pics" Sarah then smiled "what a overactive imagination you have but sorry your just too cute and it's going to be fun having my own baby brother to play house with. If you don't play il send the pics I took to everybody you know. So better play along"

Chapter 1 Abby stumbled through the dense woods, following a faint trail that led her to a dilapidated house. Its wooden shutters hung loosely on rusted hinges, its roof sagging and covered in green moss. She hesitantly stepped closer, her eyes scanning the peeling paint and broken windows. Despite its appearance, the house seemed to call out to her, a glimmer of hope in the dark forest. “God what am I doing out here I know this is on the far end of the property, but I have no idea why it’s even here, it wasn’t even listed on the land plot, and I can’t find any record of this place.” Abby thought out loud. Abby's heart raced as she approached the weathered porch, its boards creaking beneath her feet. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her, its gaze piercing through the shadows of the surrounding trees. Her small frame shivered, not from the cool forest air, but from a sense of unease that crept along her spine. She reached for the tarnished doorknob, her hand trembling. As her fingers brushed against the cold metal, a whisper seemed to float on the breeze, incomprehensible yet somehow familiar. Abby froze, straining her ears to catch the sound again, but only silence greeted her. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, trying to steady her nerves. "It's just an old house. There's nothing to be afraid of." But as she turned the knob, a soft click echoing through the stillness The door swung open with a haunting creak, revealing a musty interior shrouded in shadows. Abby hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the grimy windows. Dust motes danced in the air, stirred by her entrance, and the floorboards groaned beneath her feet. She moved cautiously through the front room, her gaze sweeping over faded wallpaper and tattered furniture. An ornate mirror hung crookedly on one wall, its silver surface tarnished and clouded with age. Abby caught a glimpse of her reflection, her thin face pale and eyes wide with apprehension. As she explored further, she discovered a narrow staircase leading to the upper floor. Each step seemed to whisper secrets as she ascended, her hand trailing along the weathered banister. The upper landing stretched before her. She comes to the top and notices a bright pink door on one side of the room, she slowly walks over to it her Curiosity overwhelming her. Abby approached the bright pink door, its vibrant hue a stark contrast to the rest of the house's muted decay. Her hand hovered over the tarnished brass knob, hesitating for a moment before grasping it firmly. With a deep breath, she turned the handle and pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak that echoed through the empty hallway. As the door swung wide, Abby's eyes widened in surprise. Before her lay a nursery, frozen in time like a faded photograph. Soft, muted light filtered through a dusty window, casting long shadows across the room. The walls, once a cheerful yellow, were now peeling and stained with age. Faded circus animals danced along a tattered border, their painted smiles eerie in the dim light. In the corner stood a white wooden crib, its paint chipped and flaking and falling off to the other side an old toy chest seemingly filled with toys and the like. She looks around but can’t find anything she would want in here, so she slowly backs out of the room and leaves the door behind her letting the room be lost to time forever. “Ok enough of that this is already creepy enough I don’t wanna be in here any long time to gtfo.” She hurries as fast as she can down the stairs and to the main room, she does one more look around before she heads out the front door closing it behind her. She stops quickly and looks around, everything around her looks different and flat. She remembers there being woods everywhere but now it’s all flat land, she quickly turns around to grab the doorknob and the door and house are gone, she’s all alone in the middle of nowhere and has no idea where she is at. Abby's heart pounded in her chest as she spun around, her eyes desperately scanning the barren landscape. Where once stood a dense forest now stretched an endless expanse of featureless, sunbaked earth. The sudden transformation of her surroundings sent her mind reeling, unable to process the impossible change. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she stumbled forward, her legs weak and unsteady. The air felt thick and oppressive, pressing down on her like a physical weight. The sky above her, once a patchwork of leaves and branches, now loomed vast and empty, a pale, sickly yellow that seemed to pulse and writhe. Panic clawed at her throat as she tried to call out for help, but her voice emerged as little more than a strangled whimper. The silence that enveloped her was absolute, broken only by the sound of her heart. As Abby's initial panic began to subside, her racing thoughts slowly coalesced into a singular, urgent realization: she needed to find shelter. The oppressive heat of the barren landscape beat down upon her, and she could feel her skin beginning to prickle with the first signs of sunburn. With no landmarks to guide her, she made an arbitrary decision to head east, hoping that direction might lead her to salvation. She set off across the desolate plain, her feet sinking slightly into the parched earth with each step. The horizon shimmered in the distance, a mirage-like wavering that made it impossible to discern where the land ended, and the sky began. As she walked, Abby noticed strange plants and trees after a while, and she saw birds bigger than she could ever believe. “What the hell is going on? Why are the birds so freaking huge?!?! And holy shit! Is that a squirrel it’s massive.” Abby ventured deeper into the bizarre landscape; her senses overwhelmed by the strange sights surrounding her. The trees towered impossibly high, their trunks as wide as houses and their leaves the size of cars. Vines as thick as her arm snaked across the forest floor, their tendrils reaching out as if trying to grasp her ankles. As she pushed through the dense undergrowth, a rustling sound caught her attention. She froze, her eyes widening as a rabbit the size of a medium sized dog hopped into view. Its long ears twitched, each one nearly as tall as Abby herself. The creature's nose quivered as it sniffed the air, its whiskers swaying like thick ropes. Abby held her breath, afraid to move. The giant rabbit's eyes, each as big as her fist, locked onto her for a moment before it bounded away. Abby breathed a sigh of relief and kept on walking her journey long and hard before she finally found a small cave underneath a large tree that she could stop and rest in. She looked down at herself, happy she had worn sweatpants and a shirt with a hoodie over it, thinking it was one of the smartest ideas she had ever had now. She pulled her knees close to her and pulled the hoodie over them to try and keep as warm as possible knowing it was getting dark and would soon cool off, she just hoped she could survive the night at this point As night fell, the alien forest came alive with a symphony of unfamiliar sounds. Eerie whistles and low, rumbling calls echoed through the darkness, punctuated by the occasional rustle of massive leaves. Abby huddled deeper into her makeshift shelter, her body trembling from a mixture of cold and fear. Eventually, exhaustion overcame her anxiety, and she drifted into a fitful sleep. When dawn broke, shafts of golden light filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Abby stirred, her eyes fluttering open to a world transformed by the morning sun. She attempted to stretch but winced as pain shot through her body. Every muscle ached, a testament to her arduous journey the day before and her uncomfortable sleeping position. Despite the discomfort, a wave of relief washed over her. She had survived the night and was alive. Abby slowly rose to her feet, her joints creaking in protest. She stepped out of the cave, blinking in the dazzling morning light. The forest around her seemed even more vibrant and otherworldly in the golden glow of dawn. Massive flowers, their petals as large as dinner plates, unfurled to greet the sun. Dew droplets the size of marbles clung to blades of grass that towered over her head. Determined to find water, Abby set off through the undergrowth. She pushed aside ferns with leaves broader than her entire body, their delicate fronds tickling her face as she passed. The air was thick with the heady scent of unknown blossoms and rich, loamy earth. As she walked, Abby noticed strange, iridescent insects flitting between the enormous plants. Their wings shimmered with colors she had never seen before in her life. After walking for hours Abby could hear water in the distance and grew excited, she started running at full speed, reaching a small stream she got down on her knees and started drinking the water by the handful. “Well, that’s water solved but I’m starving and need to find something to eat soon or I’m going to have more than one problem.” Abby took off her clothes and got in the water for a small swim and to pee, knowing it would just go downstream she knew that she had to head that way after she was done. Refreshed by her swim, Abby reluctantly climbed out of the cool stream. She wrung out her long hair and slipped back into her clothes, grateful for their familiar comfort in this strange world. As she laced up her shoes, she took a moment to marvel at the scene around her. The stream gurgled merrily over rocks the size of cars, creating miniature waterfalls that sparkled in the dappled sunlight. Dragonflies as large as small birds darted above the water's surface, their gossamer wings refracting the light into prismatic rainbows. With a deep breath, Abby began her journey downstream. The riverbank was a riot of color and texture. Moss as soft as velvet carpeted the ground, interspersed with mushrooms that stood taller than she did. Their caps were mottled with swirling patterns that seemed to shift and change as she stepped. Abby set off downstream, her steps more purposeful now that she had a direction to follow. As she walked, the landscape gradually shifted. The dense, jungle-like foliage gave way to more open terrain, with rolling hills covered in grass that shimmered like spun silver in the breeze. Massive flowers dotted the landscape, their petals a riot of colors she had never seen before - deep purples that seemed to glow from within, blues so vivid they hurt her eyes, and reds that pulsed like living flame. Strange creatures scurried through the grass, some resembling oversized rodents with iridescent fur, others more like insects with too many legs and eyes that glowed like tiny stars. In the sky, creatures that looked like a cross between birds and bats soared on leathery wings, their necks twisting as they called to each other in haunting, musical tones calls echoing across the vast expanse. As Abby crested a particularly steep hill, her breath caught in her throat. There, on the distant horizon, rose a sight that defied belief. A colossal city sprawled across the landscape, its spires and towers reaching impossibly high into the sky. The structures seemed to be made of a material that shimmered and shifted like liquid metal, their surfaces reflecting the light in dazzling arrays of color. Massive bridges spanned between the towering edifices, their graceful arches adorned with intricate patterns that appeared to move and dance as she watched. At the heart of the city stood a central tower that dwarfed all others, its peak disappearing into the clouds above. Pulsing beams of light in every hue imaginable shot from its apex, creating a mesmerizing lightshow that painted the sky. Abby was shocked, she knew at heart she was no longer on Earth anymore, she just had no idea where she was.

Hello again, and welcome to the final episode in Mike’s inevitable slide into babyhood. This one follows on from the events outlined in At Miss Katie’s House and Later at Miss Katie’s House. I did go back and make some edits to both of those stories so that they fit with what transpired as I wrote this one. I think this story is my longest yet, which seems like a fitting tribute to Mike and everything he’s been through with the women in his life. I originally wrote this one in past tense, but then decided present fit better with the ending. Fair warning - you might still find a few discrepancies which I’ll get around to fixing later. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! As always, all characters are 18+. Mike and Katie Together I haven’t been back on the couch long, when Katie returns to the living room, looking clean and fresh-faced, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She looks magnificent actually. Motherhood suits her in all the best ways. She leans over me with a soft smile. “You did so good waiting quietly for me, sweetie! What a good boy! Shall we check your diaper and then have a snack?” I’m immediately reminded of how good Katie always smells. Sort of like a warm kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning. That’s not quite right, but it’s a pretty close approximation of the sense of familiar comfort it brings whenever I’m close to her. She’s always so gentle and soft, too… I shake my head a little. There’s no time for these little trips down memory lane. Most of them lead straight to babyland anyway. Right now, I’ve got to focus on staying with it, here, in the present, in my adult mind. And I can’t do that without Katie‘s help: “Katie wait! Hold up a second…I’m Mike…It’s me! I’m back. I mean - the real me - this Mike - the Mike from before! I’m back.” I’m not sure that makes any sense, but it’s obvious at least that my diction and tone has gotten through to her. She freezes for a moment in shock, and then pulls me into a giant hug, peppering my head with kisses, smothering me in her warmth. A torrent of questions follows: When did I snap back? How long has it been? Am I feeling OK? What else can I remember?… I do my best to answer her questions with the limited information I have on hand. Unfortunately, I learned a long time ago that toddler Mike doesn’t take great notes, which is also why I have important questions of my own. Chief among them: WHEN is now? And for how long have I been a functional toddler? It doesn’t take long before the most pressing questions are asked and answered, and we find ourselves in a pause, both appraising the other. Her eyes flit to the bulge in my crotch, and I’m suddenly reminded of the soggy diaper around my waist. “I guess I should probably get out of this thing before too much longer” I say, while starting for the bathroom I passed earlier. Katie’s hand shoots out and stops me: “Mike, hold on a second. Um…I know this sounds crazy, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. You’ve been in diapers 24/7 for almost 6 months now. You’ve almost certainly lost some control. How about we leave it on for a little while - just until we have a better sense of where you’re at in terms of potty…toilet training? Could you do that for me?” I notice she’s slipped briefly back into her ‘preschool teacher’ tone, but I choose to ignore it. Old habits die hard, after all. But I can’t just go along with this either. My mental state is fragile right now. What if staying in a diaper pushes me back over the edge? “Katie I’m fine. I’m back. I’m not gonna piss myself. I promise! Please don’t make me wear it!” I’m doing my best to sound confident, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind that says maybe shouldn’t be so sure. My bladder feels oddly disconnected from my body. Like I’m not quite certain what’s going on with it. I guess I’m just not used to checking in with those nerves and muscles anymore. Of course, I also should’ve known that Katie had heard those lines probably 1000 times before at work, and she was ready for them. “Well, then maybe you can show me. Do you need to go potty right now? Sorry - I mean - do you need the toilet, Mike?” “No….I don’t think so,” I reply. I’m immediately aware of my mistake. A smile tugs at Katie’s lips as she once again deploys her ‘I’m in charge’ voice: “Well if you’re not sure, then let’s wait to take it off until you are. I promise I won’t think any less of you until then. In the meantime, why don’t you sit back down and we can figure out what to do next?” She pats the couch cushion beside her invitingly, and for some reason, I comply. I guess I could’ve asked to at least change into a dry diaper, but I don’t really have a playbook for this situation (and in truth - it just didn’t occur to me). We sit sideways facing one another - her on the end, me on the middle cushion, our knees touching. I’m not quite sure where to go from here, and so I’m very happy when she takes the lead in the conversation. It’s just so nice being this close to her again. Katie starts with more questions about what I remember from the last six months. I answer as best I can. Her expression is sympathetic and caring, and I find myself going into detail about feelings and emotions that I would normally keep to myself. I guess it’s not surprising that I feel comfortable sharing intimate details with a woman who has both ridden me bareback and wiped my bottom. She deftly steers the conversation away from our brief affair (wait - how did we get on that topic?) and towards this weekend and what might have triggered this latest awakening: “I have to tell you I was pretty surprised at how much you seemed to have regressed since I last saw you. I mean, I knew you had slipped based on what I heard from Miss Rachel at Sunny Hills (she says you are adorable by the way), but when Sandra dropped you off, I almost didn’t recognize you! If I had to guess, based on your speech and behavior, I’d say you had regressed to no more than two years old. You were a toddler in every way - except size of course!” I blush at this statement - thinking of how I must’ve appeared to her in that vulnerable state. How had I let myself go that far? Her expression softens as she senses my discomfort. She reaches forward and puts her hand reassuringly on my thigh. ”Oh Mike you don’t need to feel embarrassed about that! You couldn’t help it, could you?” She looks at me expectantly, until I shake my head ‘No’. “No - you couldn’t - any more than Cassie can. Do you remember meeting her last night? Helping me get her ready for bed? Well she’s asleep now, but you can meet her properly later. She’s much younger than you, just a tiny baby but…” I cut her off. