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Well, I have a new idea (that had to be changed a bit from its unused original idea, but the characters in the story are pretty much similar in name, if not personality and pasts): Juventas' Wings. If you guessed that this was based on the Roman goddess of youth, Juventas, you'd be correct! There's going to be a lot of Greco-Roman lore in this story, even if it isn't revealed immediately. As a WARNING, though, there's a lot of mature content in this story, and this particular segmented chapter has the following: implied domestic violence and abuse, cheating, mental illness struggles, stated sexual assault (not delving into specifics), poverty, drug usage and withdrawals, law stuff for said drug usage, post-traumatic stress disorder, war scenes, anti-trans/gay slurs, misgendering, and deadnaming by bigoted minor chapter-only characters, mentioned maid/petplay fetishes, and a LOT of broken and dysfunctional families. Further chapters involve age regression, both physical and emotional, a remorseless serial killer, implied sexual assault, kidnapping, parental abuse, emotional and sexual manipulation, character death, and description of religion. Just be warned and as always, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. 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. And now for the beginning of the story: - Chapter One: Seven Lives - Fida Salah (nee Jazuri) didn’t even expect any mail to come to her, let alone an offer from others for her alone. All the thirty-five-year-old London-born-and-raised woman did was cook, clean, and do household chores, her mother, father, and older sibling having long since passed. Her husband, Botros Salah, was the only family she had left, and she knew that he cheated on her a lot with other women, her inability to have kids a…contentious point around him, amongst other contentious points. She wore a full red niqab that covered most of her body, her weary dark-brown eyes, a bit of her coffee skin around her eyes, and her delicate hands the only visible body parts, as she cooked dinner (batata harra, a vegetable dish that her husband always asked for, never seemed to get tired of, and forced her to eat. She was tired of eating it, couldn’t remember the last time she had been allowed a halal meat, but what her husband wanted, she did.) in preparation for her husband returning. The doorbell rang, and she all but jumped out of shock; Botros would’ve simply entered the house. Noting that the batata harra was completely finished, she walked over to the door, looking through the window, expecting to see her husband’s stern face…but instead seeing a very young (probably nineteen or so), yet tall Arabic woman wearing a hijab, accompanied by a young, almost effeminate-looking man with similar features, likely a male relative, as was custom. Fida was a bit confused. Were they friends of her husband? She opened the door, and the Arabic woman smiled. “Hello, you are Fida Salah, are you not?” the woman asked. “My husband should be here soon if you need to talk to him,” Fida said politely. “We’re not here for your husband,” the woman said, still smiling. “We’re here for you.” Fida froze, thinking of the day-old bruises over days-old bruises that reminded her what her husband was capable of. Nothing good could come from this. “I’m sorry, but-” “I understand you wish for us to leave, but I doubt that your husband wants to do spa treatments with you.” “Spa treatments?” Fida was completely confused now. “I’m sorry, but I have to cook and clean. My husband-” “Surely, he wouldn’t begrudge you a bit of time for yourself, right? Only a day of spa treatments, free halal meals like kabsa with lamb, chicken, and beef, relaxation around other women, all to make you feel like a brand-new you.” The housewife’s lips pursed. It was tempting, this offer, but she wasn’t allowed to leave the house without a male relative with her, and she didn’t have any other than her husband. “He can come with us to the spa, if you’re concerned about leaving without permission. We already talked to him.” “At his work? Is it all right if I call him…?” “Of course, dear.” Fida walked to the house phone (she was not allowed a cell phone) and dialed her husband’s cellphone number. One ring, two rings, three rings. “Yes, Fida?” Botros asked with boredom in his Arabic tongue. “It’s about that stupid fucking spa, isn’t it?” “Yes,” she whispered, also in Arabic. “Speak up, or you’ll regret it.” “Yes, it is about the spa,” she said, a little louder. “Of course. I’ve been asked as well. I asked Aisha to come over to cover your household chores, while you spend your day there. Then I expect you to come back.” “Yes, my love.” “I learned something from Aisha as well. She’s expecting my child.” Fida froze, her heart breaking. “That’s…wonderful, my love,” she said in what she hoped was a happy tone. “It is. I