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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 is my own submission to the 4th Kasarberang Non-Contest. It’s been well over a decade since I’ve written anything, and coincidentally, the story I wanted to write fit well into the contest. Also, it seemed like fun to add someone else’s rules to my own idea. Unfortunately, writing doesn’t seem to be quite like riding a bike and I didn’t complete nearly as much as I would have liked. Still, I’ll post the few chapters I did write over the next few days as I rewrite them. I hope you all enjoy it, and I plan on continuing after the contest is over. Chapter 1 Margaret sighed, her trembling hand guiding the key into its lock with a mix of dread and resolve. Her heart was pounding in her chest, each beat echoing the gravity of the moment. The weight of Bridget’s presence beside her only heightened her anxiety. “This is what I’ve been trying to explain,” Margaret said, pressing against the door as beer cans rattled on the other side. A heavy, putrid stench enveloped both women as they entered the apartment. They waded through channels carved through stacks of molding pizza boxes and crumpled beer caps. The sticky squelch of the floor muffled the thud of Bridget’s ankle boots as she carefully stepped over yellowing, brittle Kleenex strewn across the floor surrounding a deeply stained couch. They followed the path to the other side of the room. “He’s-” her voice cut off by the foul air assaulting her senses. She turned to face Bridget, clenched her fists, and persevered through the distressing feeling. “He’s not a bad person, he’s just…” Her tone dwindled as she fought the urge to swallow the horrid air. “Lost.” Bridget, her face masked with stoicism, nodded. “I understand Margaret,“ she stated, her voice maintaining an impressive composure against the chaos surrounding them. “Some people just need a guiding hand to set them on the correct track.” Turning to the next door, a soft smile briefly graced Margaret’s face, grateful for the glimmer of hope Bridget’s reassurance provided. However, as she prepared to open it, a twinge of guilt returned, mixing with her embarrassment. The thought of showing Bridget the state of Ethan’s bedroom weighed heavily on her conscience. Opening the door was like witnessing the aftermath of a homeless camp exploding. Dirty, wrinkled clothing piled over a dresser, desk, and chair, spilling onto the floor. The air carried a familiar heavy acidic smell mixed with sweat and desperation. Sheets of cardboard stapled to the window trim blocked out the light, keeping the room dark enough for its inhabitant to sleep through the day. Other than the light bleeding through the open door, the only light source in the room was a glowing phone next to a passed-out, face-down man snoring in a drunken stupor. Careful to avoid the half-drank cans of beer, Bridget approached the bed and knelt, her eyes scanning over the naked form before her, she confirmed what the state of his apartment already told her. Without his mother’s constant care, he lost all semblance of healthy habits. The pads of his feet had turned grayish and blackened from trampling the layers of filth. His belly protruded from nearly four years of surviving off nothing but beer and takeout. His overgrown chestnut hair clung to his face, slick with sweat and grease. His skin, likely last washed when his mother had last ordered him to while he still lived with her, had developed an oily crust around the armpits and crotch. Turning her attention to the phone at Margaret’s son’s side, Bridget’s face contorted at the sight on screen. A man raising a cat o’ nine tails style whip above his head. Ready to strike a sobbing woman strapped to a bench. Her fair skin was shredded by a level of abuse far beyond any limit Bridget would even dare consider. Swiping the video off the screen, Bridget scrolled through the list of videos saved onto the phone. As she read the list a knot in her stomach twisted with disgust. Each title contained one or multiple combinations of slut, anal, whipping, BDSM, crying, whore, extreme, and cruel. A sudden gasp snapped Bridget’s attention back to Margaret, who now hovered over her shoulder. Margaret’s fists were clenched in rage, tears streaking her makeup after witnessing the list of videos her son had saved for his pleasure. Her mouth was open as if she were silently screaming at him, desperately pleading for answers less horrifying than the grim truth before her. Margaret reached out with a trembling hand, slowly uncurling her fist and gently resting it on his back. It was as if this distraught mother were trying to heal the blight that had taken hold of the man she had raised. Comforting someone in such distress did not come naturally to Bridget. Her usual methods would be wholly inappropriate in