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t know how much time I might have left. I’ve already been lost in conversation with her for what…an hour? If I don’t speak my piece now, I might never get another chance. “Katie, hold up a second please. I need you to know some things. And I don’t know how much longer I have, so please just listen: I don’t like this. I never wanted this. At least not like this. I mean, I know I signed on the dotted line for the regression therapy, but Sandra never told me she was going to take it this far. And I didn’t think it could go this far. I thought I’d just feel like a teenager again or something, and that maybe it would help my depression. Plus, it was a great reason to quit my horrible job. “If I had known I’d be drooling down my shirt and pissing and shitting myself in front of people like you, I’d have never signed on to it. I want it to stop. I need to be ME again! “And that’s why I need you to know how I really feel. Because you can help me even when i’m no longer able to. Talk to Sandra! Go to the center and tell them I want to stop if she won’t listen. There’s got to be some kind of clause for if I change my mind, right? They can’t just take me against my will can they? “Please, Katie - I don’t have anyone else I can trust. The truth is, I’m scared. It’s so hard feeling like I’m losing control of who I am, or of what I am, and I just want someone to help me and there’s no one except you, and I’m so confused and alone and it’s all become such a big mess that sometimes I just feel like…” It was Katie’s turn to cut me off now. She pulled me into her for a hug, holding my head to her chest and shushing me gently: “Oh Mike, sweetheart, don’t get so upset. Everything‘s gonna be OK I promise. No matter what happens, I’ll always care about you and I’ll always be here for you. You don’t need to worry about that. You’re safe here. We can get through this together!” This wasn’t the response I was expecting or looking for. Had she listened to anything I just said? “Katie - I’m telling you I’m worried that I’ll never come back to my adult self! And I’m asking you to step in if that happens. Geez! This is like life or death in that way! Can’t you see that?! Are you actually listening to anything I’m saying? “Everyone’s acting like it’s no big deal that grown-ass adults like me are turning into drooling imbeciles - and I know I effectively signed my life away voluntarily - but the fine print turns out to be a real bitch! I want to get OFF this crazy train, and I’m begging you to help me do it!” Katie recoils a little bit at my tone. She stares at me for a moment with an expression I don’t quite like, before composing herself for a reply. The preschool teacher tone is back now in a major way: “Mike, please use your quiet time voice. Cassie is still sleeping. I know that you are upset and scared, but it’s not appropriate for you to take your frustrations out on me. In fact, you’re behaving rather childishly about this situation, which probably isn’t a great idea in your condition, is it?” Again, she waits for me to shake my head ‘no’ before continuing. “I’ll give you a pass this time because you’re not used to processing adult emotions. And I do understand that this is scary for you, sweetheart. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your position…except, well, actually I can, because I care for children your “age” all day long. In fact, when I think about it, my experience caring for you and watching your transition makes me more sympathetic in some ways than others might be. We’ve been through a lot together. You’re not alone in this. And I’m still gonna be here for you no matter what. That’s what I meant, and I’m sorry if it didn’t come across that way. “I’d love to be able to tell you that this time might be different. Or that I can fix it. But I’m not an expert in this, and I don’t really know if that’s how it works. I’m pretty sure that Sandra has full custody of you now. I don’t think there’s much I can do in terms of making decisions for you or communicating your wishes to the Regression Center, except if I go through her. “Anyway, from what I understand, the best thing you can do is to learn to recognize triggers and to develop strategies to overcome them so that you don’t zone out whenever you encounter them. It does seem like you are clearer headed now compared to other times you’ve been back, so maybe we could work on that trigger resistance together - if you think you’re up to it? When I don’t answer right away, she starts up again, this time using the soft and gentle tone from before. “Mike, I need to ask you something. You don’t have to give me an answer, but I think it’s important to ask, so here goes: I’m not sure what you just said to me is entirely true. Specifically, I’m wondering if maybe there’s a part of you that likes to be treated like a baby? Again, it’s OK if you don’t want to answer. I’m just trying to figure out how to help you here. “It’s just that, I’ve noticed some things over the time I’ve known you. For instance ,how you act around women you are attracted to. You seem to crave the motherly or nurturing side of their attention. And that has only become more apparent to me as you have regressed. “Or like just a little while ago, the way you were looking at me when I was feeding Cassie. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous. Am I getting close to the actual truth here?” I was aware I was blushing bright red again. I hadn’t expected this line of questioning. The truth was, the subby side of me did crave the sorts of gentle nurturing praise or even scolding that came with babyish behavior. And I was definitely attracted to women with strong nurturing instincts. But I had never admitted that to anyone - until now. I found myself nodding ever so slightly. “Mmhmmm. I thought so. Can you tell me more about what that means? Do you maybe like wearing diapers?” I squirmed involuntarily at this question, even as it sent a delicious electric shiver up my spine and seemingly straight into my brain. “I think I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” she said good-naturedly. I felt the need to speak up here - I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of diaper freak: “I don’t like them all the time - that’s part of what I meant by “not like this” in reference to my situation. But there’s just something so comforting about being taken care of in that way. I don’t know why I like it…I just…it’s just…” “OK.” She says, saving me from my awkward stammer. “I think I actually do know why. But I have another question for you first: do you like diapers more for how they feel, or for what they represent?” I’m contemplating the answer to this, (or rather contemplating how to bring myself to give the correct answer) when she offers to answer for me: “Do you know what I think? I think you like wearing diapers because of what they represent. They really are the ultimate symbol of babyhood aren’t they? Of freedom from even the most basic responsibility. After all, big boys don’t wear diapers do they? No. Because big boys don’t go pee pee or poo poo in their pants do they? Only babies do that - and thats why their mommies and babysitters put them in soft, fluffy diapers, isn’t it?” I nod my head in response to this last statement (maybe a little too enthusiastically), but Katie doesn’t mind. In fact, she chuckles good naturedly and brushes my cheek with her hand. “I thought so. I think you like that feeling of being cared for and loved in that way. With no judgement. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing. “And I think maybe there’s also something there about other mommies or caregivers knowing you’re in diapers and treating you accordingly. Is that right, Mike? Like maybe it’s a little bit embarrassing, but kind of in a good way? Hmmm? To be treated the same as all the other kiddos in diapers? To have decisions made for you about your needs and level of competence based purely on the site of a pastel liner peeking out from the back of your pants, or the telltale square-ish bum shape of a freshly changed diaper? It’s always been a great look on you, sweetheart! Katie accentuates this last point with a gentle laugh, which seems to echo in my head, but not in an unpleasant way. I’m blushing intensely now, even though I’m managing to maintain eye contact. I feel myself twitch a little bit inside my diaper. Katie has managed to hit the nail on the head in terms of my most secret and deeply hidden reasons for signing on to the regression program. “Mike there’s nothing wrong with feeling thiat way. I could tell when I first met you that you just wanted to be mothered. I found it kind of attractive actually. And I know the other workers at Sunny Hills feel the same way. Early education tends to attract that soft, nurturing personality. I guess thats’s your type huh?” “I gotta say though, I never understood why you were with Sandra in that respect. She just doesn’t seem the type. I mean, you guys haven’t had kids yet and you’ve been together what…10 years? She doesn’t seem like she’d be very nice about your potty accidents either. Like does she spank you when you wet your pants? Did she make you stand in the corner in your dirty undies?” Her hand absentmindedly brushes her breast as she says this, which sends another electric shiver up my spine. It leaves a faint ringing in my ears. Katie doesn’t wait for an answer to these last questions. Instead, she turns now to the beginning of our relationship and what attracted me to her in the first place, connecting the dots to my recently confessed desires and what transpired between us: “I dont think Sandra was ever capable of giving you what you really needed in terms of your desires to be dominated and cared for in such gentle and fundamentally intimate ways. But I picked up on it almost immediately - even if I didn’t quite know all of the gory details” (she leans forward and softly pets the front of my diaper to emphasize this point). The ringing in my ears grows louder. “I used to love sending you subtle cues, like teasing you about spilling your drink, or calling you a good boy, or even little mothering gestures like fixing your collar without asking for permission. I knew you loved it too. It was so exhilarating having that much control over an older guy! You were always so shy and flustered around me. Like a little boy caught peaking at something he shouldn’t be. “In fact, nothing really changed once you started the regression program did it? Except you were less able to hide your feelings and needs. You would always get so squirmy whenever I checked your pants! I think you liked it. And that’s OK, because we just talked about what those things represent didn’t we? “Of course, I’m also aware that eventually you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. But at first, I think you sort of helped propel yourself along through this process - creating your own triggers as it were. Deliberately engaging in babyish behaviors so that I would take notice and treat you accordingly. It was like you were still flirting with me - just in your own unique and special ways. Does that make sense?” I nod my head again. This does make so much sense! It’s like I’m having a private conversation with my ego. Katie seems to be one step ahead of my deepest desires and secrets. Things I’m not even ready to admit to myself. “Well now I have something to confess to you. My desire to nurture you, and even to gently humiliate you, didn’t go away when you started the regression treatment - even if the motives and feelings behind them changed. “In fact, I have to admit that sometimes I’d find ways to put you in situations where I could treat you like a baby, or push you into positions of greater dependency on me. There were more than a few times - in the early days especially - when you were showing very obvious signs of needing the toilet, and I just didn’t remind you or take you, because I wanted an opportunity to get to lay you down and tug your pants off again. “Sorry, I guess it’s my turn to sound weird! I know it’s very different circumstances, but something about changing you just lights me up me on an emotional level. It’s not sexual at all - it’s more about my own desire as a woman to be loved and needed. I think it was the way your eyes would go all soft and gooey as you looked up at me from that position of complete trust and vulnerability - it melted my heart. Every girl wants to be looked at that way. That feeling is way better than anything we could ever do in the bedroom. In fact, it’s what I’ve always craved from you. I never quite got there with adult Mike.” Now it was her turn to have flushed cheeks. She brushed the side of her breast again absentmindedly. “Anyway, I don’t think we should talk anything more about that. Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly surprised when I saw you silhouetted in the doorway, looking longingly at me as I nursed Cassie. “Were you maybe imagining that I was doing that for you? Hmmm? it’s OK. You can tell me.” I nod again. The ringing in my ears growing even louder. My diaper feels tighter. I’m suddenly aware that she’s been lightly caressing my upper thigh with her right hand. “That’s kind of taboo for a big boy, you know,” she says with another little laugh. But then again, you never could keep your eyes off my tits could you?” I can’t help shaking my head “no” in reply, which prompts yet another soft laugh from Katie. “It’s OK, baby, you can look. Do you like how much bigger they’ve gotten? I know I do!” She strokes her left breast more deliberately now with her free hand. Meanwhile, her right hand has found its way to the front of my diaper. I’m finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything other than the site of her nipples poking through her thin tee shirt. It feels like there are fireworks going off in my head now. “I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but my milk is off-limits for you. It’s only for little babies. And you’re definitely a big boy, right?” She gently cups my chin as she asks this, raising my head and forcing me to look away from her breasts. Her gaze feels more serious than playful now. It’s almost like she’s assessing me. And as weird and contradictory as it sounds, in that moment, I was strongly tempted to tell her that she was mistaken. That I actually was a baby. That I was qualified to take her breast. To nurse from her. To risk everything for a chance to give myself over to her in that way. Katie wasn’t letting up either. “Are you curious about what my milk tastes like sweetie? Do you wonder what it would feel like to climb into my arms in your jammies and soggy diaper and have me guide you to my nipple?” I don’t reply, but there’s another involuntary twitch in my diaper that I’m sure she can feel, even through the soggy padding. “Mmmmhmmm. I thought so. But those don’t sound like things a big boy would wonder about, do they? “No they don’t. A big boy would be wondering whether I’m about to take his diaper off and straddle him right here on the couch. In fact, most big boys would have jumped on top of me already, given the obvious cues I’m sending. I’m literally stroking your dick right now, darling, and you’re just sitting there with a dopey look on your face. If you were a big boy, you’d be about to have another big, sticky accident in your soggy pants. “But you don’t work that way, do you? You don’t want those things. Or at least not as much as you want other things. Things that I’m still willing to give you…as long as you ask in the right ways..” In all honesty I wasn’t sure what I wanted at that point, or what I was even into. It felt like forever since I’d done anything sexual with a woman. But it also felt impossible to find the line between my babyish needs and my adult desires. Katie stepped on the gas now: “I have an idea. Maybe if I show them to you, it will help you decide. “Or…we could think of this like a trigger test: If you can resist my boobies without your brain turning back into baby mush, then maybe you’ll be able to resist other triggers? What do you think, sweetie? Should I pull up my top and show you my boobies? Is it worth the risk?” I was wild with lust and desire at this notion. I nodded an enthusiastic “yes” with almost no hesitation, licking my lips in anticipation. Katie smiles at me seductively, and then slowly raises her T-shirt until both of her breasts drop out below. They are absolutely magnificent. She is a mother goddess. She reaches up and gives the left one a gentle squeeze, and a single drop of milk appears, glistening and rolling down the end of the nipple. I sit there gaping - absolutely mesmerized - for I don’t know how long. I feel paralyzed with awe and reverence. But also still very much in my adult mind. I have passed the test! I smile up at her and say, (perhaps a little too loudly), “I’m still a big boy Katie!” “I can see that” she says in a syrupy tone, while beginning to caress her breasts more deliberately. “Such a clever boy! You passed that one with flying colors didn’t you? “I think you might be ready for another, harder test! What do you think? Would you like to try, baby?” Again, I nod my head “yes” enthusiastically. OK - such a brave boy! Get ready! Here we go: Do you need to go potty yet?” Such an easy question, at least under normal circumstances, but right now I’m still unsure. There is a vague sense of discomfort from somewhere below my belly button, but I couldn’t tell you if it was just my dick still trying to make room in the confines of the diaper, or the actual need to go. I tell her a bit sheepishly that I still don’t know, which prompts another gentle laugh. “Awwww sweetie, that’s OK. That doesn’t mean you failed the test. After all, you’ve been spending a lot of time lately not worrying about the answer to that question. And now that you’re in Miss Rachel‘s classroom, it’s probably even more difficult. None of your peers are setting a good example for you to follow in the potty department anymore are they, baby? “Anyways - the good news for you (my good little boy), is that I know a way you can find out and still pass! Do you want to try it with me? “Good! It’s sooo simple even a baby can do it! All you have to do is give a little push! Can you do that for me? Do you remember what that feels like?” I realize that l’ve already begun pushing before she’s finished her last question. My face is now red for different reasons, but still, nothing happens. Not even a trickle. An overwhelming sense of disappointment washes over me. Have I failed? “Silly goose’” exclaims Katie, “you’ve got to get in the right position first before you start pushing, otherwise it’s not gonna work! Go ahead and stand up for me, sweetie. There’s a good boy. Now, I’ll hold onto your hands and you can try again. Go on! Push for me, baby!” Without thinking more about it, I let her take my hands. Katie smiles at me encouragingly as I push harder and deeper than before, bending my legs just a little bit this time. She’s right - this is a much better position for this kind of activity! I feel a rippling sensation from my abdomen, followed by a pleasant shiver up my spine, and then I’m full on pooping in my pants. There’s no trying to hold it back. This isn’t an ‘accident.’ I’m just having my usual morning bowel movement while standing next to the couch in Katie’s living room. I push again, this time for longer, and I’m rewarded with a delightful warm fullness around my bottom. Another pleasant shiver snakes up my spine, prompting a little wiggle from my behind and a generous gush of urine from my front. And then, just like that, the deed is done. The whole episode lasted maybe 10 seconds, although it seemed much longer. I’m left feeling dazed and more than a little unsure about the outcome or its meaning. Is this a pass or a fail? I take a moment to check in with myself. Yes - I’m still here. Still me. But is pooping my pants really proof of anything positive in that respect? The idea seemed to make perfect sense just a minute ago - but now I’m not so sure. I realize that Katie has kept hold of my hands this whole time. Her breasts are also still hanging free under her bunched up shirt, which threatens to distract me from my self-assessment. Without asking permission, she spins me around and pulls back the waistband of my diaper to peek inside: “Oh, sweetie,” she whispers in my ear, “You made a big poopy in your diaper! I think we found the answer to the question about whether or not you had to go potty, didn’t we?” She reaches down and gives my bottom a firm squish for emphasis, her bare breasts pressing into my back. “How do you feel sweetheart? Can you still recite your ABCs?” she asks playfully. “I guess it’s a good thing I made you keep that diaper on, huh? Miss Katie is so clever sometimes!” This last question wasn’t quite fair, but I chose to let it go. Her nonchalant attitude is putting me more at ease about the whole situation. And on balance, it does seem like a good thing that messing my pants hasn’t triggered the expected zone out to babyland. I turn back around to face her, acutely aware of the mess shifting with my movements. “Well…I guess this means…I…passed? Maybe this means I’m trigger proof?” I’m doing my best to mirror her ‘pooping in your pants in front of me is no big deal’ vibe. Katie studies me briefly before replying. At first her expression is a confusing mixture of amusement and appraisal - it’s a little bit disconcerting given the delicate position she’s just helped put me in. Aren’t we on the same team here? We’re still working together, right? I’m relieved to see her face soften a little as she begins to lay out our next move. “Not quite, sweetie, I think we should do one more test just to be sure. Why don’t you sit back down and we can talk about what it might be?” I lower myself gingerly onto the seat next to her, which prompts another good-natured chuckle from Katie. The syrupy tone is back. “Come closer, sweetheart. You’re doing so good! Let me cuddle you for a second. Your poopy bottom doesn’t bother me, I promise! “Now, where were we? Oh that’s right! A final trigger test. Do you know what it is? I think you might. We were just talking about about it a few minutes ago…” Her arm is around my shoulder, and there’s a gentle but insistent pressure pulling me towards her chest. I can see that both nipples are dripping now. What’s the term for that again? ‘Let down?’ “That’s right. I think you already know the answer, my sweet little boy. I want you to try nursing from my boobies. If you can resist going back to baby land while doing that, then you’re almost definitely trigger proof!” She reaches up and slowly pulls her top completely off, now offering me a completely unobstructed view of her breasts. Her bare shoulders accentuate the soft curves of her womanhood. Another electric shock courses from my perineum to the top of my scalp. The ringing in my ears has grown deafening. Given what I’ve just been though, this seems like both a wonderful and a terrible idea. Hadn’t she just told me that only a baby was allowed to do this? That only a baby would want this? And yet the urge to comply was so irresistible. I was literally drooling down my top looking at her breasts. “Come on, pumpkin,” she coos in her most syrupy and seductive voice. “Come have some lovely warm booby milk, and then I’ll change your stinky pants. And it can be an extra special diaper change if you’re still a big boy when we finish. Won’t that be nice?” I am powerless to resist. Without further hesitation, I turn and lay myself across her lap, my head facing her chest, my mouth already straining greedily upwards. She gently guides her nipple into my mouth with one hand and then cradles the back of my head, holding me to her, pressing me into her, suffocating me in her warmth and femininity. She moans as I performed a tentative first suck. Encouraged by her response, I give a longer, deeper suck, and this time hot milk rolls over my tongue. It’s heaven. My eyes roll back. Fireworks go off in my head. I’m barely able to follow along as Katie whispers softly to me: “Such a good baby. Mikey doesn’t want to be a big boy, does he? No. He wants to be a little baby drinking from my boobies in a dirty diaper. I’ve known that all along, darling. This is what’s best for you. This is what everyone wants for you now. She smiles down at me. I smile dopily back around the nipple, milk spilling from the corner of my mouth. I feel my bladder letting go, my diaper warming against her hip as I continue to suck. I giggle and close my eyes, watching the fireworks behind them. There was something I needed to do - something I needed to try to maintain, but it doesn’t seem important right now. I’m feeling so comfy and safe and warm. Completely blissed out. Katie has started humming the same, simple melody I heard her performing earlier. The song has no words, but it’s still so profoundly meaningful in terms of what it tells me about warmth, and care, and safety, and love. I sigh deeply around her nipple. “Pancakes!,” I think. “She smells like pancakes!” And then I am gone.

Mouthwatering. Drool dripping. One glance around. Two glances. She’s in the clear. Reaching out her hand, leaning forward, forward, forward. Almost there, almost - “Hey!” The Little jumps, startled, and is yanked back in place by the collar of her romper. The movement is quick and caught off guard, the world dizzies around her and she stumbles backwards, falling down to the ground with a muted thud on her bottom, protected from the pain by her overly padded lower half. Goddamn it! She whines, quickly scooped up. Trapped in the strong iron hold of the ten foot tall woman, it is useless to fight. She was so close. It’s right there. Right in front of her. It just wasn’t fair! A sob escapes her chest, crying out in frustration but no one is concerned. The Amazon switches her to the other hip, settling her in place from high up off the ground. “No more wandering for the baby!” A man smirks and a round of condescending laughter rings out. Her cheeks burn red in a mix of humiliation and anger yet still she buries her face into the woman’s large firm bosoms, as soft as a cushion. The Little knows it is sick to seek comfort from her captor but it’s all she could to escape the mockery. “Do you see that, Buttercup?” The woman holding her, forces her head up, pointing at the end of the table where a plate of food sat - the very plate of food that she still salivated over. The plate of food that she had been so close to snatching. “Cheeseburgers are a grown up meal. You, on the other hand, are just Mommy’s tiny baby. What do babies like you eat?” The Little wished this were a rhetorical question because than she wouldn’t have to answer but the Amazon - her captor and Mommy was expecting one. And there was only one right response. “Babas.” She shamefully whispered, looking down and allowing her head of bleach blonde curls to fall in her eyes, hiding from the attention of the other giant people around. “That’s right.” The Amazon brushes the hair out of her face, tilting her chin up so she looks into her electric green eyes, mesmerizing, so bright. The Little gulps, instead shifting her attention to the shiny necklace around the woman’s long slender neck. “It’s okay if you forget sometimes,” the woman giggles. “Mommy understands that it is confusing to be Little. Weird people like to fill your head with silly thoughts. It’s a good thing Mommy is here to always remind my Buttercup of how little she really is.” A kiss to the nose, a pat to the bottom and the popping out of a pale, voluminous breast is all it takes to remind her of the situation she has found herself in. The onlookers coo, unperturbed by the scene of partial nudity because it was normal to breastfeed your child in public, in fact it was encouraged. Never mind the fact the child in question was a thirty-five year old woman who just one week ago was a normal (well, as normal as a five foot person could be in this dimension) tourist that had arrived for her dream vacation in a foreign dimension to escape her shitty divorce and shittier ex - husband. Now here she was. Diapered and wearing a strawberry printed legless romper with way too many ruffles that was obviously meant to accentuate her rounded bottom, it didn’t even bother to hide how the padding puffed out at the sides. Her hair was styled into a disastrous perm that didn’t look cute on anyone past the age of one. However, thing that get her the most pressed was that she couldn’t remember the last time called her by her actual name, Hannah, instead of the ridiculous moniker the Giant people had taken to referring to her as: Buttercup. “C’mon baby. The doctor said you are too toned. We have to fatten you up.” Without a moment to process, she gasps in surprise when her oxygen is suddenly taken away, stuffed with a mouthful of tit. The only way to properly breathe was to inhale and to inhale meant sucking which she did so reluctantly. It took a moment, careful to mind her teeth (remembering the harsh spanking from just the other day) and after several hard suckles, a thick creamy liquid came streaming out filling her mouth and lighting up her taste buds. The beginning is slow and she shuts her eyes as if it would make her disappear from this place, doing whatever she could do to get through the moment. However it didn’t take long for her limbs to lose their rigid stance and her body began to melt like ice cream into the Amazons soft touch and the Little wondered what she’d been so against before. Gulp after gulp, swallowing, moaning, yearning for more she doesn't even register as the younger Amazon switches her to the second breast. “What poor creatures these Portal Littles are. Forced to live in that corrupted dimension,” a voice comments with a shiver as the others agree. Another pipes up. “You know how I have always advocated for storming the Portal world. Those children need to be shown what real leadership is, especially when they have gotten in their heads that they don’t even need diapers -” “Imagine all of the accidents.” The chatter floats over head, too lost in a milk filled daze to even try to process what they are saying. “At least our Littles know what happens when you misbehave. Isn’t that right, Tulip?” The question is asked toward the other Little sitting at the picnic bench on her father’s lap. “Yes, Daddy.” She responds in a dainty voice that is very mindful, very demure. Tulip is sure of her place in this world of baby powder, diapers and no cheeseburgers. She doesn’t even sniff at the food covered table or glance at the rising smoke from the grill. There’s a squeal of delight in the distance, kids kicking a ball back and forth, a woman lounges in the grass reading her book and a couple strolls on by pushing a pram. It was just a normal family gathering in the park on this warm Autumn evening. Nothing amiss besides from the newly adopted family member who seemed to have trouble processing that she wasn't as big as she thought she was. OoOoo They sit further away from the group, dolls in hand and play silently, Buttercup not quite having mastered the courage to speak the first word. Something about the girl in front of her made her squirm. Her eyes were a vivid shade of hazel that had seemed to follow her throughout the afternoon and examining her closely now, she could see the olive tone within her skin and hair was blacker than the darkest night. Going off her best guess, the portal Little estimated Tulip’s age to be between twenty-three to twenty-five years old. It was difficult to tell with the padding around her bottom, not as thick as hers but still considerably uncomfortable to move in, and puffy dress that she kept having to push down out of her face. Also with the amount of fat pooled around her face, there was still a harshness, a structure to her jaw and frown line at the corners of her mouth that revealed her true age. “Are you only going to gawk? That’s not a very nice way to greet your cousin.” Cousin? Oh yeah. Cousins. They were adopted. The Little is surprised when she looks up at her for the first time with a scrutinizing glare. “My name is Ha - “ “No.” She cuts her off. “What?” “Your name is Buttercup just like my name is Tulip and we are so obviously cousins. Your Mommy’s name is Mommy and you are just a baby that pisses and shits yourself because babies are stupid and immature and don’t know any better.” The girl deadpans as if this should have been common knowledge and regards her with a sniff, turning down her nose at her. Hannah doesn’t know what she has done to get on this girl’s bad side. This was their first time meeting, even interacting with each other. How could she have pissed her off so quickly? She opens her mouth to speak again but doesn’t get the chance. The girl in front of her reaches out, grabbing the pacifier clipped to the front of her outfit that she had actively avoided using and sticks it between her lips much to her shock. Hannah goes to remove the massive rubber bulb which made her cheeks puff out like chipmunks when Tulip icily advises, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Her hand freezes, half way there and slowly puts it down in her lap, heading to her warning. They look behind them, relieved to see the Amazons still in conversation having yet to take notice of their little set to. “You portal Littles are always so entitled and full of yourselves. Whining and complaining, ‘I don’t want to wear diapers! I’m not a baby!’ Blah blah blah,” she sneers, vehemently spitting out the words as if she had tasted something sour. “Your presence is going to ruin everything I’ve worked towards for the last five years.” Hannah doesn’t even take offense at the poor imitation of her voice because her focus is on the five years part. Five years. Her stomach lets out a revolting jolt as she tries to process this startling new piece of information. The Little had hoped this stint was a temporary thing, that the Amazons would be amused for maybe a few weeks or so before setting her free and she could get back to her regular life. But by her tone and Tulip’s hardened face, that was anything but the truth. “Us native Littles know what is expected of us. We’ve prepared for this diapered life from the day we were born because it has never been a question of ‘if’ only ‘when’.” Hannah lets out a muffled plea, begging for forgiveness over something she couldn’t even control. She finds it incredibly sad how these average sized persons spend their whole lives just waiting, just fearing over the prospect that they would lose everything they’d worked towards and themselves in a blink of an eye. How was that a way to live? “I have worked my way up to toddler status,” she states proudly with a haughty look on her face. “It’s taken nearly five years but everyone loves me. Everyone trusts me. However, now you are here.” The Little is terribly confused and pity’s the girl who seems so convinced that pullups is the most she can wish for. Hannah had dealt with plenty of mean girls in her life from high school cheerleaders to petty coworkers whose pastime was spreading humiliating gossip about each other people who were supposed to be their friends. Having developed thick skin from too many times being let down, Hannah was shocked to discover the twinge in her heart that the one other person who should have stood with her in solidarity, cast her aside. “Your horrid behavior is going to be the undoing of all my hard work because as Daddy always says, ‘when there is one naughty Little that means there are two.’ Everything you do will reflect on me and I may not be free but at least I’m not sitting in a shit filled diaper which,” she pauses, glancing down, “neither are you.” Uh - oh. Hannah gulps and it has become painfully clear that this girl - her cousin - was not going to be her friend. The padding between her thighs was cold and damp, having unknowingly pissed herself during the previous feeding which left her bloated and uncomfortably full. This perplexed Hannah because for having only consumed the woman’s breast milk for the last week, she should have lost weight but she had instead seemingly put on a whopping ten pounds which shouldn’t have been possible but it was the truth. Tulip glares at her, expectantly. She demands. “You need to shit yourself.” If her mouth wasn't stuffed full already, it would have dropped open. Instead her eyes widened comically, wondering if she had just heard what she thought she did. “You heard me.” Tulip repeats slowly as if she were a dim witted child and huffs out an explanation that she didn't seem to want to give. “Amazon’s love a messy diaper, nothing furthers their superiority complex more than that. You give them control and the suspicion falls away. Any crazy ideas your mommy comes up with won't spread to my daddy. Do you understand how important this is? I spent six months in Etiquette School unlearning my ABCs and I just got them back and would really like it to stay that way!” There's an hysterical edge to her tone, a hint of madness in her eyes that leads the Little to believe that she wasn't as put together as she portrayed. Slowly (tempted to raise her hands in surrender to show she meant no malice) did Hannah nod her head. It was as if a light switch turned on because in an instant, her lips curved up into a smile, eyes bright with a friendliness that she knew not to trust. “I knew you would understand!” She chirps. “Glad there is no misunderstanding.” Even if Hannah could respond, what would she say to this? The Little continues to watch her, waiting again with a not so right expression and Hannah realizes with dread that she is waiting for her to do it. Right here and now. She’d never willingly forced herself to go. Her bowels always just seemed to work on their own violation and was too late to stop the mass once it started. But, now as Hannah attempted, bearing down on her stomach, all it took was one push. A horrible shock went through her body, terrified that her system could be weakened so quickly in a short amount of time and moved into a crouching position. Panting, quick little puffs through pursed lips, she felt her sphincter open up, allowing a generously large amount of shit the texture of paste to come pouring out. It could have been a minute or two (time ceased to exist) that she remained in that position unable to control the ebb and flow and gave into her body’s natural urges and the padding swelled beneath her, hanging low. It was warm and smelly as the Little fell back on her bottom in a heap of exhaustion. She could feel right away the spread of her waste, soiling every inch of clean skin, getting up in the nooks and crannies of her lower half. She sat with her legs spread, unable to touch her thighs due to the hanging brown lump and wondered how much lower it could get from here. And it does. Tulip exclaims, screaming as loud as she can, “Daddy! Buttercup went poopy! It’s really stinky!” The whole park probably heard - no - they definitely heard and Hannah can’t take it any longer. She burst into tears. “Don’t worry, Buttercup.” Tulip smirked. “Just wait another five years. Maybe then you will have earned your way to pull ups. But then again, maybe not. You don’t want to get on my backside.”