could still use you for household chores, but I’m planning on marrying her and having many more children together.” “Of…of course.” “Well…I expect you back at the time of my choosing.” “Yes, my love. Ila al-lika'a ya habibi.” Her husband - for now, she assumed - didn’t even say goodbye before he hung up, and she forced herself not to cry. She was going to be reduced to a mere servant, all because he found a younger woman who could bear his children. The woman and her male friend were still outside, but looked sympathetic. Fida then decided to take a chance. Fuck her cheating, abusive husband; he didn’t need to know. “I’ll go to your spa, and he won’t be invited.” - Maela Wheaton’s thoughts were in chaos as she drove her Uber cab in Birmingham, U.K., looking for people to pick up for a fare in her company’s Nissan Leaf. She took her meds this morning, she knew it! Olanzapine, clozapine, paliperidone palmitate, valproate, lithium, all sorts of anti-depressants, she took as many as she dared, but nothing worked for very long, and buying extra meds, plus groceries and gas put her deep in the red. She had a small flat that she shared with loud arsehole housemates, but she was barely making rent work. Her dark-brown eyes were trained on the road, as she gripped the steering wheel like a vise. She ignored her long black hair falling in her eyes as the extreme high of the mania made her do stupid things like cut off other cars with a honk of her horn, her paranoia justifying it by their slights, fuck them, fuck them all, they had no idea how hard life could be… Maela shuddered. Being a British Chinese girl, she had a miserable time in school, both primary and secondary, but she made it to college with good marks…until her schizoaffective disorder came into play. She ended up dropping out of college, her family disowning her, leaving her with nothing. But she worked her arse off to get this job, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to lose it. She drove to the city block where her clients, a Ms. Juve and a Mr. Mede (odd names, but they were legal) had asked for her car, and she saw them: a very young woman (probably four years younger than she was, and she was twenty-four) with Chinese features and a very effeminate young man who had similar features were waiting, seemingly unbothered by the hustle and bustle. Maela unlocked the door. “Where to?” she asked politely; they were her first customers of the day. “The ZLS London Zoo,” the woman said with cheer in her tone. “You’re Maela Wheaton, right?” Maela sighed. It would be a long drive, especially with her meds, but it would pay a decent amount as well. “Yeah, I’m your driver," she said as the couple closed the door. “Your fare will be €175-€215 for conversion, and you pay after the ride’s over.” “Is it all right if we talk to you on the way?” the woman, Juve, asked. “Erm…” “I’ll pay double if you allow us to talk to you, Maela,” Juve coaxed. “Fine." She drove away from the busy street, her eyes trained on the road. “What do you want to talk about?” “Well…we’re the owners of a nice little spa in London,” Mede said, his voice very stereotypically gay. “We’ve had all sorts of clientele, famous people, but we serve…others nowadays.” “That’s nice,” Maela said, her voice bored. “We were wondering if you could come to our spa when able,” Juve said. “Me?” Maela said with a laugh. “How much would it cost? I’m not exactly rich.” “The money you get from this drive should cover all of the costs and more,” the woman said with a kind smile. “It would be a full treatment, lots of pampering, massages, expert services, stuff like that.” Maela’s fragmented mind began to wander. Yeah, that did sound rather nice…but she was in the red, and she couldn’t exactly take a day off… “Just feel free to stop by whenever you’re free and willing. You seem like you could use it.” “Yeah, I…I have schizoaffective disorder, so I could use something to help, anything.” “I can’t imagine.” It was sympathy, which Maela hated…but unlike most who expressed such sentiments, it didn’t seem fake from Juve. Then a call echoed from her dashboard. “Hang on, it’s my supervisor. I have to take this.” She opened a line. “Hello?” “Hello,” an automated voice said. “Due to costs, we regret to inform you that after this ride, we will be forced to make cost-cutting layoffs. We wish you the best in your new endeavors.” Maela started to cry. She had been laid off? NOW?! This was a disaster. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Juve asked. “Just…I’m going to have to drop you two off; I’m no longer employed by the company. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but-” “Don’t worry about it, honey,” Juve said sympathetically. “Tell you what, here’s your payment.” She used a debit card and transferred…a very significant amount, to Maela’s utmost shock. €1,000? This is insane! I didn’t even do anything big! “Just consider the spa, honey,” Juve said, handing her a business card. “The money is yours to do as you wish with, but all I ask is that you consider using some of it for a day at the spa.” The two exited the car on a street, having not gone very far from Birmingham at all. Maela looked at the money, a decision to make. Tomorrow works. I’ll search for a job after I go there for a day. - Tawny Wheeler was working at a gentleman’s club in Manchester, U.K. Yeah, it was a stripper’s name to some, but the Black woman didn’t mind it as much; she loved the first name that her parents chose for her. Her flawless ebony skin gleamed in the lights, her lips filled, makeup expertly done. She had to look utterly stunning for her clients, both of whom were in a private room, as was custom. The woman’s hips swayed seductively, her heels clicking on the floor as she entered the room with the clients: a woman and an effeminate looking young man, both of them Black and beautiful to her, both of them with pretty long locks, looking a year or two younger than she was, in their early twenties. She danced on the pole in front of them. It was an opening act, the start to a lap dance, and maybe something more, if they so wanted and were willing to pay her on the side for it. Tawny was bi as hell, had no issues with men or women paying for sexual favors from her on the side, so long as they weren’t…her. The woman who raped me. Just because I was an exotic dancer, she brought me to her home, and… She had tried to report the woman to the police, but they weren’t very sympathetic to her plight, said it was her fault. Just because that woman was rich, powerful, and obsessed…she could - and did - stalk Tawny everywhere she went, hiring private investigators to see where she went, demanding to see her at her job, even stalking her to her house in Moss Side, one of, if not the, worst area in Manchester, where she would do anything to get out of… Then again, would her family be proud of her and what she did? They had either passed a while ago or moved out of the U.K. to other countries. Would her father look down on her for being an exotic dancer? Would her mom call her a whore for what she did to survive another day? And her sisters had left for American jobs a while ago, both of them far smarter and gifted than she was. Tawny tried to drive the thoughts out of her mind, tried to keep tears from pricking at her brown eyes; she was performing, not focusing on herself, but the woman seemed to notice her turmoil. “Are you okay, dear?” the Black woman asked. Tawny flipped her bleached-blonde braided hair in annoyance. “Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, her voice not inviting conversation. “Well…you seem like you could use a bit of a break. You know we own a nice spa, right?” Tawny seemed to perk up as she continued dancing. A spa? An actual honest-to-God spa? She could use some R&R, but her job…and the payment… “Don’t worry about it. The money we'll give you for this session will more than pay for a day at the spa. A treatment tailored to you, dear.” The woman’s eyes were quite warm and inviting, and Tawny was more than just a little tempted. “Sure,” she said. “What’s the earliest you can have me?” “Tomorrow, easily.” Tawny pondered it and made her decision. “I’m in. But first, that lap dance I promised you two…” - Former Petty Officer (honorably discharged from the Royal Navy) Sable Stokes was at the Royal British Legion in London, looking for help and not getting what she wanted. She wanted to take things to keep her up, to stop the nightmares of the Somalian pirates that invaded her small ship, seeing her mates all die to protect her, brutally killing the pirates, all of their faces - her friends and foes alike - in her nightmares every night. Why did everyone refuse that? Why did they want her to sleep? Why did they want her to feel all of that pain? “Look, Petty Officer Stokes, we’ll recommend you to our therapist, but we can’t prescribe you amphetamines; it’s illegal.” “I don’t want to sleep,” Sable said desperately, the nails on her olive-skinned hands digging into the handles of the wooden chair she sat in, her brown hair falling over her face. She hated that she had even joined the Royal Navy eight years ago on a promise and a prayer. If she hadn’t, she would’ve had a normal life… “Petty Officer Stokes, you have to sleep some time.” The secretary was seemingly sympathetic, but she didn’t want sympathy; she wanted the nightmares to go away. “The doctor will discuss things shortly. Do you have a next of ki-” “I don’t!” Sable screamed, the tenuous string holding her temper snapping. “My family’s from Ireland, and they hate me! My husband is dead from brain cancer! My mates died on the HMS Ladon! I - have - NOTHING!” “Security, please-” "There's no need for security; she's merely distraught," a new male voice said. A gentle hand on Sable's shoulder guided her away