this situation. Yet, she felt the weight of the moment pressing deeply into her heart as she watched Margaret, who was quietly sobbing as if mourning a son already beyond saving. Rising from her kneeling position, Bridget extended a steady hand to Margaret’s trembling shoulder. Her tone was soft and reassuring as she said, “Come with me, Margaret. We’ll find somewhere nice to talk, okay?” Margaret looked up, her eyes red and swollen, as Bridget guided her away from the chaotic nest her son lived in. As they stepped out onto the open street, both women inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air as if emerging from drowning underwater. The city’s sounds, car horns blaring, people chatting, and a distant dog barking, felt almost melodic compared to the clattering of beer cans and crunch of pizza boxes that came with navigating the filth her son had amassed. Needing to air out the cloud of dirt that haunted them from the apartment, both women walked until they found a small park a few blocks away—they made their way to a secluded bench shaded by the yellowing leaves of a large oak tree—a perfect place to hold a conversation unfit for the public ear. Margaret’s focus drifted from Bridget, latching onto a young couple walking hand in hand in the distance. The mother, waddling along in the late stages of pregnancy, her face glowing with anticipation. Her husband, smiling down at her, overjoyed with the endless possibilities the future holds for their budding family. Both poised to welcome a blank slate to the world for them to impress upon. Both completely unaware of how horrible the result could become. “It must be nice.” Bridget followed Margaret’s gaze to the couple before asking, “What must be nice?” The silence was all that Margaret answered with, instead her grim expression conveying an internal dialogue that Bridget could only guess at. When Margaret’s eyebrows lifted, Bridget wondered if someone had made a surprising statement or a valid point. As the surprise turned into a frown, it seemed an argument had been defeated. The gentle lines on her face turned to a scowl as the conversation grew heated. Then, finally rested on a more neutral but determined expression as her eyes flickered with a burning passion. “I don’t want Ethan to treat some poor girl like that… Pig.” Margaret’s tone was blunt, emphasizing that word, Pig. He didn’t deserve a name; a pig is all he is, “But maybe Ethan is worse.” “I see why you called me,” Bridget stated with a sign. When Margaret first called Bridget had expected screaming or threats, looking for someone to blame other than her husband. Instead, Margaret had seemed almost apologetic, as if she were somehow the one in the wrong. Still, Bridget wouldn’t have ever considered meeting Margaret again after their first encounter, but when Margaret offered more money than Bridget had earned in the last decade, she reconsidered. “At first I assumed you were exaggerating,” Bridget turned to Margaret. “But it does seem like he needs an extreme shift in direction.” “You know, it’s almost funny,” Margaret whispered, fighting back another wave of tears. “Over the last year that Pig started to act like a decent husband. He started trying to be better and treat me better. Listen to me, noticing and complimenting my efforts. Even being more mindful of my needs. Little did I know it was you… helping.” Bridget sat quietly, she was used to hearing David, Margaret’s husband, speak about her. How proud of himself he was, almost laughing as he explained the mind games he’d play. Deliberately ignoring Margaret’s attempts to be more appealing to him. Even going as far as verbally slapping her with back-handed compliments. When she would indulge in salon treatments he would question why she never put effort into her looks. If she cooked him a meal, he would immediately ask if she had ever considered taking classes. Men proudly mistreating their wives wasn’t new to Bridget, but this was the first time she witnessed the other side of it all. To see firsthand how their victim suffered and how slowly working that out of these men only satisfied her own desire and still contributed to the destruction of these women’s lives. “That Pig infected him. Corrupted my baby.” Margaret said through clenched teeth, her rage obvious. Finally, turning to Bridget directly she asked, “Can you do it? Can you help him?” Bridget recognized the glare Margaret’s face carried immediately. It was the same as the night they first met. David had confessed to calling Margaret a bitch that week, a word that Bridget had planned to remove from David’s lexicon completely when the hotel room door burst open. But it wasn’t the blind rage Margaret initially wore when she first witnessed the two together. It was the swirl of confusion that mixed into that fury when she came to understand the position her husband