Robin Crusoe (4th Kasarberang Story Contest, Part one, 6/24/2024) Captain Robin gave a silent curse. Her ship was handling more like Cleopatra’s barge instead of the nimble ship she was. Ladies Choice was loaded with relief supplies. The small island nation in front of her had been devastated by a hurricane. All services were wiped out and most of the homes destroyed. But worse, so much worse, were the rebels deciding now was the perfect time for a coup. They were not allowing any aid except through them and all they did was steal it for themselves or to sell it to the island’s rich upper class. So instead of taking tourists for a shark dive she was smuggling in supplies. Lots of supplies. More than was safe to carry. The ship had powerful engines, but they were not very quiet. Their rumble could be heard for quite some distance. Especially on dark windless nights like these. She had a small electric motor that was mostly used for positioning the ship or moving about the harbor. While it was quiet it was not powerful. If not for the nearly flat seas and windless night they would not be strong enough. The rebels had patrols out and were actively searching for smugglers. Not because they cared about the type of goods coming in but about losing the strangle hold they had on the people. Normally she had two deck hands to handle all the things involved with taking tourists out to dive with sharks. Putting the cages together and many other tasks that a single Captain couldn’t do. But this was a risky venture, if they were caught, they could be arrested or killed outright by the rebels. Other than unloading the goods, she could handle the ship alone. It was her ship after all. Her satellite positioning system, SPS, showed about ten miles to the coast and that she was directly approaching the tiny fishing village that was her target landing spot. She could only hope there were enough survivors to help unload the supplies. She had all the windows and doors open for the small room that served as the ship’s helm. The true Captains Quarters according to her crew. The windows allowed the sounds of a patrol boat to reach her. The sounds were from the port side and were faint at first but were slowly growing louder. The sound was a boat puttering around and not racing. She did not think she had been spotted but turned the ship to starboard a few degrees to try and increase the space between them. This seemed to help. After a few minutes the sound diminished. She would have to get back on course in the next couple of miles if she wanted to avoid some nasty reefs. She held course for an additional twenty minutes and then nudged the ship back on course. She was hoping they still had a pier she could tie up to. They could unload onto fishing boats too. That is if they still had any seaworthy. The sudden roar of a boat engine echoed across the water. Damn! She had been spotted. The good news was the boat was still a good distance behind her. She had planned for this worst case contingency. Anyone making for this town would have to come this way to avoid the reefs. She had hoped it was too small to have a patrol boat just sitting here. She had mapped a narrow path through the reefs. She hoped to ground her pursuers on one and make a run for home. The supplies would have to wait for another trip. She turned on a mapping layer. It plotted a path onto the screen of her SPS. She saw that she was not far from the start of the path she had prerouted. She had studied a lot of maps and looked at a lot of satellite photos. Good escape routes were a requirement. Quickly she killed the electric motor and started up the more powerful main. She couldn’t go much faster, but the more powerful engine allowed her much more maneuverability. She followed the route as precisely as she could. It was only possible because the waves were almost nonexistent tonight. Just gentle swells. She was well into her path when the smaller faster boat came into sight. She was certain they wanted to board her and not just sink her. She was carrying valuable supplies after all. It was a chase, a slow chase but tense. The path was narrow, and neither ship had room for error. She had already scrapped the hull twice and only a quick hand on the wheel kept it from being more than a scrape. Unfortunately, the chase boat also managed to avoid the reefs. Almost. They took the last curve a little wider than the boat they were chasing and hung the rear of the boat on the rocks. While the Captain worked the engine trying to free the boat the rebel in charge of the trio of soldiers on board ordered his men to open fire. Better to sink it then let get away. Robin ducked as bullets started impacting all around her. She swore “Shit!”. She was almost clear too. She had no choice now. She needed to get some distance from the guns. Still crouched down she opened up the throttle and the ship leaped forward. She didn’t even look out the window. She kept her eyes glued to the SPS and the track she followed. One minute, two minutes and the shooting stopped. Once she felt safe, she stood up and looked back. The rebel ship was still grounded, and smoke was coming from its engine. Most importantly they stopped shooting. She sighed in relief. She made it. She turned back to the front and saw the strangest sight. It was raining. It was raining in only a small part of the ocean. Then there was a flash of lightning, and she could see that the rain was blowing in from what looked like a rip in the sky. Even as she watched the tear was shrinking around her. She had no time to stop or change the course, she was through almost as soon as she saw it. A rift a damn dimensional rift. She wanted to swear or turn back but all hell was breaking out on this side of the rift. The storm that hit the island on her side weeks ago was blowing full force here. Or maybe it was a different storm and there was no connection. None of it mattered as she struggled to keep control, as her ship was dragged up one wave and dumped down another. The driving rain crashed against the glass and made it almost impossible to see. The storm raged around her, and it was just one wave at a time. The bottom of the wave nearly caught her bow and threatened to take her under. The top of the wave pushed the ship nearly out of the water, the props spinning in the air before crashing back down the wave slope just to do it again and again. She lasted one hour, then two. Exhaustion was slowly taking its toll. Each cycle harder than the one before. She didn’t know how long she could last. She crested the next wave and it got worse. It could always get worse. The ship came down on a reef. Tearing the bottom out of the boat and flinging Robin into the wheel and the up and through the glass window. The wheel hurt a little and the window was basically painless but the impact with the deck and bow rail felt like sledgehammers to her shoulder, hip and the back of her head. She had no time to be stunned as the next wave picked up the ship and threw it forward and off the reef. At this point she and her ship went separate ways. She was tossed over the rail like a rag doll. Her scrambling fingers finding no purchase. She struggled to find the surface. The waves turned her around and around. She was running out of air when her feet hit the rocks below her. She pushed up and moments later her head breached the surface, and she gasped in a breath, her lungs full of fire. She didn’t have time for more as the next wave dragged her down across the ocean bottom. Her body slammed here and there. She struggled and thrashed, not giving in, not letting the sea take her. She felt the bottom once more and realized she was standing with her head out of the water. More blessed breaths before she was knocked off her feet. She floundered again and found the bottom. This time she was only waist deep. The next wave only helped push her towards shore. Her exhaustion made her knees shake and her vison tunnel. Black curtains seemed to descend over her eyes. A few more steps and she was clear of the water. Her body seemed to take this as safety, and she collapsed face first into the sand and knew no more. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The hot sun on her face finally woke Robin. She blinked her eyes trying to remember where she was and why she was lying in the sand. Her body ached and her head throbbed. The world spun once then twice as she slowly sat up. The sun was bright, and the white sand seemed even brighter. She closed her eyes and let the spinning stop. When the spinning finally stopped, she slowly let her eyes adjust to the sunlight. From her seat she could see an endless ocean in front of her, featureless except for the odd way the waves broke so far from shore. It sparked her mind, her memories flooding back. The rebels shooting at her, threading the reef, an endless nightmare sea. She thought harder and remembered the crash and being flung into the water. Somehow making it to shore. Lucky to be alive. Slowly she got to her feet. Her clothing was ripped, and she was missing both shoes. She was bruised everywhere, her skin covered with small cuts and abrasions. Nothing was broken, a miracle. If she believed in a god she would have prayed. Too her left the beach stretched out of sight. White and beautiful. Behind her there was maybe five hundred meters of jungle before the steep cliffs of what she took to be a hopefully extinct volcano. To her right was more beach. But unlike the beach to her left this section of beach had boxes of supplies strewn across it. Not a good sign for her ship but hopefully something useful for her. She slowly walked the beach. Each time she came across a crate she pulled it up the beach and past the high tide mark. Even though the crates were large and full they had been designed to float in case they fell into the water. She kept count as she pulled them from the water. Twenty crates. It seemed like a lot when you saw them on the beach but were well short of the total that was on the boat to begin with. She thought some more and figured it was a pretty good representation of what had been strapped own on the deck. If she could find where her ship sank, she might be able to find more supplies if needed. The whole time she was collecting the crates something seemed odd to her about the jungle. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She put it to the back of her mind and decided to keep walking along the beach. There was nobody coming to rescue her. She wasn’t sure how close she was to the island she was bringing supplies too. Wham! Another memory came back. The rift! She had gone through a rift. She ran up the beach and looked at the jungle vegetation. She was no botanist, but the species looked familiar. Immediately before her were palms, coconut trees and what looked like a banana tree. The ground had grass and under the shade of the larger trees were ferns. Nothing weird or too exotic. Except…Except….the scale was wrong. Everything seemed off. She stood under the coconut tree and stared up. Then she grabbed a coconut from the ground. She held it in one hand. It felt like a softball. But it was a coconut. She had never seen one so small. Or a coconut tree so short. She crushed the coconut in her hand and dropped it to the ground. She had heard that the rifts that brought littles to her home dimension could sometimes work the opposite way if there was enough atmospheric interference. Out loud she muttered “Well Vovo, it doesn’t look like were in Kantas anymore.” Earth she thought. She was pretty sure the littles that populated this world called it earth.

Across the street, into the Parkinson’s yard, through the fence and over the hill. That’s where freedom lay. In that exact order. Pippa - Louise knew that because last year she had made the mistake of trying to climb over the fence. Of course with it being fourteen feet tall, how would a Little of five foot stature reach that? It had been a noble plan destined to fail from the start and if someone had told her how hard it would be to escape a cul de sac, she’d burst into laughter. But it was difficult and that’s why she’d gotten smarter this year, concocting with the other Littles in the neighborhood about the yearly game of Hide and Seek. Of course, it was always the Amazons who would seek and the Littles that would hide (and run). It was a game everyone waited in anticipation for as it was their one true time to escape. It got hopes up among each Little that perhaps there was hope for a mature future, one without diapers and intruding checks and the permanent smell of baby powder and endless days of play… “Pippa - Louise? Are you there?” What? A voice. Someone talking. “Please, say something quickly!” High pitched and airy. She blinks. Once and then twice. Pippa - Louise knew that voice. Betsy! In an instant, her head popped up and out of the flower pot being her exact height. She meets Betsy’s searching blue eyes crouched behind the Holly bush at the edge of the road. The Little watches as Betsy mouths to wait, pointing towards the left where two twelve foot women cruised the street. Hunting. Seeking. Noted. Pippa - Louise nods, sinking back down inside the ceramic pot that had been collecting dust for the last several months in the front yard. “Where oh where could the Little ones be? Munchkin and Pumpkin must be hungry. I made their favorite food: buttered noodles and a vanilla bottle.” the first voice mused. “Well, I’ve got a warm bubble bath waiting at home and Mr. Ducky just misses Little Henry terribly! Who is he to play with?” Did they really think it would be that easy? Pippa - Louise lets out a silent scoff, shaking her head back and forth. They weren’t that stupid as to be swayed over something so… so scrumptious and inviting. Her mouth begins to water. Drool, Dribbling down her chin and - NO! She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes open and shut. One time. Two times. “Pippa - Louise?” Three times. “Pippa?” The voice calls in a whisper-yell once again and her head whips up, auburn curls swinging in her face. Her eyes widened, remembering what they were doing. Escaping. Hiding. Hide and Seek. That’s right. The Amazons were far enough away. No one else around except the hiding Littles. “Let’s go.” Betsy mouths, giving the signal to run. They just had to run. Across the street, into the Parkinson’s yard, through the fence and over the hill. Then they were free. Pippa - Louise gives a nod of acknowledgement, knowing it was time. She rocks back and forth, tilting side to side and suddenly the world has turned sideways, the pot on its side and the Little is spit out on the grass. It tickles beneath her skin. So green. So shiny. She picks a skinny sliver examining it closely. “Pippa!” In an instant, she looks up. Betsy is standing there, above her, holding out an anxious hand and an expression in her baby blue eyes that makes Pippa - Louise confused. “What?” She asks, ignoring her outreached hand. The Little grunts, leaning forward onto all fours and maneuvers herself up into a standing position. She wobbles, rocking back onto her heels and sticks her arms out in an attempt to catch her balance. “Um…” Betsy hesitates, eyes flickering over the diaper firmly secured around her lower half. The space between her separated thighs is taken up by the extra thick padding, leak guard and soaker pad, taped half way up her stomach and expanded out to just below her knees. “Don’t we need to go?” Pippa - Louise asked when she had steadied herself, uselessly pulling down on her sparkly unicorn shirt that ended just above her pooled out belly feet. “It’s not safe in the open!” The Little knew what Betsy was staring at and she really did look like a beached whale. However, Mommy always said that proper padding is important to prevent messy little girls and she knew it wouldn’t prevent her from escaping. Pippa - Louise could still waddle if she just focused on her feet. One foot in front of the other. One at a time. “Ugh,” Pippa- Louise groaned, green eyes rolling to the back of her head. “I’ll be fine. You worry too much. I made it all the way from my house to here, didn’t I?” That was a moot point. They stood beside her house, in their neighbors yard which was Betsy's. “Pippa - “ “Let’s go.” The Little ignores what she’s going to say knowing It’ll be nothing good. “We’ve been here too long. It’s almost time.” This year was the most comprehensive plan the Littles had made to date together and it had to work out. Their neighborhood was shaped like a horseshoe, ten houses going in one big half circle. If everything was to go how they’d timed, the Little brown haired boy, Henry who lived in the center would create a distraction drawing the Amazon’s attention away from the Twins in the blue house, diagonal from the Parkinson’s. That would give Pumpkin and Munchkin the chance to run, avoiding Old Man Blues and his binoculars, always sitting on his front porch searching for naughty Littles. If Old Man Blues was distracted than so would be Mrs. Pinehurst who lived right beside him because she had the fattest crush on him that anyone had ever seen. Her backyard was essential being that she was both practically deaf and blind which would allow the Littles to lie and wait. That being said, the Parkinson’s and Mrs. Pinehurst’s house was only separated by a single yard and that wouldn’t be a problem if not for the dog. The Amazon couple that owned it were on vacation but their mutt of a pet was meticulous in guarding its owners property and sight of the Littles would surely set it off. Pippa - Louise gulped, freckled face ashen as she thought about every way this could possibly go wrong. The Parkinson’s large yellow house with the perfectly manicured garden mocked them cruelly. It should have been easiest for them, being right across the street because while almost in