from the panicking secretary as she started sobbing. “There we go, get it all out, that’s a good girl,” the male doctor whispered in her ear as Sable relaxed in the soft, yet firm grip. “Who are…” “Doctor Alex Juves,” the male doctor said kindly. “Sable, if you could follow me to my office?” Sable reluctantly followed, feeling glad that the man hadn’t called her by her rank. She was not proud of being part of the Royal Navy, even with the friends she made. She had spent years on ships, not knowing her husband was secretly dying, wanting to be strong for her sake. Her mates on the Ladon, all dead. Every one of them in her head at night. No, she wanted nothing to do with Royal Navy services…but she didn’t have a choice, being unemployed and living disability check to check. The office was full of baby, toddler, and children’s pictures, an equal amount of boys and girls from the look of things. Sable tried not to sob; this is what she and her husband wanted: children of their own. Now he was lost to her for good; Steven Stokes was in Heaven without a doubt, while she was certainly headed down below. The male doctor looked oddly youthful, much younger than she was (she estimated him to be twenty-one years old, while she was seven years older), athletic, with trimmed brown hair and no facial hair, and calm green eyes. “Honey…” the doctor began, and Sable relaxed a bit at the paternal tone, “I think a spa trip would be for the best. It’s owned by a woman whom I trust with my life, and I think a day of relaxation would be for the best.” “A spa trip?” Sable snorted. “What do you take me for, a girly-girl?” “It’s not just for girly-girls. I’m just thinking of a day of relaxation, and that can be for anyone, even the biggest tomboy.” She sighed. “How much does it cost?” she asked. “For military discounts such as yours? Nothing at all.” “Nothing’s free-” “I know. All I’m saying is that the military discount is valid for this spa. A day of relaxation, freedom, and free of worry. Is that something you’d want?” “But the nightmares-” “And you have the choice of sleeping or not sleeping, Sable. Nothing will be done that you don’t want. I’m just recommending it for relaxation, and I’ve scheduled tomorrow as your day. Sound good?” Sable bit her lip. It seemed as though it had been decided for her…but hey, it was just a fucking spa! What was the worst that could happen? “Fine.” - Russet Royal had just been fired, arrested, and was awaiting her sentence for failing a drug test and getting caught with glass (crystal meth), lamenting her life choices as she sat in the London slammer cell. The skinny transwoman sulked, curled up in a corner, knowing that she had been placed with two men, one of whom was leering at her with ill intent. She merely glared at them with her icy-blue eyes, her red hair falling in wavy strands over her pale, freckled face, daring them to try something. “Hey, little bitch,” a man sneered. “You got a man? I can give you what your pussy wants…” “Dude, that thing’s a tranny,” another man said, rolling his eyes. “Unless you’re a poof?” “I’m not a fuckin’ poof! Fuck, how was I supposed to know? I’m not fuckin’ tranny ass!” Russet ignored the slurs, tried to ignore the depression, exhaustion, and aching all over her body and head: all signs of her amphetamine withdrawal. She was homeless and on the streets, the only job she was able to get was a barista job that she used to buy the next high. And now she was fired and looking at a serious prison sentence. Then a banging on the cell. “Paulson Pritchard?” Russet ignored her deadname, both first and last, her parents being so horribly bigoted that she long since discarded it when she had been kicked out. “Paulson Pritchard!” It had to be a withdrawal hallucination at this point; nothing would surprise her. “PAULSON PRITCHARD, GET YOUR FUCKING ARSE UP OR I’LL MAKE YOU!” “It’s Russet Royal, arsehole!” she snapped back in her Cockney accent. “Call me by me right name, an’ I won’t fuck ya up!” “Your barrister is here. Your choice if you want to go to him pepper sprayed or not.” Russet sighed in annoyance, getting up with her wrists long since handcuffed behind her back, as the guard roughly dragged her out of the cell, the pain from his grip causing her to grimace. He led her to a small room with a table and chairs, one of them holding a surprisingly young man in it (two years older than her age, she guessed, and she was eighteen), athletic, tall. The guard stood to the side until the young man, his brown hair long over his cleanshaven face, waved him off before saying, “I want her handcuffs off. Now.” Russet stared into space, a bit confused. Did the man say… “He’s a dangerous drug-addled prisoner. I won’t risk your safety.” “I want the handcuffs off of this young lady. She’s trans, if you somehow didn’t know. How dare you put her in a cell with two older men?” The tone wasn’t truly accusatory, but