was in–on his hands and knees, dressed in a plaid miniskirt, with his pink satin panties pulled down to his knees. Then came the horror as Margaret watched Bridget slowly pull all eight inches of her strap-on from the depths of Margaret’s husband. With a long sigh, Bridget’s eyes softened as she met Margaret’s gaze. “Usually when…” Bridget paused, choosing her words carefully. Giving her best effort to be delicate in addressing what her clients paid for and not to remind Margaret too much of that night. While she certainly didn’t respect those men, she didn’t want to add to the suffering she already caused. “Usually when clients meet with me. It’s for a specific type of experience. It is always consensual. Just, over time, they learn to be more respectful and to appreciate the kind of fun that I feel they deserve.” Training someone who hadn’t sought her out originally was not Bridget’s normal approach. She wouldn’t have ever considered attempting it if it wasn’t for some strange debt she felt to Margaret. On top of that, if Ethan had adopted and exacerbated some of his father’s most appalling traits, it seemed prudent to address these issues before he harms another woman. “I’ll help you, but first,” Bridget had always assumed she could keep her own emotions out of her chosen profession. With clients like the aptly named Pig, it was easy, but here she felt she owed Margaret. “We’ll proceed on my terms, with no room for negotiation.” “Whatever I need to do,” Margaret quickly replied. “Good, then we’ll get both of their behaviors corrected.” Chapter 2 Margaret had exhausted every conventional approach. Despite hiring therapists, offering larger financial incentives, and even engaging a motivational speaker, her efforts to encourage her son remained fruitless. The only forward momentum came from a desperate measure when she threatened to terminate the lease on Ethan’s apartment if he didn’t agree to at least start college. Yet, she remained wholly unconvinced in his devotion to bettering himself. Adding to her mounting stress, Margaret had been receiving increasingly urgent complaints from the apartment management. The stench emanating from Ethan’s apartment had become a serious issue. Each complaint came with a warning that eviction was imminent if the situation wasn’t addressed. Desperate to avoid her son’s eviction, Margaret found herself paying more and more to the management in the hopes of buying additional time and preserving Ethan’s living situation. Still, his lack of enthusiasm was evident in every interaction. When she texted about what Ethan needed for his classes, she often received no reply. On the rare occasions, she managed to get him on the phone, he would brush off questions about his courses or his intended degree. This persistent disengagement deepened Margaret’s frustration and despair, leaving her feeling as though her efforts were being callously ignored. Now, with only a few days until college started, she turned to the only woman who had made meaningful changes to her husband’s behavior. Hoping that the same type of intervention could be applied to her own son. Bridget, with her ever-stoic demeanor, suggested that he required a more stringent path. Transitioning from his current static, careless lifestyle to one filled with schedules and assessments would prove extremely difficult for someone severely lacking discipline. It wouldn’t be as simple as guiding Ethan through the acclimation process to his new life. He first needed his current attitude towards his future dismantled so that it could be rebuilt from the ground up. Her methods were unorthodox at the best of times and when necessary, brutal. But they were effective. However, Bridget explained that the key was to make these men believe they wanted to improve their behavior, motivated by the promise of rewards for good conduct and punishments for missteps. The real art was subtly persuading them that it was their own idea to seek more intense pleasures and accept increasingly severe consequences. But this process took months, even years, and time wasn’t a luxury she’d have with Ethan. For him it would need to be instantaneous, it would be an all-or-nothing situation and she was confident that her experience, combined with improvisational skills, were fit for the job. Margaret, feeling both a flicker of hope and a pang of apprehension, nodded slowly. She knew Bridget’s approach was radical, but her own efforts thus far had led nowhere. If anyone could break through to Ethan, it was Bridget. “Thank you, Bridget,” Margaret said softly. “I trust you.” Bridget gave a curt nod, “We’ll start immediately.” Coming to a final agreement, both women rose as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Margaret’s heart was heavy with apprehension, but she could now look to Bridget, whose calm, resolute expression provided