reach, they were still seemingly so far away. “We are going to need to run.” “I can do that.” Pippa - Louise had always been a bad liar. “Let’s go then.” Betsy shrugged. It was easy for Betsy Kinsella because of the moderately thick pull - up she’d been gifted for her third birthday for a sixth year in a row. Not all of them were so lucky, especially Pippa - Louise and her overbearing mother but that didn’t put her off and only increased her determination. Steeling up the courage, she muttered to herself, “you can do it, Pippa - Louise. One step at a time.” And that she did. Crinkle. The noise echoed after her every step but that wasn’t a big concern.The problem was the fact that her legs trembled and ankles were already sore. She’d become intimately familiar with her backside, always looking up at either her colorful mobile, Mommy’s happy smile and or when her bottom was expertly cleaned, changed and diapered. Pippa - Louise realized that the world made much more sense, backside down and she frowned, wondering why she even was standing - Oh wait. The game. Hide and Seek. She was supposed to be hiding and Mommy was supposed to be seeking. Hiding meant freedom and freedom meant being a big girl in the big world like she used to live before that fateful day at the coffee shop and the sticky accident. But that was a lifetime ago, nearly six months. The memories were hazy but she could picture a girl by the name of Logan in a tiny bare apartment with her hair up in a messy bun and laying down after a long day at work. She’d narrowly dodged Amazon’s petty little tricks just to keep her pants dry for another day more. It seemed exhausting but Betsy, Henry, Munchkin and Pumpkin all said it was worth it and that she’d remember how she missed that tiresome, diaper - less life and the Little giggled to herself. She was just being silly. Mommy’s goofy adorable little baby. Pippa - Louise just had to make it across the street with Betsy who was right beside her… or had been. The Little looks up just in time to see a flash of blonde disappear behind the Parkinson’s house and she’s gone. Then all of a sudden, church bells ring out through the air in a whimsical, melodic tone and she remembered why Betsy had left. That was the signal for escape because the dog would be scared inside by the noise like always and then Henry would come charging down the street on his tricycle leading the herd of Amazons on a goose chase, and the remaining four of them: Betsy, the Twins and Pippa - Louise would escape through the Parkinson’s disrepaired fence and over the hill. Henry would join once he escaped the Amazons and they’d disappear into the sunset to the land of big girls. That’s why she had to cross the street right now or it would be too late. She had to catch up with them because her sanity depended on it. However, when she tries to walk, something stops her. The ground had disappeared and her toes wiggle in the air. The Little looks around in shock to realize that she is still in the yard, the pot tipped over beside her and she’s laying down in the grass, legs splayed out at a ninety degree angle on her back. As her gaze settled above, she let out a gasp of wonder. Looking up at the sky, it is a color that she has never seen before. So blue, electric, the color of her Mommy’s eyes and the clouds are just as fluffy if not even more than the ones that consumed her lower half. Content to stay here forever, she knows that is not possible because the game is still ongoing. However, a moment to relax won’t hurt. She’ll get up soon, find the others and continue on their journey. At least that is what the Little told herself and her eyes flutter shut, wanting to relish in the way the sun kissed her cheeks on this warm summer Saturday afternoon. But, in the distance there is a screech, a loud crash and the sounds of wails. “Noooo! Please just let me go! I’m a big boy!” Smack! Smack! Smack! Little Henry sobs as his bottom is properly tanned. “That’s for losing Hide and Seek.” His Mommy chided. “Only immature Littles could get caught so easily. I think that means that Henry is more immature than we ever could have realized. Another year as Mommy’s baby is the only logical solution.” Oh yeah, that’s right. Pippa - Louise remembered the rules of the game stated that if the Littles made it out of the cul de sac, automatically they’d be granted their freedoms. However, none of the Littles really accounted for that in the history of the game, no one had ever escaped. Oopsie. Her eyes fluttered open and the intense blue sky had turned to two pairs of glimmering eyes and bosoms, probably the size of her diaper hung low. She squirmed as two hands placed beneath her arm pits shifted her into a sitting position. “Look who I found!” The thirteen foot Amazon gasped excitedly, tickling fingers beneath her armpits eliciting a round of giggles. Mommy. Blonde, blue eyed with a heart shaped face, they could be real mother and daughter if the Amazon was not so big and she was not so Little. “Is my darling girl tired from this silly game?” Tired? The Little frowned. No. That’s not what she was. The Little was far from tired. She just needed to find the others. Maybe this year she could win. Mommy had to know. “I need to find Betsy, Munchkin and Pumpkin,” Pippa - Louise tried to explain, blinking through her foggy mind. Her Mommy’s eyes were so blue… “Where would they be?” The Amazon asked with a smile and Pippa - Louise could have sworn her pearly white teeth shimmered in the light. The Little knows that their plan is top - secret and no one else could find out. But Mommy wasn't just anybody. She was Mommy! That meant it had to be okay because Mommy was great at keeping secrets like when she told her about Mr. Fluffers and Mrs. Floppy being secretly in love with each other but they didn’t know. That’s why Pippa - Louise was going to sit the two stuffed bunnies together at the tea party to bring them together. Oh! There was also the time at Daycare when Missy told her that at nighttime when her Mommy and Daddy were asleep, she liked to play with her itty bitty clitty but it was supposed to be a secret and no one could know. Pippa - Louise told Mommy and she promised not to say anything but the next day at Daycare, Missy had mittens on her hand and refused to talk to her. The Little was confused because Mommy had promised to keep her lips sealed and Mommy never broke her promises. That must mean someone else must have overheard them and Missy blamed Pippa - Louise. It was unfortunate, really, but it was okay because why did she need friends when she had her Mommy? “Darling…” a tickle beneath her chin drew her forward, leaning, leaning, leaning into the Amazon’s touch. The Little blinks. The fog was heavy in her mind, more so than usual. What were they doing? Mommy asks again, “can you tell Mommy where Betsy, Munchkin and Pumpkin are?” Oh, yes! She and Mommy were sharing secrets. The Little leans forward, lips pressed against the Amazon’s ear and whispers, “across the street, into the Parkinson’s yard, through the fence and over the hill.” OoOoo One year later came all too soon. It’s Saturday again, warm and sunny and the game has begun. Pippa - Louise is laying on her back, suckling hard on her paci as Mommy tugs at the straps around her upper stomach, right beneath the tiny bee stings she’d once called breasts. Tugging, tugging, tugging… “Ahah!” Mommy exclaims with glee when the tapes have finally held together. Her legs don’t even touch the changing table, the material too thick and monstrously big to allow any part of her lower body to have closure, now having puffed out to her ankles. But Pippa - Louise didn’t mind because life was so much better on her back with her legs spread without a care in the world. “Oh my baby is such a pretty girl, such a good girl, such an absolute super pooper!” Her bell-like voice cooed, floated through one ear and out the other. The fog was thick, clogging every nook and cranny in her tiny body but Louise didn’t know where else it had to go because every thick roll on her thighs and arms and chubby cheeks were consumed. Pippa - Louise giggles a distant and far away reaction, lips smacking together, spittle flying from her lips. She lifts her arms, reaching towards the Amazon’s voluminous breasts with eagerness. “Silly girl,” she squeezed her tummy. “Mommy thought it would be fun to have a picnic! Wouldn’t that be nice? Mommy knows how much you like to look at the sky.” It wasn’t that Pippa - Louise liked looking at the sky, she absolutely loved it. She especially loved the feeling of being on her backside, knowing Mommy was right there to roll her over anytime needed and to play with her and to feed her and sleep. It was the only way to be but the others just did not understand. “We can even watch your friends play Hide and Seek! Doesn’t that sound fun?” Friends? Oh, Pippa - Louise didn’t have any friends. Not after last year's game of Hide and Seek and what a funny concept… hiding, seeking, running. Littles didn’t run. Pippa - Louise couldn’t even walk let alone crawl. Why’d anyone want to play such a silly game? But there was a reason and it seemed to be why no one in the neighborhood would talk to her anymore. Play dates were awkward, hostile glares thrown her direction and so she’d play by herself, on her back shaking the rattle back and forth enchanted nonetheless, lost in the fog of her mind. As soon as they were inside the house, they are outside in a familiar spot, sitting on a red and white checkered blanket. A wicker basket sits at the feet of the Amazon which contains a cheese platter, crackers and fruits. Cradled back in the woman’s arms, the Little’s mouth waters as her belly grumbles for lunch. “Mommy!” Pippa - Louise whined, reaching with her hands. “Patient, my love.” Mommy kissed her forehead, reaching into the basket and plucking out a grape. The girl whined again, in desperation this time and - Ahhhh, she sighed. Finally. The firm, milky white breast popped out of the nursing bra, already leaking from fullness and the Little latches on. Suckling, slurping and gulping down the thick cream with greed, she takes all she can, welcoming the cloud of fog over her mind. A squeal sounds in the background and then a scream as one Little is caught and the rest will be soon to follow. Maybe next year she will play, Pippa - Louise thinks but then immediately pushes the thought from her mind. No way. Hide and Seek was a game for big girls. Not babies like her and she fills her diaper, a warm mudslide leaking out into her overly thick, very inconvenient, padded bottom. OoOoo Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here is a little diaper dimension one - shot I’ve had sitting in my drafts for an awhile! I have thousands more to post so stay tuned!

Author's Note: This story will be my submission into Kasarberang's non-con contest! I strongly encourage you to go to his original post to see the rules and get a better summary of the expected content of this story. This is just the start of this story, but I hope to have it finished by the deadline for the contest, if not that, then the majority will be written in accordance with the guidelines. This chapter will only have hints of what is to come, but it is very sexually graphic. Please take this as a warning to those who do not like that kind of thing. It will get worse. Heed all my tags as I will be tagging all the relevant things for this story all at once rather than as the story progresses. Please enjoy! Boss Baby or Boss' Baby? : Chapter 1 “Here you go, Baby,” Miss Tammy said sweetly. Jesse blinked as his focus on his computer was broken and turned to Miss Tammy to see her holding a small plate with two donuts stacked on top. The workday had just started and he’d been sending out a few follow-up emails from the previous day when Miss Tammy approached. Seeing that she had his attention, she continued speaking. “I bought donuts for the office but I wanted to make sure you had some while they were still warm,” She smiled and set the plate down on the edge of his desk. “I also grabbed some milk for you.” She put the small bottle of milk right beside the plate. “Eat up!” Jesse’s eyes lit up. He didn’t often have breakfast in the morning, but he’d devour anything given to him by Miss Tammy. Miss Tammy was the supervisor over the whole department. A woman of 35 (her birthday had just passed– They sang to her with cupcakes in the breakroom.) with a strict standard but soft heart. She could easily portray the tough boss aura, but that disappeared as soon as she slipped on her trademark black cardigan and red reading glasses. Said glasses were perched on top of her head, the stems hooked into locks of blonde hair tied in a bun so that they didn’t fall. She must have left her cardigan in her office, Jesse noted as he stood up to hug her in thanks. He was shorter than her on a good day, but now, with her wearing her standard black heels, she was tall enough to tuck his head under her chin and nearly inappropriately close to her bust. “Thank you, Miss Tammy!” Jesse smiled. “That was really sweet of you!” “Oh hush,” She giggled, squeezing Jesse firmly before letting him go. “You know you’re my favorite.” The wink she followed the statement with had him returning the laugh. It was a running joke in the office that Jesse was her favorite employee because of the way she constantly doted on him. Jesse summed it up to being the youngest worker on the floor at just 21 years old. The next person older was Samantha at 25. It didn’t hurt that he leaned into the presumed special treatment by calling her ‘Miss Tammy’. The name was a bastardization of ‘Tammy’ the nickname the other supervisors called her, and ‘Miss Tamera’ the respectful title used by the rest of the floor. The first time he’d used it was an accident, but the resulting coo and sincere hug encouraged him to keep it up. “Oh! Before I forget,” She snapped, suddenly reminding herself of something. Jesse had since sat down at his desk and paused with half a bite of sugary glazed donut stuck in his mouth. “We are doing drug tests later on today starting after lunch.” The words made Jesse’s stomach drop. “W-What?” He stuttered. Miss Tammy carried on as if she didn’t notice his hesitance. “You know how the janitors found weed stashed in the cleaning supplies closet?” She waited for his nod before speaking, leaning against the wall of his cubicle. “Well, I told John,” John Scott, who was her boss. “That none of my employees would ever bring something like that into the building. I even told him that it was probably one of the new janitors!” That led her to a laugh, head tossed back enough that she had to catch her red reading glasses before they fell from her head. “But he was insistent that everyone on the floor get drug tested. Even IT down the hall is getting it done,” She sighed. “Uh,” He wiped the crumbs from his lip, not feeling so hungry any longer. “What happens if someone…fails?” Miss Tammy’s face took on a sad look. “John says they’re getting fired, but if anyone on the floor tests positive, I’ll make my case for them. I love my team so far, I’d hate to see anyone go.” “Yeah,” Jesse cleared his throat after his voice cracked, taking a sip of milk to rinse his mouth. “That would be bad…” “Mhm,” Miss Tammy spared a distant look at him before coming back to her usual chipper self. “But keep that between us, okay, baby?” The pet name a joke just as his own for her. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.” “I will,” He assured, turning back to his computer. He nearly felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. “Thanks again for the donuts…” It’ll be the last donuts he ever receives from her, he’s sure. It wasn’t that he was a smoker. He wasn’t! It was just…a stupid party. That weekend was his brother Travis’ birthday and they’d all taken a camping trip to celebrate. It was a great time with swimming at the lake, roasting marshmallows, and grilling hot dogs that Jesse…well. The blunts were passed around before he could even register it. One ended up in his hand…Travis said he didn’t have to, of course, but the cajoling of his (older than Jesse) friends pressured him into taking a drag. The smoke was awful! Jesse was wheezing and almost felt like he would throw up, much to the amusement of the crowd. When the next blunt came around, he told himself he’d pass it down. But Amber, the friend of Travis’ girlfriend, grabbed him by the chin and shotgunned the smoke in the pantomime of a kiss into his mouth. The hoots and hollers of the crowd spurred him on passed the lesser coughs that came from the lungful. The rest of the night was spent in the company of family and friends alike. And each puff after was like riding a bike. It was the first time Jesse had ever been high…and it was the best weekend of his life so far. But now… He’d be fired! Dread settled so deep in his stomach that he couldn’t work on anything as the office slowly filled with people. Two hours passed, only one more til lunch and then his fate would be sealed. Jesse’s hands were clammy with sweat. Should he just leave? Pretend he was sick and go? That would only delay the inevitable. And Miss Tammy would know he was lying! She’d seen him just this morning. No…He had to tell her before it was too late. Honesty was the key. He wasn’t the one who left the weed in the closet, of course. She would know that! She’d believe his story and she already said she was willing to plead his case to John. Newly emboldened, Jesse shot out of his chair and nearly tripped over his wastebasket on his way to Miss Tammy’s office. He felt the sweat on his face cooling at his quick movements and didn’t even stop to think about what his coworkers would think. A few quick knocks on the cracked door and he barely waited for the “Come in!” before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. Miss Tammy sat at her desk, glasses perched low on her nose, and her eyes widened when she saw him. “Jesse? Are you alright?” She asked with full concern and turned her full attention to him. “Sit! You look like you’re going to be sick.” Jesse took the seat in front of her desk with slumped shoulders. “Miss Tammy I screwed up,” He said weakly. Tears rushed to his eyes as the events caught up with him. “Baby,” She said softly, her bracelet scratching lightly against the wooden desk as she leaned against it. “Talk to me, what has you all ruffled? Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s okay.” “It’s not!” Jesse gasped. “I’m gonna fail the drug test.” At the admission, he slumped forward with his elbows on his knees and sobbed. “I smoked this weekend. I’m going to fail! I’m so sorry!” “Woah,” She kept her calm tone, the sound of her chair rolling back cut through the air. “Take a breath, baby.” Her advice came soft as she walked around the desk. Jesse could see her bare feet where she’d taken off her heels in the privacy of her office. From the vantage point, he could also see a plastic wastebasket being positioned in front of him. If he finished those donuts, he most definitely would have been using it. A gentle hand rested between his shoulder blades and rubbed in circles soothingly. “Breath for me.” The breaths came shaky, but they helped slow the tears dribbling from his eyes and making dark spots on her grey carpet. Fuck, he was a mess. “I’m sorry,” He whispered again. “Don’t worry, baby,” She said immediately. “I don’t want to get fired!” He looked up finally, casting his blurry vision onto her face, mere inches away from his from where she leaned over. “I- I don’t smoke- It was just one time!” “I know,” She nodded. “I know you don’t smoke. You said it was a party. These things happen-” “I’m so sorry-” “I’m not angry with you,” She said for the first time in a firm tone, her brows furrowed and lips pursed. “I’m not, baby. I’m just worried you’ve worked yourself into this state.” Jesse’s lip quivered again and he watched her reach over her desk for a tissue. His hand reached up to receive it but was ignored in favor of her dabbing at his wet cheeks. His vision cleared up and to avoid meeting her analytic eyes, he stared ahead, only to flinch as he was rewarded with a view of her breasts. The seam of her bra was just visible in her hunched-over position. It felt like too long had passed before he realized he was looking down his boss’ blouse and his head jerked back up to look at her face, expecting disgust. But there was none. She was carefully mopping at his eyes to avoid poking him and pressed the tissue to his nose. “Blow.” Instinct took over and he blew into it, only feeling embarrassment at his own actions after she cleaned up his nose and tossed the tissue into the wastebasket. “Are you calm now?” She asked, positioning her hands on her knees and Jesse had to force himself not to peek back down at her cleavage. “Yes, Ma’am,” He nodded. “Good boy,” She purred. “Now come here.” Jesse found himself standing from his seat and being led around the desk to where Miss Tammy settled down in her own chair. He could see her heels tucked neatly under the desk and traced the path to her bare feet, up her shapely legs, to her her knees where her skirt was rucked almost too far up her thighs, and- Christ. At this angle he was able to see her breasts even better. The hem of her bra definitely peaking from the dip of her shirt now. Meeting her eyes, he blushed, seemingly caught. “You’ve been naughty this weekend,” She said with a sigh, one leg coming up to daintily cross over the other. “We have to figure out what to do about that.” Jesse frowned, worry creeping in. “I’m-” “Uh uh!” She tsked. “I’m talking, you listen. Understood?” “Yes, Ma’am.” Jesse nodded immediately. “Good boy,” The praise lifted his heart from where it seemed to have fallen right to the basement. “So,” She continued. “You were very naughty this weekend. You told me you were going to your brother’s birthday party, correct?” “Yes, Ma’am,” Jesse fought off the urge to elaborate. “And at this party you smoked weed,” Jesse’s eyes ducked to his feet guiltily. “And now I need to find a way to keep John from firing you.” “...Yes, Ma’am.” “Well, it’s a good thing you’re my favorite. Isn’t it, baby?” She chuckled. Hopefully, Jesse met her eyes, seeing a mischievous look peeking up from the rim of her glasses. A few seconds passed and he realized she was waiting for an answer. “Yes, Ma’am.” He found himself meeting that look with a small smile. “Now,” She rotated slightly back and forth in her seat. “I know how to save your job…but about what you can do for me as repayment.” Jesse blinked in surprise. Seconds ago, it felt as though his job hung by a thread. But now here he was with the reassurance he’d keep his job. Only with the added mystery of suddenly being indebted to Miss Tammy. Never did she ask for repayment for things. Whenever he tried to pass her money for the treats and things she’d give him, she always refused. But…he reasoned, she was saving his job. “I’ll do anything.” He swore. “Anything you want.” “Oh baby,” She laughed warmly. “You don’t want to tell me that.” “But I do,” He assured, crouching down, hell, nearly kneeling at her feet just to look up into her eyes. “You’ve done so much for me. You didn’t even have to tell me about the drug tests but you did. And- And,” He stuttered. “You’ve always treated me nicely. I’ll do anything to repay you for saving my job.” Her lips pursed in thought. “Anything?” “Yes! I’ll detail your car! Or pick up your dry cleaning! Hell, I’d scrub the floors of your house with my toothbrush if you asked me to,” He laughed at the image in his brain of him hunched fetal on what he imagined to be her kitchen floor. A flush overtook his face as he thought of her standing right in front of him. Towering and demanding as he worked hard to please her. “Take your pants off,” The words cut through his imagination. “What?” He asked, seeing her strict look once more on her face. “I said,” She spoke clearly but it might as well have been a yell in the quiet office. “Take. Your pants. Off.” Mouth suddenly dry, Jesse stood up. Was this really happening? It was a plot out of a bad porno, he was sure. He was dreaming! No way was his attractive boss demanding he take his pants off in response to her saving his job. “Well,” She quirked a brow and nodded to his belt. “Are you going to do it, or do I need to call John down here to start working on termination paperwork.” Jesse’s hands were on his belt the next second. His fingers shook as they fiddled with the loops and his cock already started to harden in his boxers. “M-Ma’am, Are we going to-” His question was halted as she suddenly shot forward and smacked his hands away from his belt. Her perfectly manicured fingers pulled at the belt until it dangled open. His pants slackened slightly on his hips. She didn’t stop there, unbuttoning his pants and sliding his fly down with ease. The pants pooled on the floor, his tented boxers left to hide his dick from his boss’ view. Her severe look didn’t change as she looked from his crotch to his face. Her legs uncrossed and her thighs parted. The skirt she wore rode higher on her thighs until he could almost see what color panties she wore. “Come here.” Jesse didn’t need to be told twice as he stepped into the space left between her thighs. His cock brushed against her skirt and would have left a smear of pre-cum had it not already been soaked up by his boxers. Jesse ducked his head to meet her lips, but found himself suddenly knocked off balance and turning. His fall was caught by the hard wooden desk and a firm hand came to press down on his spine to keep him from getting back up. “T-Tamera?” He asked in confusion only to feel a sudden sting radiate from his backside that startled a yelp out of him. His knees went weak but his weight was supported by the desk and hand holding him to it. “What did you just call me?” He heard Miss Tammy’s voice seethe in his ear. “Tamera?” Another sting brought out a hiss of pain. “Fuck!” Another SWAT. And he suddenly realized what was happening. He was being spanked! “Don’t you swear at me, boy!” Miss Tammy scolded. “You come into my office and beg me to save your naughty ass, you don’t get to swear at me.” “I’m sorry, Miss Tammy!” He gasped and yelped at another SWAT as it descended. The pain was fierce now. A sharp throb in his ass cheeks as she had been alternating which one she hit. “You’ve lost that privilege to, naughty little boy!” “Please!” He gasped as three spanks rained on his ass. How a hand as gentle and small as hers could create such force, he wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry!” “Tell Mommy how sorry you are,” Miss Tammy sneered. “Tell Mommy!” “I’m so sorry-” Three more spanks and Jesse felt his legs dance in place on the carpet. “Mommy!” The word was startled out of him as quickly as the blows stopped. A whimper tumbled from his lips as he anticipated another that didn’t come. “Say it again,” Miss Tammy’s gentle voice came once more. “Tell Mommy how sorry you are for being a naughty boy.” “I’m so sorry, Mommy,” Jesse’s lip quivered and he found himself dangerously close to tears once more. Air brushed against his red-hot ass and he rushed to continue before the blow came. “I’m sorry for being a naughty boy, Mommy!” “That’s better,” She sighed and the firm hand on his back loosened. He didn’t dare move though. “You like being my good boy, yeah?” “Yes, Mommy,” Jesse nodded, his hot face gaining relief from the cold surface of the desk. The hand on his back lifted and Jesse heard her sit back down. “Come here, baby.” Standing up and turning around, Jesse’s gaze dropped to Miss Tammy’s crotch. He had no idea when she’d taken her skirt off, but it lay on the floor near his pants. Her red lace panties were out on display for him to see. His eyes jumped from her pussy lips peaking from the thin fabric to her eyes staring at him intently. The red of her panties matched the red of her glasses, he realized. “Kneel right here for Mommy,” She pointed right between her legs and Jesse didn’t even register the burn of the carpet on his bare knees as he complied. This close, he could see where he slick was darkening the crotch of her panties. Could practically smell her arousal. His dick, having softened rapidly at the spanking, thickened up despite the residual throbs of his ass. “You took your punishment like a good little boy,” She commented and his eyes darted back up to see her smirking. Her thighs parted just a little more and her back bowed to push her hips closer to the edge of the chair. “Does baby like what he sees?” “Yes, Mommy,” Jesse nodded. Licking his lips. He could count on one hand the number of women he’d been with. And the things he did with them were mounting up to be laughably vanilla in comparison to this roleplay. He couldn’t say it wasn’t exciting even with how confusing it was. “Well,” She sighed and pushed her hips forward again. “Go on.” Needing no other invitation, Jesse found himself devouring the feast right in front of him. He pulled her panties to the side and with what he lacked in experience, he hoped he made up for in eagerness. Miss Tammy’s legs came to rest on his shoulders and her hand tangled in his hair. He didn’t know how long he ate her out, but he did so feverishly, chasing the slick from between her lips to the bud of her clit. Occasionally, he’d secure his lips in a suck around it, earning a sharp tug of his hair and an appreciative moan from Miss Tammy- Mommy. “Mommy’s gonna cum, baby,” She panted. If possible, Jesse redoubled his efforts. Digging his tongue deep into her folds til his chin was covered in her taste, he couldn’t help a mirrored moan with her as she pulled him close through her trembling orgasm. Jesse didn’t stop until the hand in his hair was pulling him away from her twitching cunt instead of closer. Her knees trembled on his shoulders. Rocking his own hips forward, Jesse felt his cock was begging for attention in his boxers. But when his hand reached down from where it rested against the outside of Mommy’s- Miss Tammy’s thigh to stroke himself off, her hand tightened in his hair once more. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?” She scolded breathlessly. “N-No, Mommy,” Jesse whimpered, hand coming back to rest on her thigh. “That’s right,” She nodded and slowly slid her legs off his shoulder. She reached over and slid open her side desk drawer and pulled out a package of baby wipes. “Bring me my trashcan.” Slowly, Jesse stood up from his kneeled position and retrieved the wastebasket on the other side of the desk. Miss Tammy was using the baby wipes to wipe her pussy lips down and had since slipped her panties off. The panties remained in her hand when she tossed the wipes in the trash and she reached for his boxers. Thinking it was his turn to cum, Jesse helped her by shimmying them off, awkwardly pulling the fabric down past his shoes. He didn’t expect Miss Tammy to hold out her damp panties for him to step into, but when he looked into her eyes, she wasn’t bluffing. As he thought before, a seriously weird roleplay. But he couldn’t deny it was pretty hot. Before the panties were pulled up to his crotch, Jesse gasped as a cold wipe was pressed against his hard-on. “That’s it,” Miss Tammy smirked. “Shrink back down.” It took a few cold wipes before his dick was soft once more, although the thrum of arousal was still present. She pulled her panties up his thigh, his dick actually fitting in the small pocket in the front, although the fabric slid up the crack of his ass uncomfortably. “Put your pants back on.” She demanded. Jesse turned around, receiving a playful swat to his aching backside, and grabbed his pants from the floor. Miss Tammy helped him button and zip his pants and secure his belt once more. “Those will stay on for the rest of the day and you will come to my home instead of yours after work, understood?” “Yes, Ma’am,” Jesse spoke softly. “It’s Mommy whenever it’s just you and I,” She informed. “Understood?” “Yes, Mommy,” Jesse corrected and watched her slip her skirt back on and rebutton her blouse to hide her bra- wait…had she done that on purpose? “You’re free to return to work, baby,” She said in her usual professional tone. “Go on.” Jesse was stunned. That was it? Miss Tammy made a shooing motion with her hand and Jesse slowly shuffled to the door, the fabric of her panties digging into his skin teasingly. “See you tonight…Mommy,” He muttered and dipped out of the room. Taking a detour to the bathroom, not to take off the panties, but to fix his hair and wipe the cum from his lips. Just what did he get himself into?

This story was written for @kasarberang's 4th story non-con-test. I do have to say that this is fantasy. It was written specifically to the terms of the contest, and contains actions, themes, and ideas that I in no way support, condone, or suggest in real life. Read at your own risk. "In the embrace of stillness, I find myself tethered to this sacred ground, a captive of my own heart's desire. Here I remain, suspended in time, waiting for the gentle touch of fate to guide my true love to me. Until she arrives, illuminating the shadows of my soul and revealing the depths that lie within, I cannot take flight. It is her presence alone that can set me free, transforming my quiet longing into a vibrant reality; I belong to her, and she shall claim me as her own, entwining our destinies as one." Oh. Shit. The garage door was opening. I pulled at my wrist, but I knew the ice lock had at least another hour. Shit shit shit. I kept pulling, trying to think of a way to escape the bondage that I had put myself in, but I had been pretty thorough. The cuffs were locked to the straps, and I couldn’t release the cuff itself with my hand in it. The cuffs on my wrists and ankles held fast, and until that ice lock melted I couldn’t release the cuffs on my wrists. I heard the door downstairs open, and close. I heard her call from downstairs. “Honey, are you there?” Maybe she had just forgotten something, and if I was quiet she’d assume I was out exercising or something, grab what she needed, and then leave. Maybe. I tried to use my restrained hand to pull some of the top sheet, which was off to the side, over me. Maybe I could at least cover the diaper I was wearing. I could barely reach the sheet, though, and efforts to pull it were fruitless. I was still just laying there, my choice of the last Princess Pink diaper from the sample pack I had coming back to haunt me in a big way. I tried to sit up and could see the suitcase open on the other side of the room, the items I had hidden away mockingly highlighted in a beam of sun through a window. “Honey?” I could hear her coming up the stairs. “My sister is here! Are you in the shower?” Her sister was here? My mind froze. The worst case had gone from embarrassment in front of my wife to far, far worse. Her sister didn’t like me. No, it was way beyond, “didn’t like”. Her sister despised me. Her sister thought that my wife could have done much, much better than me, and did everything she could to point out all my weaknesses, faults, and misdeeds as loudly and often as she could to anyone who would listen, seemingly ignoring the fact that my wife and I have been married for five years and are very happy together. She was, frankly, a bitch, and her consistent criticism of me had definitely driven a wedge between the siblings. So why was she here now? If her sister came in and saw me like this, it was game over. I needed to try to minimize the damage. And minimizing the damage meant that only my wife saw me like this. “Ah, Jenn? Could you come into the bedroom? Just you?” “You’re in the bedroom, Greg?” “Yeah. Please come in. Just you.” The door opened.