it caused the guard to fume before he unlocked Russet’s cuffs, as she tried to rub feeling into her wrists. “And now I want you out of the room whilst I discuss the magistrate’s judgement.” “You’re serious? This is a criminal-” “First time offender with no history of violent crimes and mitigating factors. Out.” The guard looked like he was going to explode with anger, but he left, thank God. Russet sighed in relief. “Fanks, Mr. Um…” “Call me Nick Juves.” The barrister’s bright blue eyes were kind. “I talked to the magistrate about a private sentence if you plead guilty: time served but with probation and house arrest at a place of our choosing.” Russet sighed again. “And if I don’t?” she asked in an irritable, yet dead tone. “Russet, you’re looking at seven years if you plead not guilty. Evidence is there and everything. You will be convicted, and I don’t want that for you. You have so much to give and deserve to receive help. I remember seeing you at your barista job in London. You were so kind to everyone, and asked everyone how they were doing, including me.” She stared at the barrister in shock. “I don’t-” “Remember it? No, I don’t suppose you would. But that’s why I took your case. The magistrate knows the place where you’d be at house arrest. Technically, it’s more of an upscale spa owned by a woman I dearly care about. Rest, relaxation, spending your free time there. All he asks is that you don’t leave.” Russet immediately brightened up. This actually sounded like it could be fun. “It’s…it’s a deal,” she said, her tone happy for once as she shook his hand. - Joan and Hazel MacTaggart were twins that had been separated for quite some time. Joan worked in Liverpool as a grocery store checkout operator by day and a waitress at night, Hazel worked as a morning waitress and a night shift petrol station attendant in Rotherham, both of them separated from birth in spite of Grandma Mac’s protests, not even being told of each other by their petty family members after the messy divorce. It was truly a messy situation, with each of their so-called “families” disowning them after they insisted on seeing each other, and for…reasons neither had admitted to each other…yet. Not that it mattered to them; they merely took the maiden name of their maternal grandmother - the only person who accepted both of them for the women they were - without hesitation, and even though she passed a year after they met at twenty, they always made sure to make their days together count, just like she always said. When they found each other after all that time, they were overjoyed, but were unable to visit each other due to their full job schedule. Until today. They were in London, both of them dressed to the nines, both of them with their long light blonde hair in shag-style haircuts, both of them were heavily tattooed (and with both of them wearing spiked chokers, they were definitely punk-culture oriented), their green eyes each showing love for their twin as they had coffee and chatted at a small cafe that catered to fetish cultures (something both of them hadn’t yet admitted to each other, but wanted to, waiting for the other to make a move first). The only difference between them was their clothing, even though they both wore all black: Joan was wearing a blouse, a knee-length pleated skirt, and heels, while Hazel wore a long-sleeved shirt, a knee-length skirt, leggings, and flats. “God, it’s bigger than I thought it would be, Joan,” Hazel murmured. “I don’t know what to do.” “Me neither, Hazel,” Joan said, sipping on her coffee. “There’s just so much to see…” “Why not our spa?” a feminine voice said. Joan and Hazel turned their heads to the side, as they saw a woman who looked about a year younger than they were, also wearing a spiked collar with her brown hair and beautiful in a full latex suit, as well as an effeminate blond boy in a frilly maid costume wearing a dog collar with spikes, the woman holding his leash as he was lying on the ground. “Where did you two come from?” Hazel asked. “I didn’t see you earlier…” “OH, we just sat down,” the woman said cheerfully, pulling the lead. “I’m Juve, and this is my little pet maid, Mede.” “I’m Joan, and my younger twin is Hazel,” Joan said with a smirk. Ever since she found out she was the older twin from her grandmother, she always lorded it over her sister. “Dammit, Joan, it was ten minutes. Ten minutes.” Juve merely smiled. “I’m pretty sure that you both could have fun at our spa. We cater to fetishes of all types as well as doing relaxing procedures. Oh, and the food is amazing.” “Is it in London?” Joan asked. “Yep! Here’s my card, one for each of you.” Both twins took the card. “Juventas’ Winged Oasis, huh?” Hazel said. “You said it caters to fetishes?” “That it does,” Juve said with a smirk. “You have a poison?” Neither twin seemed eager to share, looking embarrassed all of a sudden. “Aww, it’s okay, we’re friendly