a sliver of reassurance. Despite the uncertainty, for the first time, Margaret felt she may have found the solution to her son’s stagnation. As the sun set, casting long shadows across the park, Bridget and Margaret walked back towards the apartment. The faint chirps of crickets filled the cooling air, amplifying the silence that returned to the two women as they walked. Margaret’s mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming days. She felt an uneasy mix of relief and fear. A part of Bridget's plan required Margaret to stay completely separated from Ethan until Bridget deemed it safe for him to see her again. The idea of such a drastic separation was daunting, but Bridget’s confidence sparked a fragile hope that maybe this time would be different. The reality of their situation pressed heavily on her shoulders; it was clear that Ethan’s transformation needed to be as swift as it was profound. When they arrived at his door, Margaret hesitated, looking back to Bridget. Then, after receiving an affirming nod, gathered her courage and knocked at the door. From inside came the sounds of beer cans rattling beyond the door, and then after a few muffled obscenities, the door creaked open. Ethan, disheveled and bleary-eyed, clearly just woken up despite the late hour, peeked through the crack. “Mom?” Ethan mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What the fuck do you want?” “Ethan… This is a friend of mine,” Margaret stated, motioning towards the woman at her side. “Could we please come in?” The eye beyond the door narrowed when its blurry gaze met Bridget’s. “I don’t need another one of your doctors. I told you I’d go back to school.” With a forceful bang, the door slammed shut in Margaret’s face. Margaret stood in stunned silence, reaching her trembling hand out as if to knock again. Before she managed to bang on the door Bridget placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Margaret,” Bridget’s voice was steady and comforting. “I was hoping he’d at least talk to you for a bit, but I think it’s time for me to take over. Hand me the keys and wait out here.” Quickly retrieving the keys from her purse, Margaret handed them to Bridget. “Just… please be gentle with him,” Bridget gave her a reassuring nod, though it did little to ease Margaret’s worry as she watched the woman disappear into the apartment. But Margaret had no idea that for Bridget, domming was like jazz-it’s just as much about the beatings you don’t give as much as the ones you do. Furious at the sound of his apartment door opening behind him, Ethan spun around and barked, “Mom! Get the fu–” his words cut short by the sight of the unexpected mystery woman approaching him. Standing tall and confident, Bridget commands attention the moment she enters a room. Her long, raven black hair cascaded in glossy waves down her back, contrasting starkly against her glowing porcelain skin. With high cheekbones and a sharp jawline framing her striking features, she drew focus to her piercing, ice-blue eyes that bore through anyone they rested upon. Bridget took in Ethan’s appearance with both amusement and relief. This time, he stood shirtless in his living room, wearing stretched-out pajama pants that hung loosely around his hips. It was hardly an improvement to her first encounter with the naked him, but at least it was some effort at decency. Regardless of how minimal the effort was. “Ethan, your mother cared about you. That’s why she hired me to help you.” her voice carried a subtle, dominating undertone, perfected in her years of experience dealing with men who didn’t yet know they needed to be stripped of their own volition. “Look, I don’t know what she told you, but I don’t need help.” The snapping tone Ethan freely took with his mother had disappeared. Reduced by the humiliation of this woman, for what he believed to be the first time, witnessing the squalor he dwelled in. “Everyone needs a little help, Sweetheart,” Bridget stated, her tone softening just enough to convey understanding without losing its edge. “And accepting that is just the first step to progress. Ethan shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. Normally, he met these therapists in their offices, where they had never fully seen the extent of filth he wallowed in. Instead, he watched as the woman’s toned legs glided her toward him. He admired the dark-washed jeans that hugged her curves perfectly. Her deep green blouse was made of soft, luxurious fabric, draped elegantly, hinting at the shape beneath without revealing all her secrets. Her full lips, painted in a bold, seductive red, curved into a knowing smile. Unbeknownst to Ethan, everything about her appearance, down to the simple yet elegant leather belt cinched around her waist, was a deliberate show for his benefit. Bridget, much like a spider hanging in its web, only needed