Hi guys! Here's my story for the The 4th Kasarberang Story Contest! The NON-CONtest #4 The story follows Emily, a young and chaotic woman who had recently began to work in a tech company. There, she meets David, the head of Software Development. He's cute and shy and lonely. Everything Emily's been looking for in a man...well, in her future adult baby. The story contains unwilling/forced regression, breastfedding, messy accidents, cum milking, and more. Hope you enjoy! PS: The story is already been completed. But I leave the ending open in case I might want to revisit the character for a sequel. David's Unwilling Regression Emily couldn’t stop looking through the window. The view from the Human Resources office was impressive, with skyscrapers rising almost as tall as the one she found herself in. Why had Sarah called her in? At twenty-four, Emily had never really gotten in trouble before. She had a sweet face, the kind that made people feel comfortable around her. With her bubbly disposition and pinkish hair, she was able to charm her way out of most situations. Many would describe Emily as wholesome if only they knew. The door opened suddenly. "Emily Andrews, right?" asked a stern female voice. Emily turned. Sarah was looking at her through thick-rimmed glasses, her short blonde hair perfectly styled, her navy-blue blazer impeccably tailored. Although she was over twenty years older than Emily, Sarah didn't look older than thirty-five even if she was closer to fifty. "That's right," Emily said, “Morning, ma’am.” There was a moment of silence before Sarah spoke. "Please take a seat," said Sarah with an air of superiority in her voice. If there was something Emily hated the most, it was pretentious people who thought they were better than her. "Do you know why you were called here?" asked Sarah, once again, in a tone of superiority that Emily couldn’t stand. At that moment, the young woman made a mental note. After David, she would help Sarah rediscover her babyhood. The thought of them sleeping together in a crib was exciting. "I assume it is about David," said Emily. "Indeed." “David Carter was our head of software development. That’s an important position in a tech company.” “Excuse me, ma’am. But can you be more straightforward? I don’t need to be told about David’s…I mean…Mr. Carter’s resume,” Emily said, knowing quite well now why she was there. It wasn't every day that the head of Human Resources had to deal with an employee's potty accident. It had only taken Emily a month to turn David from a shy boss to a cute diapered boy, and she couldn’t be more proud of herself. From the very first moment she saw him, Emily knew it was meant to be. There he was, walking with his perfectly ironed suit and tie, trying hard to command respect. She had started working at the company as the new social media manager that week. Twenty-four and ambitious, she couldn't help but notice David's boyish look. Although he was well in his thirties, David still had that baby fat around his cheeks that made him look so cute. She had never told anyone, but ever since she could remember, she had imagined herself as someone's Mommy. It clicked then, when she first saw David, that he was perfect for the role. "Apparently these bathroom accidents…" Sarah paused and Emily had to force herself not to chuckle, "...started when you began working here. That's what his co-workers assume. Of course, no one in their right mind would think you had anything to do with it, right?" Emily smirked, "I might've been an enabler. But it was not my doing." "Enabler?" "You see, David, he had never really liked the idea of being an adult." "Excuse me, can you repeat that?" "Well, when we started talking, it came out that he had a thing for feeling small. If you know what I mean..." "Feeling small?" asked Sarah incredulously. "You see, David seems to like to be treated like, well, like a baby. And I'm afraid I may have encouraged that." "You mean..." "Diapers, onesies, bottles. You know, that sort." "How? How did you encourage something like that?" asked Sarah, and Emily could see genuine curiosity behind her eyes. Emily smiled with mischief behind her eyes. Chapter One During Emily's first day at her new job, she had noticed a man in his thirties often alone. He was cute and she couldn't stop thinking about him wearing a diaper and begging for Mommy's breasts. So one day, she sat at the same table where David was eating a burger and fries. The poor man was so confused when Emily smiled at him and asked him about his day. It was as if something lit up behind his eyes. Boys, after all, felt lonely most of the time. Emily hated that. In her mind, if she could diaper them all and make them feel special, she would. They talked about his work, and when that was over, she turned the conversation to video games and movies. It was so cute to see him so happy about his PS5 and his computer, which he had built himself, mind you... After that first day, Emily would sit with David every day for lunch, and they would talk the entire time. Once she had his trust and attention, Emily decided she needed to begin the next stage of her plan. “So, David,” she told him with a flirtatious smile, “I’ve noticed you don’t drink enough water throughout the day.” David blushed, “I’m not a big fan of water.” “But it’s so important to remain hydrated.” “I know, but…” She placed her hands on his, “Look, we are friends, right?” David nodded. "Then let me help you." David's eyes lit up. Of course, this little boy would feel special with Mommy's gentle touch. Even if he didn't know Emily was his Mommy yet. Perhaps it had been a long time since someone showed him this kind of attention. “I don’t know…” “Our offices are not that far, right? Tell you what, I’ll be dropping by every now and then with water for you.” “You will?” “And I swear it’s not just an excuse to visit you, silly.” She gave him a wink. True to her word, Emily would visit David's office every day with a bottle of water. Sometimes, she would even go twice a day. Of course, she knew there was no way David would have a potty accident just by drinking lots of water. But thanks to this new routine, she spotted him rushing to the bathroom more often. It was time for the next phase of her plan. A simple, yet strong diuretic in David’s water was all she needed. “So, how have you been?” asked Emily that day, entering David’s office. “Oh, hi Emily. Just had a lot of work, I’m sorry I can’t give you much time today. There’s a big meeting in thirty minutes.” “No worries. I just came to make sure you keep yourself hydrated and wish you luck.” “You can leave the water over my desk.” “No Mr. I ain’t leaving until I see you drink it. You know the drill.” “It’s really not a good time…” “No buts.” “Emily, please. I don’t want to be rude.” But Emily wasn’t going to accept a no for an answer. She pressed and pressed until David agreed. He drank as much water as he could just to send Emily away. “See you at lunch?” asked Emily. David nodded and went back to his work, feeling a bit overwhelmed by Emily's insistence but also touched by her concern. Emily left shortly after, but her eyes were glued to David’s office. It would be a stroke of luck if his first potty accident was in front of everyone. One by one, people entered the office. That must’ve been the meeting David was talking about and a sadistic smile formed on her face. She waited patiently for a minute, then ten, then almost thirty minutes when the door broke open, and David rushed out in desperation. Of course, Emily followed him. A sobbing little mess welcomed her in the bathroom. Emily had to act as if it had been a surprise. “David? Is that you? What happened?” David didn’t answer. "David?" He just kept sobbing, overwhelmed with humiliation and shame. Emily had to fight a smile as she saw just how wet David was. She kneeled next to him, “Look, it’s an accident. It can happen to anyone.” “But I’m an adult,” said David in between sobs. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. “Adults can have accidents too. Why don’t you leave work early today? Go back to your place and get yourself clean. How’s that sound?” Patience was key, and even if she wanted to get him clean herself, she knew she couldn't. She couldn’t just take him by the hand and diaper him just yet. Not yet… “But my meeting…” “I’ll make an excuse for you. Just get to your car. Okay?” David nodded, feeling grateful for Emily's understanding. “But how am I going to get to the parking lot like this?” “Your pants are dark enough that it shouldn’t notice too much. Just walk fast and don’t stop, alright?” David nodded again. After that first incident, Emily just needed to be consistent. It happened again, and again. To the point that she started carrying new pants and underwear for David in case he had an accident. Finally, when it happened for the tenth time, she made her move. “Listen, David…” she started as she walked into his office, closing the door behind her, “I think we should have a talk…” “About?” “About your little issue…” David blushed. He had tried everything to stop these accidents, but nothing seemed to work. “Oh. I’m sorry about that. But the doctor told me there’s nothing wrong with me, so it might be just stress. That’s why I’ve been meditating and doing yoga and…” “That’s wonderful, but I don’t think it’s healthy for you to be peeing yourself all the time. And don’t get me wrong, you’re a great guy and I don’t mind helping you when it happens. But you’re a boss here, and if people find out…” David blushed even redder, “They can’t...” "And they won't. I promise. But we need to do something." "I don't know what else to do." "Well, have you thought about protection?" Emily thought David couldn't go any redder. She was wrong. "What do you mean by protection?" Emily explained her idea, and of course, David hated it at first. But that's why patience pays off. She simply had to point out every accident he had had in the last few weeks and just how difficult it had gotten to keep it a secret from everyone in the company. "But diapers are for babies..." "Then why do they make adult diapers?" asked Emily and David had no answer for that question. There was a moment of silence before he agreed to it. "Great," said Emily, closing the door to David's office so that no one could come in or see what would happen inside. "Let's start now. Okay?" "Now now?" "Yes..." said Emily, and she pulled a large white diaper from her backpack. "I don't know your size, but I think this one should do the trick." David blushed. "What are you doing?!" he asked when Emily stripped him of his pants and underwear. "Shhh," she said, "Or people will get suspicious." "But..." "Do you know how to put one yourself?" she asked, now getting impatient. And perhaps David felt that shift in her energy because he simply shook his head and looked down. Gently, Emily laid David over a changing mat she had procured from her backpack. The poor boss didn't know what to say or how to resist, so he just went along with it. Emily took the diaper and opened it, placing the soft, white padding against David's skin. For David, the whole process felt peculiar, but not unpleasant. He was too overwhelmed to express himself, and Emily noticed it. "We'll take it one step at a time," she told him, "Is that okay?" David nodded. "Good, now put your pants on. And if you need a change, just come to me..." "A change?" "Well, it's bound to happen. And I don't trust you to change yourself, Mr. Potty Pants. Besides, we want to avoid leaks, right?" David blushed and Emily smiled inside. It had begun, and David's regression would not stop. Soon, she will have him incontinent and docile. He would beg her to move in with him and then that would be it, David would be hers forever. Chapter Two David's first week back in diapers was full of surprises. The very first moment the thick padding touched his skin had been full of emotions he couldn't understand. Yes, there was shame in the mix, but also a sense of comfort he hadn't known before. It was strange, and Emily was strange. What had begun as mere friendship had turned into a bizarre dynamic he both hated and craved. Emily would come to his office at least twice a day to check his diaper. Often, she would do it when there was no one. One time, however, Emily did it right in front of David's assistant, Madeline. Cute girl a bit older than Emily herself. David turned as red as a tomato as he felt Emily's fingers against the waistband of his diaper. "All dry," said Emily, "Good job." "What's going on?" asked Madeline, fighting a giggle, "Boss?" "It's just a joke we have," said David, blushing. "Yeah," said Emily, chuckling, "Just a joke." Madeline didn't seem convinced, but she didn't press the matter. David could feel her eyes on him as he returned to his work, but the week continued with no other incidents until his second meeting on a Friday afternoon. He couldn't concentrate on anything but a strange, unsettling sensation that had begun to build in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't long before he found himself making excuses to leave the conference room and rush to the bathroom. The shame of pooping himself while everyone around him was discussing financial projections was overwhelming. It made him feel like a little boy in kindergarten instead of the big boss he really was. He made it to the bathroom... But it was too late by the time he pulled his pants down. Right there, his bowels let loose, filling every inch of his diaper. Speechless, David couldn't do anything but move around to allow the mess to spread equally. The sensation was even stronger than whenever he peed himself; when it was over, he couldn't help but sob a little as he realized what he had done. Those shameful tears were met with Emily’s gentle hand stroking his arm. "Shh, it's okay," she said softly. "Now tell me, what's that smell?" David wrinkled his nose, knowing quite well what that smell was. "I... I had an accident." He felt so tiny under Emily's watchful gaze, and the fact that she saw him in this vulnerable state made him squirm. Yet, instead of scolding him or making a snide remark, Emily gently patted his arm as if to comfort him. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered soothingly, "That's why diapers are so perfect for you. As soon as I change you into a fresh one, we will forget this ever happened." For a second, David's shame faded. Was Emily for real? Did she truly didn't care about the mess he had just made? He didn't need an answer. The young woman locked the bathroom door and procured a changing mat, changing supplies, and another diaper from her bag. "Don't worry. I'm here for you..." said Emily as David tried to complain. "But I'm not a baby..." If he wasn't one, he sure made a good impression of a toddler in need of his Mommy. Emily cleaned him thoroughly before applying some baby powder all over his private parts and locking him back in a diaper. "See? All clean and ready to keep going with your day." She tap-tapped his fresh diaper with a satisfied smile. "You know I've been thinking...maybe we can hang out outside of this work environment one day. you could show me your video games if you want." David gulped, his heart racing at the thought of having a girl over. It had not happened in a while, and he wasn't sure if it would be a good idea. But Emily had been so caring and understanding...the least he could do was accept. "Great! I'll see you after work later." "You mean tonight?" "Of course, you silly." As Emily walked out of the bathroom, she chuckled to herself. It would happen soon. She only needed to push a few more boundaries and David would become hers. He didn't know it, but with his first messy accident, David had practically sealed his fate. No protests. No nothing. He had allowed her to take full control and it was all due to patience. That night, they met in the parking lot and used David's car to get to his home. Emily, ever-assertive, insisted on driving despite David's attempt to take the wheel. It was a beautiful summer evening, and their destination, David's spacious modern apartment, was only a few miles away. "Before we start, are you in need of a change?" Blushing, David shook his head. "Well, I'm not sure you can be trusted with that, though. Why don't you remove your pants?" "What?! "You heard me..." "I'm not doing that." "I'm not starting the car until you do." "But..." "I can't believe it," said Emily, playing her part masterfully, "After everything I've done for you..." She opened the door of the car and was about ready to leave when David stopped her. "Wait...I'll do it." "Really?" He nodded. "No one will see. But it will help know when you need a change." David blushed as he removed his pants. The drive to David's home was fast. Emily could barely focus on anything besides the sight of the growing bulge in David's diaper. She felt an inexplicable mix of excitement and awe. It was obvious to her that David couldn't think about anything else but his current situation. He even peed himself a little and blushed when he did because Emily saw the entire thing happen. "Ow, that's okay. That's what diapers are for." David blushed and looked away. "I don't mind. I don't mind at all." "But why? I'm an adult. I'm older than you. I shouldn't be..." he paused, "But you are, and I don't mind. Isn't that enough?" He blushed once more, looking so cute Emily couldn't think of anything but grab his wet diapered crotch and kiss him. "Do you really like me?" "More than you think." Once they arrived, Emily parked the car in an underground garage and led David to the elevator. David followed her silently, wondering what Emily had in store for him. He was already nervous, but her mere presence made him feel oddly tranquil as though everything would be fine. When they reached his apartment, she walked directly to the living room and placed her bag on the coffee table. She looked around and did a quick scan of the room. It was done in neutral colors with a sofa and an armchair in front of a TV stand that seemed almost too big for the room. "Sit with me," said Emily, pulling David over her lap. She unbuttoned his dress shirt slowly, exposing his smooth, pale skin. For a moment, it felt like she was peeling away a layer that had kept him hidden for far too long. Her fingers traced the ridges