here. I have my own fetish, Mede here is a maid and petplay addict, can’t get enough of it.” “Mistress,” Mede whined. “Heel, girl.” The order was a bit stern, and Mede lay at Juve’s feet in a shockingly docile manner. “Feel free to say as much or as little as you want.” “Do you cater to adult baby fetishes?” Joan asked, before blushing and covering her mouth. “Sis, you too?” Joan turned in shock to see Hazel blushing. “Wait, Hazel, you also-” “Well, that solves a lot of problems.” Juve looked genuinely happy, and not in a mean way. “We can easily do that at our spa. No need to bring anything other than stuffies and favorite dummies.” Both twins looked sad, and Juve seemed to look sad as well. “You don’t have any stuffies or dummies?” “No,” Joan said. “I have to survive. It’s hard enough to buy nappies.” “Yeah, adult nappies are the only thing I’ve allowed myself,” Hazel admitted. “Tell you what, we can find you a stuffie each and provide the dummies, the bottles, actual adult baby nappies, everything a happy baby girl needs.” “How much will it cost?” Hazel asked in trepidation. “Tell you what: first time’s on me. It’ll cost more for extra ‘sessions’.” The woman almost seemed to transform into a dominatrix in front of their eyes. “Sound good?” Joan and Hazel looked at each other incredulously, unbelieving of their luck, before saying simultaneously, “You bet!” - Apologies in advance for the long, fragmented chapter: it would've been too short to post each person's response, and I want to move into this story as quickly as I could. Anyway, here are the translations of some of the foreign words: Halal = Islamic limits to what one is religiously allowed to eat. Kabsa = an Arabic rice dish that has a meat (usually lamb or chicken, but can include beef, fish, goat, even camel) with vegetables and a mixture of spices. Batata harri = a Lebanese dish with potatoes, vegetables, and spices. "Ila al-lika'a ya habibi." = "Until we meet again, my love." (Directed towards a man.) Hope y'all enjoyed this very long chapter - and for you Brits out there, let me know how I did~ I swear to holy fate, I researched as much as I could, but if I made mistakes, please let me know.

Hello All, My name is Bear! Back in January 2025 I opened the site: TheABDaycare.com The daycare is an adult content site that produces some of the best ABDL content on the internet for only 20$ a month! That is almost half the price less than any other site! Types of content you will find at the daycare! Adult Baby Diaper lovers MDLG DDLG Forced Regression and so much more! You can start to see samples of our content here on the front page! DailyDiapers - Photos We hope to see you soon at Daycare! Link: www.theabdaycare.com

"Cody im leaving to go out with my friends to the movies. I'm leaving my magic wand behind. Also don't even think about using it. You arnt ready to learn or cast spells just yet so don't think about doing it alone". Julie yelled out as she left. Cody ignoring Julie's warning decided to practice a little with the wand. He flicks the wand sending a blast of magic from the end, the stray bolt of magic then bounces off the mirror and onto a pack of adult diapers sitting on the floor. Cody then sees the packet coming alive, the packaging rolling and bulging before It rips open. What emerged from the torn package were diapers with what appeared to be cartoon eyes and tongues. The newly animated garments scream out "hungry must have food!!" Cody, not knowing what to do, sees one of the diapers jump, but far too late to do anything about it as he sees that it was jumping at him. Then another after another diaper surrounds him with two of the diapers grabbing the wand, chanting a spell. Then two gloved hands appear along with a bunch of baby supplies floating in midair. Cody, scared not knowing what is about to happen, tries to squirm free of his magical restraints. He starts to almost crawl away but the two hands pull down his pants and undies then gives him a spanking. The hands then have him stand up and one holds him while the other diapers hold his feet. One diaper starts the smile staring at Cody's exposed naked ass and says, "yummy food." It then jumps and holds on to the front of Cody's waist, one of the gloved hands then holds the back of the diaper and another hand comes with baby powder. The hand then starts to powder Cody's ass and the inside of the diaper. Cody can feel the diapers cartoon tongue exploring against his asscheeks and then the tip of it then rims his asshole. Cody starts to squirm and moan as his dick starts to stand up. The diaper says "yummy tasty food and the seasoning powder tastes so good with it". After powdering Cody's ass the diaper then closes up and attaches itself in excitement around Cody's body. The tongue then goes deeper in his asshole, Cody just gets more horny but then feels like he has to poop. The diaper can taste the mess that's