to wait for her prey to be fully entangled before taking a bite. “I want you to relax.” Bridget’s warm breath poured over his ear. Her perfumed hand brushed an unwashed, greasy lock from Ethan’s face. Caught in the intensity of the moment, Ethan fought to swallow the lump building in his throat. His heart raced; he was out of his depth face to face with a real, non-pixelated woman. One who he still mistakenly believed to be a therapist, and he struggled to reconcile her commanding presence with the more professional yet less personal approaches of those who had tried before to worm their way into his life. “It’s okay to be vulnerable.” Her silken voice brushed past his ear as she dragged her fingers down his cheek. “I’m here to help you.” Ethan’s breaths were shallow, his chest rising and falling unevenly. The intoxicating blend of deep, exotic spices and velvety florals of her perfume filled his nostrils. His gaze shifted from the pristine, composed figure before him to the familiar chaos of his surroundings. The stark contrast made him momentarily uneasy. The disarray echoed the unsettled thoughts stirring within him, hinting at a reality he had long ignored. “Starting college is a good time to… restart,” she said, taking a moment to appreciate her foreshadowing of the journey they would both soon embark upon. Bridget’s light but deliberate touch continued to trace down to Ethan’s bare chest. “But finding that motivation can be so difficult.” “For some, it’s all about the reward,” she continued, her hand moving to the edge of his pajama pants. “The carrot, so to speak,” she explained, her hand trailing down his thigh. “But for others, well, they need a different kind of incentive.” The back of her hand purposefully grazed against his clothed cock to punctuate her statement. “For others, it’s the stick.” As her hand brushed against him, Ethan’s face flushed with excitement. Igniting every nerve ending with a jolt of electricity, his heart raced, struggling to maintain composure against the strange methods this unknown woman employed. “And that motivation is key,” Bridget whispered, her voice maintaining the command that came naturally to her. “Change can be difficult, but I can be a wonderful motivator.” His mind churned with resistance. The familiarity of his lifestyle, unambitious as it was, provided a unique comfort. The idea of leeching off his family’s wealth as he drifted through life was infinitely more enticing than confronting his issues and cleaning up his act. Still, he found this woman irresistible, the rush of her touch and what he believed to be promises of rewards drew him closer. Sensing his wavering conviction, Bridget capitalized with another step towards him, pressing her body against his. “I could make your time in college so much more… exciting.” The words hissed as her mouth closed the gap until her lips tickled his ear and cupped his genitals in her hand through the pajamas. Once his cock began to swell, Bridget’s hand quickly withdrew. “But I’m a lady. I can’t live in this.” Gesturing to the grotesque state of Ethan’s home with the same hand. “However, if I returned tomorrow and it was cleaner…” Her hand returned to his crotch. Wrapping her fingers around the bulging fabric. “Cleaner? I can do that.” Ethan blurted out. His mind was so clouded with lust that he felt he was prepared to agree to almost anything. However, almost anything paled in comparison to everything she planned to take from him. With that, Ethan watched as the enigmatic woman left his apartment with the same swift grace with which she had arrived. Her long, flowing hair cascaded like a dark wave with each confident stride, creating a striking contrast to the turmoil she left in her wake. In the hall, Bridget found Margaret, leaning to the side as she stole a glance of her son through the closing door, expecting to find him bruised and collapsed on the floor. Margaret breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him simply unharmed at the center of his chaotic apartment. “Thank goodness he’s okay,” she murmured with the first real relief she had felt all day. “How did it go?” “As well as could be expected. I gave him a day while I retrieve some things from storage and prepared my own home for his stay.” Bridget replied, “Also, as a bonus. I may have convinced him to clean up a bit. Maybe it’ll save you some money on whoever you have clear out that nest.”

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!