of his spine down to his lower back, and she gently tugged on the waistband of his diaper. "Emily... I don't think..." David trailed off. He wanted to resist, to stand up and take control. But he didn't... Here he was, an adult, sitting over a young woman's lap while he wore nothing but a used diaper. It would be a humiliating moment, if not for the fact that Emily didn't seem to be bothered by it. If anything, she was quite interested in touching his diaper whenever possible. That's why David did nothing when she first touched his padded crotch. He didn't even flinch as Emily'd soft fingertips caressed the barrier between his legs, tracing the contours of his diaper. "Wait..." "Shhh..." said Emily as with her free hand, she placed her thumb inside his mouth. "Suck on this." David hesitated for a moment but did as he was told. He sucked as Emily rubbed the front of his wet padding, and as he increased the rhythm of his sucking, Emily rubbed faster. It didn't take much longer for David to cum inside his wet prison as he did, he began sobbing. "Good boy," she whispered, kissing him gently. "That's okay. You did okay." The shame of what he did combined with the pleasure of it all broke him for a minute. And when he came back to reality, Emily had already changed him into a fresh new diaper. She gave him a small smile and a reassuring pat on the backside before helping him stand up. He blushed as he did. Emily chuckled at his embarrassment but didn't say anything. Instead, she walked over to his kitchen a poured herself a glass of wine. "I think we should have a little talk..." said Emily. David didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. "I've been thinking for a while now. It doesn't really seem like you are getting better with your potty accidents." she paused to notice David blushing when she called her incident potty accidents, "Don't get me wrong. Don't panic. I truly don't care. In fact, I kinda enjoy changing your stinky diaper today. So I've been thinking that you and I should date. What do you think? Do you want to be my boyfriend?" David was confused. The conversation had turned out to be something he wasn't expecting at all. He wondered if he had misheard her, but Emily's gaze was earnest. She sat there, waiting for his answer, so he swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly nodded. "But Emily, I'm an incontinent almost-middle-aged man in diapers. Why me?" Emily chuckled softly. "Because I like you, you silly baby. I don't mind changing your diapers. However, there's one thing I want from you if we start dating." "What's that?" "I'm the one that changes your diapers, that puts me in charge of you. So, I want to be fully in charge." "What do you mean?" "As long as we are together, I wear the pants in the relationship; you, well, you wear the diapers." David blushed. "So, what do you say?" asked Emily, "Would you like to be my baby boyfriend?" Chapter Three Emily had made it clear that David wasn't in charge anymore at least not outside his role in the company. So when David accepted her offer and became her boyfriend, things changed rather quickly. It started with small things, like choosing his wardrobe for the day or deciding what he would eat; even how much time he had for playing video games after work. She had even taken over the spare room, "I'm only doing a minor remodeling. It will be a surprise," she told him one day. As for David, he was completely under her control at home and in the office. "Now, who needs a change?" Emily would ask every single time and David would blush and answer, "Me." That was his favorite part, diaper changes. It had become a ritual for the two of them. Every time, Emily would gently clean every inch of his diaper area, and when she was over, she would give her baby boy a treat. With her gentle fingers, she would often massage David's prostate, milking him into submission. It was all part of her plan, though. Soon David would associate diapers and Emily with sexual pleasure. It had all worked out, and David was ready for the final stage of her plan. The moment when he would choose to be a diapered baby instead of a man. One morning, after getting David ready for work, Emily gave her baby boy a bottle of milk with something extra. A subtle yet powerful laxative. David didn't protest or argue, he simply drank the bottle full of milk and they were on their way to work. It was an important day for David, he was to make a presentation for the CEO and he was ready and determined to show his skills and talents. Emily found it cute and wholesome, and she would tease him about it. "Well, good luck. And if you need me to change you after your presentation, I'll be in your office." David blushed and said, "Thanks..." Soon, David found himself in the conference room. A fresh diaper under his suit made him feel secure that he would nail that presentation. But as he faced the CEO and his coworkers, David felt a mix of anxiety and horror when his tummy let out a loud grumble. The women present giggled at it, which only served to make David blush. "We are waiting for you, David," said the CEO, a woman of his age with a kind face but David knew she was anything but kind. "Right..." he stuttered. David felt the pressure building in his abdomen as he tried to keep his composure. He couldn't focus on his presentation, and instead of giving his best, he was just trying to keep it all together. The CEO cleared his throat, and David felt his heart race. With trembling hands, he continued his presentation, but the pressure in his abdomen only increased. It was impossible to ignore the sensation as his stomach rumbled again. This time, the women in the room couldn't hold back their laughter, and it took every ounce of restraint for David not to run out of the room. "Are you alright, David?" asked the CEO, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm just a little nervous," David replied, trying to regain control of the situation. "Pull it together. Jesus Christ, you're a man. If you need to use the restroom just go." said the CEO, glaring at David. But just as he was about to continue, his stomach rumbled one last time. As far as he was concerned, that was it. David stood there as he filled his diaper with the most explosive diarrhea ever. It was a forceful release that made him blush from head to toe. Then...silence...and all of a sudden laughter, echoing through every corner of the room. The CEO's eyes widened, and she covered her face with her hand. Heat surged through David's cheeks as he felt every ounce of his dignity and authority draining away. Looks Like the Baby's Made a Messy. Someone Clena Him, it Stinks In Here. Pathetic. And those were just some of the words David could hear as he remained speechless and immobile. "Fuck's sake. Who thought you were a good fit for this company?" asked the CEO with a harsh and severe tone. "Get the fuck out of my sight." David nodded, but as he moved, his pants gave away, falling to the ground, revealing his completely messed diaper. Now even the CEO was laughing, and David started sobbing, craving for the comfort of Emily's arms. It was the most humiliated he had ever been... Something broke inside David that day. After Emily found him, she took him back home in his messy diaper and shirt, exposing him further to everyone in the office as they walked to the parking lot. David was sobbing and looking down, allowing himself to be dragged by his younger girlfriend. As they walked, people muttered and whispered and pointed and laughed. For David, it was the worst moment in his life. For Emily, it was the beginning of the life she had always wanted. Back at home, Emily cleaned her adult baby boy. "Honey, I think you're not ready to be an adult yet...." she said, and David didn't argue. "From now on, I'm taking care of your every need. Understood?" David said nothing. "Good. Let's put you for a nap. You must be exhausted from this horrible experience." She took him to the spare bedroom, where she had already set up a changing table, a crib big enough for him, and downs of other baby items. Once again, David said nothing. He just allowed Emily to place him inside the crib as she kissed him goodnight and gave him a pacifier. That was it for David. He never recovered from the humiliation. Emily insisted he should forget about work and stay with her. That she could provide for the two of them and he didn't need any more responsibilities. David never again spoke and he would often find himself zoning out as he played with toys and watched cartoons. It was a few days later that Emily was called to the Human Resources office. Sarah was speechless as Emily told her the lie about how David had asked, even begged, to be put in diapers. How she had found it cute back then and agreed, and then she said, He now lives a very happy life. I can show you some pictures," “I don’t think that would be appropriate,” said Sarah, who for some reason, couldn’t look at Emily in the eyes. “I must assume that he won’t be coming back to work.” “I mean, I could bring him here. But he gets bored very easily now and the office doesn’t offer a nursery area or babysitters. But if you really are worried, why don’t you come with me? I bet he would love to see a friendly face.” Emily said to Sarah, planning, even then, for a baby sister for her baby boy. Sarah blushed, "Really?" Emily smiled at Sarah with malice behind her eyes. Unknown to the older woman, Emily had already started her plan to regress her from the Head of Human Resources to a babbling baby in need of her Mommy. Emily wondered if she could break her record and turn Sarah into a baby in less than a few weeks. "It would be fun. Think about it," said Emily with a sweet and reassuring tone.

I love babysitter amity and baby Camila so so so so so so much (by coqraws) Amity babysits Camila Part 1 by Coqodraws on DeviantArt

Dawww (when a new mom gets hired as a ceo she finds it harder than she ever thought to be away from her baby especially when she’s confronted by a pompous brat)

Hi, I hope you enjoy this story. In the past I have started lots of stories here and never finished them. I wrote this about a year ago, and posted it to fetlife. I meant it to just be a one off story but a few people asked for more and I kept going. I'm now on part 10. Since I have written so much I thought I should share it here too. It took him a few minutes realize his situation when he woke up, not in his own bed, cramped, wet and uncomfortable. He could see the white rails going up in front of him. "Dammit," he said out loud. He was laying in a 52 inch crib staring up at a stuffed animal mobile. The morning erection which would usually greet him every morning was stifled by the pink plastic cock cage, when it rolled his squished penis hurt. In an attempt to avoid this very thing he'd tried to pee really good before he went to bed, as his wet diaper now indicated. He relaxed and tried to let the pee flow, it wasn't easy but eventually he soaked the already wet nighttime diaper and even felt a little creep out into his sleeper. This was Saturday morning. Normally on a Saturday morning in Summer he'd meet his pal Ted and go fishing on his boat, he instinctively looked at his wrist, and remembered his wife took his watch away. There was no clock in the nursery, I wonder if I could still catch Jim he thought. He sat up in the crib, and thought about getting out, the rails were up be he could get over them if he wanted. Still the rule was that he wasn't allowed out of the crib until Mommy came to let him out. Getting out would be trivial but his wife had set the crib on 12 inch risers meaning that from the top of the rail down to the floor was 55 inches. He stood up and looked down over the rail. Of course the latch they had rigged up was locked with a small padlock. The same kind of small padlock that was keeping his cock locked in it's cage. It's probably really early, she's probably not even up yet. I could just go get some snips and cut the cage off, he thought about the wonderful orgasm he would whack out as soon as he got the cage off and he felt his little guy start to stiffen up and press against the cage again and he moaned in discomfort. This has got to end, he thought. "Bahh", he said as he threw a leg over the rails and got out of bed, he reached his foot down but couldn't quite touch the ground, his soaked diaper sliding against the top rail as he stretched. He tried to reach just a bit farther but lost his balance as his diaper snagged on the rail. He found himself falling and hit the floor with a thud. How the hell did I end up like this, he thought. A month earlier he was in a similar situation, laying on the floor of the guest room wearing a diaper and a cute onesie with bright pink trim and printed with hearts. His diaper was soaked and messy and he was listening to a hypnotic track on headphones, and he was happily suckling a big pink pacifier. He didn't even notice his wife walk into the room until she was looking down at him. She'd got off work early and came home to surprise him. The next few hours were rough, he explained his diaper fetish, and swore over and over again that it had nothing to do with children. His wife was shocked, then upset, then angry, really angry, then sad, really sad. She eventually packed a suitcase and left. She called the next day, and they talked on the phone for hours. Her anger had died down and she'd done research on adult babies, finding out that as he had said the fetish had nothing to do with pedophilia. That evening she came home and they had a long discussion, he explained he'd been doing this since he was a little kid, and that he didn't know why he liked to do it, but he loved it. At her request he showed her all of his stuff, his diapers, his onesies, his bottles and pacifiers. "I'm so sorry, I'm going to bag all this stuff up and throw it away," he said. "Well... I was thinking, I've always had this fantasy of being a tough in charge kind of woman," she said. He laughed, his wife was super sweet and nice and rarely wanted to be in charge of anything. "Seriously don't laugh, and since you know, we can't have a baby, it might be kind of fun if you were my baby." His eyes opened wide, words that he'd imagined his whole life just poured out of his wife's mouth. "Ummm, wha.." he stammered. "But there will be strict rules, you have to understand what hurts me more than anything about this is how you kept it away from me all this time, it's almost like you were cheating," she said. "I'm sorry," he said trying to fight back tears but losing. "It's just so, embarrassing," he said and began to sob. "Oh come to mommy," his wife said and wrapped herself around him and he cried into her shoulder while she gently rocked him back and forth, She supported his head and whispered into his ear, "Your mommies baby now and she loves you so much," in a few moments she felt his cock growing stiff and realized how incredibly horny he was. She pulled off her shirt and undid her bra, then guided her husband's mouth to one of her nipples. "Fussy baby, here you go," she gently said. While her husband latched on and suckled she alternated between rubbing the front of his pants and his nipple. Soon he was unable to control himself and was humping and grinding her legs. She undressed him and then herself then lead him to the bed where they had mind-blowing sex. His cock was harder and went deeper then she'd ever felt, he moaned in rhythm with her. "Yes, baby, yes baby," she began to say as she felt herself heading towards orgasm. "Yes mommy, yes mommy," he said back. They came together, both screaming in a mind shattering orgasm, then collapsed on the bed. "Would you like me to diaper you now?" she asked. "Nahh, I'm good," he replied. She wondered how closely his adult baby desires were connected to just having an orgasm. "That's something we'll have to work on," she said with a laugh. The next day they had the best day of their lives, something they'd always dreamed of doing together, they converted a guest bedroom into a nursery. They bought the biggest crib they could find, which wasn't really big enough, but would have to do. They bought a white table that they converted to an adult sized changing table, and some organizers for diapers and toys. They filled a cart at Baby's R Us, with all kinds of baby supplies and neither one could wipe the big smile off their face. Finally, they ordered several cases of different adult diapers. "That's a lot of diapers," he said. "Well you're going to need them," she replied

Hi, I would like to start a roleplay, where my character Vivien (if you prefer me to be a female character) or Steven (if you prefer me to be a male character) is in charge of regressing your character. So in essence we have a caretaker (me) and little (you) situation. We can keep this going for a bit, but eventually I want to switch Vivien into becoming a baby girl as well. We can either end the roleplay at this point or I can introduce a new character to take over the caretaker position. If you want we could also reverse the roles, which would make you the caregiver at this point. The main things I want from this RP are: 1) Making cummies in diapers after messing them (Yes, I'm really into that) 2) Vivien either getting stripped from her caretaker position OR accidentally regressing herself The tags give you an overview what I would like to have included. There is no need to have everything that is listed included. I hope that you're interested. Feel free to write me a private message if that's the case!

Set after frozen 1 She had done it Elsa was queen Anna was saved and had a new boyfriend she could do this she had for 18 years after all, she was… as an involuntary whimper escaped her it’s not that this hadn’t been happening for nearly 2 decades she rationalized pulling her blanket around her shaking frame more as she tried to sleep, amusing herself by making silly shapes and an ice plane to hover around her she was a monster her parents had all but said as much she didn’t deserve comfort nor would she ask, she could handle this she was meant to be an example as she strained to keep her eyes shut in a sleepless stuper til morning

Does anyone wanna rp this beautiful story with me (looks like some little darling threw a tantrum when she saw her husband was cheating on her)