coming inside and wants it so bad. The diaper then squeezes Cody's tummy making him desperately have to poop. Cody can't take it then starts to fart and make a big giant mess all for the diaper monster to take. "You're such a stinky dirty boy, you definitely will help feed me and my friends for a long time," the diaper laughs triumphantly. "Get used to us feeding off your poopy butt but don't worry we like to reward our little stinky boy. Allow me to demonstrate". The two hands then push Cody down onto his butt smushing all the poop around his ass. The front tapes of the diaper then open up exposing Cody's dick, one diaper then comes up close by his crotch then spits out its tongue and wraps around Cody's hard-on. The tongue was super wet, Cody then felt it go up and down giving Cody a tongue job. Cody starts to moan and then feels the diaper attached to his butt dig into his butthole once again pleasuring his prostate. Cody then starts to feel the need to cum, the hands then grab a baby bottle and open up the lid. Cody then busts the biggest orgasm he ever made into the bottle, filling it up full, he couldn't believe how much he cummed out. The diapers all smiled then the diaper laughed "such a good boy, now it's time to feed the baby and what better way than a fresh bottle of milk mixed with some protein provided straight from the source". Cody tried to squirm knowing that his own cum was mixed with milk. The hands then approached with the bottle to his mouth. Cody tried keeping his mouth closed but then one of the hands pinched his nose and he was forced to drink his own milk he made himself. The diapers laughed then the diaper on his butt opened up all the way exposing his poopy butt and naked bits. The diaper then shouted "Alright everybody dig in. Enjoy"! All the diapers started to run up to Cody's ass pushing him onto his back with the hands holding his legs up in the air for easy access. All the diapers then started to lick clean his poopy ass and hole. How long would Cody have to endure this with the wand in their hands now. Then Cody hears the door open. "Hey Cody I'm back and oh gosh!! What the heck is going on!! Cody, are you wearing a diaper and ugh don't tell me you've been playing with my magic wand! And what..." Julie stomach gurgles and she moans out, "Ugh why did I eat that big burrito?" The diapers looked at Julie with hungry eyes. The leader of the diapers then laughed and yelled "Oh looks like Cody's girlfriend walked in just in time, we totally forgot about dessert! Anybody who wants her, it's first come first serve so better get to it!" The diapers then run up to Julie and the hands push her down. Pulling her skirt and undies off then grab her by her ankles lifting them up. Then out loud *pffft fart* Julie makes a huge stinky fart that fills the air. All the diapers then smiled and loved it. "Oh my, it smells like fresh roses!" "Omg please me first I would love a taste of that rose bud!" "Smells like she's brewing a nice big one. A nice poopy Supreme!" One lucky diaper then gets its chance and scoops right under Julie's butt "Cody when I get out of this you're going to pa..y..uhh..." Julie was paused from the tongue entering herass while another diaper got on top of her "look another hole I wonder what comes out of there?" The diaper then slipped its tongue in and Star moaned. The diaper smiled "oh wow it's nice and juicy!!" Julie felt her tummy rumble and then the diaper gave her the same treatment that they gave to Cody. Fresh mushy poop came out of Julie's ass and into the open diaper. Then the diaper closed itself and mushed right up against Julie's butt. The leader said "oh bring some of that over here let's mix it with Cody's! The two hands then pushed Julie and slid her on her butt up to Cody then the two diapers opened up and both stinky poopy diapers then mushed together and both Cody's hard dick and Julie's horny front met together. Then both of their butts met the fate of having to sit in each other's mixed up poopy diapers. Julie then moaned "oh no I have to I have to". Cody yelled out "NO please don't tell me you have to..." *pffft fart*. More mushy poop starts to come out of Julie's butt and floods into Cody's diaper. The diapers got closer together. Rubbing both their stinky butts together. "EWWWW GROSSSS!!" Both yelled out

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 - left out the door, entered the car, and drove away. - Hope you enjoyed~

Looking of a Tbdl girl Who i could play with maybe change there diaper and have them change mine some where in Simco