"I can't believe mom is making me take you on this stupid doll factory tour!" Cody whined. His sister Amanda says "Well I been wanting to go to this for awhile plus they got new dolls being made and it's a huge surprise. Something thats never been done!" They both start walking with the lady of rhe tour. Cody bored decides to go on his own tour. He quickly evades the group and his sister. His sister is too focused to on tour to notice he's gone. Cody finds a room labeled "keep out secret testing in progress". Cody intrested goes in and it's super dark but can hear machines going. The lights then come on and couldn't believe his eyes "he saw life like dolls same size of him but they were robots looked so real like humans. They were all in packaging except one was ripped open. "I wonder who opened this" Cody confused. Then from behind two arms grab him its the doll that was missing from the box "well well well looks like I found my replacement. No way I'm going to be somebody's baby dolly but I'm sure you'll be perfect for them" The doll takes him to this slide and throws him down "have fun with your new life. I'm about to start my own new life" the doll chuckles. Cody slides down then lands on a conveyor belt. A robot size doll that's bigger then him scans him. "Hmm I don't remember boys being part of this baby doll project but I guess they are going for sissy baby. Well let's get you ready and set to go" The robot grabs Cody but before Cody could say anything she sticks a pacifier in his mouth. "Now now no talking back its time to put you in a nice thick diaper but first we got to shave you down there" The robot then shackles him down to a chair and a bunch of hands rip his clothes off leaving him butt naked. The robot then grabs him and puts him across his knee. Cody trys to fight but the robot spanks him on the butt. Cody crys and immediately stops moving. Now lets shave those boy bits. The razor comes down and shaves his balls, dick, and butt hole. "There thats better but I think I feel someone is getting hard we can't have that can we. Now I'm going to remove your pacifier and if you try to talk back it goes right back in". Cody complies with the robot then waits for his next fate. The robot grabs a baby bottle filled with a little of milk then grabs his dick then lubes it up. And starts milking Cody till he makes loads of cum in the bottle. Cody felt so good he couldn't fight back. His orgasm was so amazing but them the robot grabs a chastity cage for his small soft dick. "Now we can't have you playing with yourself. Your new owner will decide when to unlock you. So be a good baby" the robot then locks his dick up and feeds him the bottle full of his cum and milk. "You got to be big and strong so protein was important for your milk". Cody can't believe he just drank his own cum. The robot then gets a giant thermometer but this one wasn't for mouth it was for rectal. Cody whines "Hey come on please no not that! " before he could back away the robot flipped him on his back and stickes thermometer up his butt. Cody could feel his dick precumming from feeling the thermometer hit his prostate. "Let's see well you look pretty healthy but ewww gross. Seriously do you not wipe your butt or clean down in that butthole. No no you need to be cleaned but also taught a lesson". The robot reveals a enema bag then grabs a diaper. "It's time for you to get a first experience of using your diaper at least!". The robot sticks the enema up his butt then starts shooting the water up his butt. She then diapers him up and plants him on her knee. "Now show mommy what a good girl does in her diaper". Cody tried to hold it but his butthole failed and realized a toxic messy wet poopy into his diaper. Cody cried like a baby while the robot laughed and bounced him. "Get use to it. I'm sure your owner will enjoy you so much. You look so embarrassed and blush it's so cute!" The robot then changes his diaper and wipes his butt hole very well. Before she diapered him she slipped a suppository up his butt. Then gets him dressed. Putting a small skirt barely coveting his diaper. And a shirt that says sissy boy on it. She then carries him to a box and ties his hands and feet up. "Well it's been fun but let's show you off. I'm sure someone will buy you". She put him on a conveyor which leaded to a show room. Which everybody was starring at him laughing. They couldn't believe their eyes but that wasn't even worse part. His sister Amanda saw him and approached the box. "Hey il take him please". Cody then says "omg Amanda am I glad to see you. Hey you got to untie me from this and get me out of here and....*click*" Amanda took a picture with her phone. "Now listen here sissy diaper boy I'm now in charge and your going to do what I say from now on or I can send this to all your friends" Cody scared "come on Amanda you can't do this I'm your big brother. You cant... ugh..." Cody felt the suppository taking effect. He couldn't poop himself infront of his sister. His sister smiled and knew what he was about to do. "Well looks like the baby needs to go boom boom. Daww well you are wearing a diaper go ahead show your new big sister how to fill a diaper" she then hits record on her phone to capture everything. Cody let's out a huge fart then his diaper starts to drop down from all the poo entering his diaper. "Noo this can't be happening. Im not a baby." Cody whined. Amanda smiled "peeeyeww baby bro you sure know how to pack them diapers like a pro. Looks like I got a fun pic and a video too. Here's the deal if you don't want both of these out. I mean the video is going to be way worse then picture but your going to tell mom that you want to bond with me more by being my new diaper doll toy. And... wait what's this" Amanda spots a key on the box that reads "key to chastity cage" Amanda laughs "oh my gosh I heard about these. Wow now your really going to be all mine. If you ever want to wank your little wee wee off then I suggest you better listen to everything I say. Also we got to get home my friends are coming over and I can't wait to show them to you. Plus il need help changing that stinky diaper. Gosh who knew boys took big dumps"

Today is Friday. Friday is the day that I magically switch from being a high powered Big Girl Angelise to being Baby Angelise and have to obey Daddy for the whole weekend until I go back to Big Girl life again. This weekend started out like all the other weekends with Daddy. I went straight to Daddy’s house after work and as soon as I stepped in the garage I had to take off all my Big Girl clothes and go find Daddy, give him a kiss and let him turn me into his Baby Angelise. Today was more than the usual work crazy and Daddy has learned my stress signs. Daddy saw my face and immediately went to start a bubble bath. When he came back from the bathroom he just pointed to the floor by his feet which was my signal that I can kneel and suck Daddy’s lollipop as much as I need to leave my Big Girl worries behind and be Daddy’s little girl. After several minutes Daddy had his release and I was ready to play in my bubble bath and have the rest of my stress melt away. Daddy says this is his favorite part of Friday when he gets to watch his Big Girl transform into his baby. Daddy got me from the bath and dried me off. Daddy had me climb up on the changing table and put lotion all over. That’s one of MY favorite parts of the day. I knew something was up when Daddy didn’t diaper me right away though. Even when I’m a Big Girl and not at Daddy’s house, Daddy still micromanages me and my body and Daddy knew I hadn’t gone potty for a few days. I told Daddy it didn’t matter because I felt fine but DADDY wouldn't listen. When I saw Daddy reach for the suppository jar with the GIANT suppositories I panicked and kicked at Daddy to make him stop. Every little girl knows you don’t EVER kick Daddy no matter what! Daddy grabbed my ankles with one hand and grabbed that nasty wooden spoon he keeps nearby the changing table and started peppering my bottom with the nasty instrument of torture. I began to yell at Daddy, “NO Daddy NO!!” And Daddy did something he’s never done before… he stopped spanking immediately. I then told Daddy I was so sorry for kicking him. Daddy didn’t respond but just proceeded to force my pacifier into my mouth and fasten it around my head rendering me literally speechless. Now I began to cry in earnest as Daddy’s Step 2 plan was to secure mittens on to my hands so I was completely helpless to stop Daddy. He then put his favorite pink fuzzy restraints on my ankles to prevent me from kicking him again or even walking. All I could do is cry like a helpless little baby which is what I am for the next 72 hours. Daddy told me how disappointed he was in me and he was doing everything for my own good. Once I was secured and I couldn’t speak, Daddy picked up the wooden spoon again and began spanking even harder than before. I was crying in earnest now mumbling how sorry I was and begging Daddy to stop. Daddy ignored all my protests and continued to spank my bottom until it was cherry red all over. Daddy finally put down the poon when he was satisfied that I learned my lesson and reached for the suppository jar again. I just shook my head NO over and over but Daddy didn’t even seem to notice! Daddy took 2 GIANT ice cold suppositories out of the jar and showed them to me. He told me that since I couldn't go the way Big Girls can, that he was going to help me so I wouldn’t get a tummy ache. Daddy proceeded to insert the suppositories one by one. Daddy said only good girls get lube but since I was a bad girl I had to take them plain. To make sure they were all the way in so they would do the most good, Daddy then took the handle to the wooden spoon and proceeded to push those horrible bullets all the way up as far as they would go. I was still crying over the pain and humiliation but once again, Daddy didn’t deem to care about my plight. He then flipped the spoon around and began to spank my bottom hole over and over again saying little girls who don’t mind their daddies and say NO get