Repost. One of my older stories. I wrote this before I wrote Bad Seed. It was originally posted back in 2013. ? Yikes. Where does the time go? Well, hopefully in all the time that's passed, my writing has improved. TRICKY TREATS by Cute Kitten Kaoru squirmed in her carseat, stretching her cramped muscles with what little wiggle room the dip of the seat and the harness restraint allowed. She pressed against the thick pink cushions of the over sized infant carrier, her diaper crinkling. As much as she loved her carseat, she'd been in it for hours. Her mate, Danny, had decided to drive straight through, stopping only for gas, to feed or change her, or for the occasional piss at the side of the road. She had slept most of the way up north through the night. Mate was a funny word, but given what Danny was, it was suitable. It was the correct term, according to him. Kaoru just called him her boyfriend, but their relationship was deeper than that, more like soul mates from a fairly tale. The term married couple could have applied to them, but that didn't really fit right, either. Mate sounded just as funny to her as boyfriend or husband did to Daniel. Mate was a strange word, but then Danny's true nature aside, they were a strange couple, she supposed. She enjoyed playing baby. It helped her cope with her past and her insecurities. As for Daniel, well, he was not human at all. An oversized infant carrier was just as strange and unbelievable as Danny's true nature was. It had been a gift sent from Auntie Hester, who over the phone had told them in jest that making a car seat that size was as easy as bippity boppity boo. Karou settled back down, staring out the window at the crisp colors of autumn leaves in the early morning sun. Her gaze shifted from the trees to her reflection. Staring back at her was what looked to be a petite preteen girl, half white and half Japanese, or Halfu as she'd been called back in her home country- half Japanese and half gaijin, dressed in a pink, oversized infant sleeper with attached mittens and booties and evident bulge of a ridiculously thick diaper. The sleeper had Disney Princess print. The pink and purple pacifier she sucked on and the Cinderella bib around her neck completed the ensemble. She scrunched her pert little nose up at her reflection. She didn't like how her eyes looked without her usual gyaru style makeup that made her eyes look poppingly big, almost like a Shojo anime character or a doll. Danny assured her she looked beyond adorable either way. The no makeup rule when playing baby was the only part of it she didn't like. Without makeup, she looked even younger than the preteen or young teen she was usually mistaken for. Over here in America, people always thought she was around fourteen or fifteen with makeup and ten or twelve without it. Her actual age was eighteen. She wondered if she ever got the chance to go back to her home country what age people would assume she was. Her actual gender was more tricky. She had been born a male, and had physically been a male for few years of her life. As a toddler, she had been drawn to girly things and had always felt like a girl inside, even when her mom and maternal grandparents insisted she was a boy. That came to a head when her mother's yakuza thug of a boyfriend, after a drinking binge one day, snatched Kaoru by her hair, sliced her dress off with a knife, slicing into her skin in the process, then began to butcher- The memory suddenly vanished, blanking from her mind as if sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. Kaoru gasped, almond eyes wide and pacifier tumbling from her lips. Her pulse sped and she grabbed onto Miss Mopsy, hugging her beloved plush bunny tight. "Pumpkin, you okay?" Kaoru looked up into a pair of concerned blue eyes visible in the rearview mirror as Danny checked on her from the driver's seat. She forced a weak smile that he didn't buy. "J-just a-a bad memory but it....feels more like a bad day dream. It disappeared in the middle-" She trailed off into a low mumble but he could still hear her heavily accented English. Her face showed her confusion. That memory was real, had happened, but it was already gone from her mind, wiped away like the early morning mists. Remnants lingered like ghosts, but even they were fading. Danny's eyes softened with a touch of sadness, sorry that his baby girl's past still hurt her. "Auntie Hester said the effects of the potion she sent will increase with each dose. It will take some time, but soon you'll forget those memories forever." Hester was a very good friend of Daniel's; they considered each other siblings even though they were not related by blood at all. Or marriage. Neither was Hester Kaoru's aunt or any relation at all, but she insisted Kaoru call her Auntie, and Karou seemed to enjoy it as well. Kaoru's smile grew slightly more steady. There were things in her past she did not want to remember. Therapy and medication hadn't helped her cope much, and the scars on her body were reminder enough. Danny's sister had sent Kaoru a special potion she'd brewed, and dose by dose it was gradually erasing the painful things Kaoru dearly wished to forget, misting over the scars of her heart and mind.

Any dl girls in north idaho