spankings and sore bottom holes all weekend. I could not stop crying now and was a blubbering mess. Daddy covered me in Baby cream which helped with my pain and put a stuffer in and wrapped me in a SUPER thick diaper which I thought was odd but I learned Daddy is in no mood for questions. Finally, Daddy finished and let me get down on the floor. I had to follow Daddy to the kitchen on my hands and knees because Daddy left my restraints on where he handed me my bottle of juice. Daddy told me I needed to finish it all in 20 minutes otherwise I would get another spanking and he was afraid I would become dehydrated from all the crying. Daddy sent me into my nursery to finish my bottle and told me I could play. I didn’t want to play. I was so wound up from my spanking and all the crying that all I wanted was to relax and have cummies. Now I had frustration to add to my night because Daddy doesn’t EVER let bad little girls have cummies. I thought about humping my giant teddy but I knew Daddy would not hesitate to spank me on my bottom hole again if he caught me. I tried to make the best of it and distracted myself with one of my picture books while I finished my juice bottle. All of a sudden I felt my tummy rumble and it wasn’t because I was hungry. UGHHH…. I felt the biggest cramp and doubled over on my knees until it passed. Now, I began to panic. I crawled as fast as I could to the bathroom. Relief spread through me when I reached for the handle only to send me into a panic again because it was LOCKED! OMG…. another cramp hit just as I reached the knob. Now I began crying again as I banged on the door in frustration. Daddy came running from all the noise and bent down and asked me what happened. I told Daddy, “ I hafta use the potty! Its anmergency!” Daddy just patted me on the head and said, “Babygirl, you’re too little for the potty now. There is no more Big Girl potty for you. You have an extra thick diaper on and plastic baby panties. You potty in your diapers all the time now for EVERYTHING.” I just kept shaking my head and crying hard. Daddy told me, “ The sooner you accept that you’re a Baby girl the easier it will be for you. Say what you are.” I just kept shaking my head in denial. Daddy squatted down in front of me and didn’t even appear angry but said again, “Say what you are out loud.” Knowing Daddy was not going to back down until my humiliation was complete, I said ” I’m a 3 year old peepee princess who can’t control her peepees and needs to be in diapers and plastic panties 24/7 now.” Just as I finished saying it a loud sound came from my diaper and I felt myself pooping into my diaper. Daddy just laughed and said, “ Well, I guess you’re the peepee and poopy princess now and forever. There’s no more Big Girl potty for you again. You’re going to stay in diapers 24/7 because you can’t control when you need to peepee and poopy so Daddy has to keep you in diapers all the time.” I began to cry from the humiliation and the truth of what Daddy said. Daddy reached out to my diaper and began to rub the front of my plastic panties and diaper as I continued to poop. Daddy’s touch ignited my frustration of not having cummies yet and he knew what he was doing. Daddy wants me to get used to being in dirty diapers and started only letting me cum in my diapers a few weeks ago. I am so disgusted with myself right now but the call to pleasure is overriding my humiliation as Daddy continues to rub me through my filthy diaper and whisper in my ear that I’m such a good girl for using my diapers like a baby should. The only sounds are the crinkling from the plastic panties, the rustling diaper and me pooping again into an already full diaper. Daddy continues to rub the mess all over me now. When he knows my humiliation is complete and he is satisfied, he gives me the order to cum. Daddy leaves his hand near my clit and feels the hot wetness from my cummies flow into my diaper. Daddy stops patting my diaper now and leans over the back of me. I think he is checking my diaper but then I hear his zipper. Daddy pulls back my plastic panties and diaper and takes a long piss into the back of my diaper. His hot piss reignites the pungent odor of the poop already saturating my diaper. When daddy is done he makes sure the diaper is still secured and tells me to go play in the nursery. Since I was such a bad little girl earlier, I need to stay in my filthy diaper to remind me that Daddy makes all of the decisions as he is the Daddy and I’m the baby girl. Daddy then gives me permission to have more cummies in my dirty diaper. We both know he is reinforcing my helplessness and his Dominance. I thank Daddy by licking his lollipop until his release again and crawl off to hump my giant Teddy waiting for me in the nursery. It’s a great thing that Teddy won’t mind my stinky diaper. That’s why he is my Bestest friend! THE END