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  1. Chapter 1: This can't be real. "Ashley, did you remember to pack the camera for your sister?" Steve yelled while adding things to their car for their road trip. "Got it!" Ashley called back, lugging a heavy suitcase towards the car. She had packed meticulously, ensuring they had everything they needed for their week-long getaway. As she approached the car, she noticed Steve struggling with a large cooler. "Let me help you with that," she said, setting down the suitcase and moving to assist him. Together, they managed to load the cooler into the trunk, making space for the rest of their luggage. "Thanks, Ash," Steve said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Ashley smiled, feeling a warm sense of contentment. She loved moments like these, simple and mundane yet filled with a sense of togetherness. As they finished loading the car, Ashley glanced at the time. "We should get going if we want to make it to Sarah's before dark," she said, referring to her sister. "She's expecting us to drop off the camera today." Steve nodded, closing the trunk. "Let's hit the road, then. I can't wait to get to the cabin and relax." With everything packed and ready, they climbed into the car, the engine roaring to life as Steve turned the key. As they drove off, the sun shining brightly overhead, Ashley couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. It was their 4th year anniversary of dating each other. She was confident he was going to propose while out at the cabin. As they left the city, traffic grew heavier, and Steve, always the impatient one, decided to take a detour through the backroads to avoid the congestion. The scenic route wound through the mountains, offering breathtaking views of the rugged landscape. "Steve, do you know where we are going? We've never gone this way before to visit my sister." Ashley asked concerned they were going to be late. "Don't worry about it; the road has to connect at some point," he said nonchalantly. "If you say so," she replied, pulling out her phone. "Hey Sarah, we're going to be late. Steve is taking a new road this time. He's being his "adorable" self and refusing to listen to the GPS or his navigator, lol," Ashley texted her sister. Hours had gone by at this point, as they ascended higher into the mountains, their cell signal began to fade, eventually disappearing altogether. "I think we should turn back Steve," Ashley told him, concerned they might have gone too far without cell service. It's already been an hour since the last time she could do anything on her phone. Despite Ashley's protests, Steve assured her that they would soon find their way back to civilization. However, his optimism dwindled as the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the desolate road. With no cell service and no GPS to guide them. Steve admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe you're right. I'll stop at the next gas station or something and ask for directions." "Or, you know we could turn around?" "How? This road isn't wide enough for me to do that." They continued down the desolate road in silence; their nerves grew with each passing minute without an opportunity to turn back around. The fading light of dusk painted the landscape in eerie shadows, heightening their sense of isolation. Suddenly, with a sputter, their car lurched to a halt, billowing smoke from beneath the hood. Steve's heart sank as he stared at the dashboard, hoping for some sign of life from the engine. Only to see the check engine light and the red lining of the temperature gauge. The silence that followed was deafening. Ashley unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, stretching her legs and taking in their surroundings. She let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her phone, now displaying a bleak "No Service" message. "We should start walking," Steve said, forcing confidence into his voice as he opened the car door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. "Maybe there's a gas station or a house nearby where we can ask for help." Ashley nodded, though her eyes betrayed her growing unease. They began to walk up the road, the fading light casting long shadows ahead of them. The air was thick with the scent of pine trees and the distant hum of crickets. After what felt like an eternity, they came across an old, abandoned house nestled among the trees. The windows were boarded up, and the front porch sagged under the weight of neglect. Moss and leaflitter had overcome the roof nearly entirely. Ivy stretched up one side of the house threatening to overtake the decrepit structure. Steve hesitated, looking at the house and the setting sun, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a shroud. "We should keep going," he suggested, his voice tight with unease. Ashley hesitated an urgency in her bladder demanding her attention. "I have to go," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "And it's getting dark. We'll just go in, use the bathroom, and leave." Reluctantly, Steve nodded, his stomach churning with apprehension as they approached the crumbling porch. Couldn't she just go by a bush? The door creaked open with a rusty groan, revealing a dimly lit interior choked with dust and cobwebs. As they stepped inside, a chill wind whispered through the empty rooms, sending shivers down their spines. Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. WHAM Ashley and Steve both jumped at the loud noise, turning to see the door closed. Steve nervously scanned the dimly lit interior, his hand instinctively reaching for Ashley's. "Must've been some strong wind," he muttered, trying to rationalize the sudden slamming of the door. Ashley nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to suppress the rising panic. "Yeah, let's just find the bathroom and get out of here," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly. Standing in the hallway, their senses were on high alert, every creak and groan of the old house setting their nerves on edge. Ashley was about to take another step down the hallway when a sudden movement caught her eye. Turning towards the source of the disturbance, she froze in terror as a figure emerged from the shadows—a grotesque, life-sized mannequin with hollow eyes and a frozen smile. "Welcome, little ones," it cooed, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "It's time to play!" Steve and Ashley's hearts pounded in their chests as the figure began charging towards them frantically. Waving its arms about wildly. They froze on the spot, their minds unable to comprehend the surreal situation unfolding before them. Closing their eyes, they braced themselves for the inevitable. Suddenly, the mannequin's voice softened, sending a chill down their spines. "Uh-oh, looks like someone snuck their way out of the playroom," it said, its tone almost playful. "You two should know better. You wouldn't want to get in trouble, now would we?" Its smile widened to an unnatural length. Confused, Steve and Ashley cautiously opened their eyes. To their astonishment, the mannequin now loomed large before them, towering over them like a giant. The entire house had transformed, everything around them appearing larger than life. They were no longer their adult selves but had shrunk down to the size of toddlers, surrounded by oversized furniture and toys. Steve and Ashley blinked in disbelief, trying to make sense of their surreal surroundings. They realized that the abandoned house had undergone a dramatic transformation. What was once a decrepit, abandoned building now appeared pristine and inviting, as if frozen in time from its heyday as a bustling daycare center. The walls were painted in bright, cheerful colors and adorned with whimsical murals of smiling animals and playful children. Sunshine streamed in through large windows, casting warm, golden rays across the room, nothing like the outside they had just come from. Toys were neatly arranged in colorful bins, and child-sized furniture dotted the space. There was a cubby system across from the stairs in front of them, where kids hung their coats and placed their shoes. But despite the seemingly idyllic atmosphere, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The silence that filled the room was heavy with the weight of the unknown, and a creeping sense of dread clawed at the edges of their consciousness. "What... what's happening?" Ashley whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she clung to Steve's hand, her eyes wide with fear. Steve shook his head, his mind reeling with disbelief. "I-I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty and fear."This can't be real." The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Oh, but it is, my dears," it said, its eyes gleaming with an eerie light. "You're here to play, just like all the other little ones who came before you." As the realization of their predicament sank in, Ashley and Steve exchanged a terrified glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. They turned towards the door, desperate to escape, but to their horror, they found that the once easily reachable doorknob was now far beyond their grasp, towering above them like a monument to their helplessness. "We need to get out of here," Ashley cried, her voice tinged with panic as she tugged futilely at the door. "This can't be happening." Steve's mind raced, trying to make sense of their surreal situation. "There's no way out," his voice trembling with fear as he scanned the room for an escape route. The mannequin's voice cut through the air, sending a chill down their spines. "I'm afraid leaving is not an option, my dears," it said, its tone eerily calm. "You see, you're here to play, and play you shall." Steve and Ashley turned towards the mannequin, their eyes wide with fear and their backs pressed up against the door. It approached them, its towering figure casting a long shadow over them. Ashley's heart sank as she felt a warm trickle down her leg, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she was wetting her pants in fear. The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Looks like someone had an accident," it said, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "No matter, we'll get you cleaned up in no time." With a swift motion, the mannequin scooped up Steve and Ashley in its enormous arms, carrying them away from the door and up the stairs into the daycare. Steve and Ashley struggled against its grip, but it was no use. They were at the mercy of the supernatural force that held them captive. As they were carried through the daycare, they passed by a room with empty cribs and playpens, their surroundings a surreal mix of childhood innocence and eerie abandonment. The mannequin brought them to a brightly lit room filled with changing tables and stacks of diapers, a hint to their new reality. "Now, now, little ones," the mannequin cooed, placing them on the changing tables. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for playtime." Steve and Ashley exchanged a terrified glance, their minds reeling with fear and confusion. How had they ended up in this nightmare? And more importantly, was there a way out? Chapter 2: Changed Steve's heart raced as he struggled against the firm grip of the mannequin, his muscles straining with effort. He twisted and turned, desperate to break free, but its hold on him was unyielding. Ashley, stunned by the event that had unfolded, froze. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaming down her face. But she made no sound, too shocked by the sudden events. "Let us go!" Steve shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "This isn't right! We need to leave!" But his words fell on deaf ears as the feminine figure carried them up the stairs, its movements slow and deliberate. Steve's heart sank as he realized the futility of their situation. They were at the mercy of a supernatural force, trapped in a nightmare. As they reached the top of the stairs, the mannequin carried them into a brightly lit room, the walls adorned with colorful murals of children's finger paintings. Some of them clearly cries for help, with large red letters on some of the drawings reading "LET ME GO" and "HELP!" Diaper boxes lined the walls, with two changing tables. One at the end of the wall, with a dresser adjacent to it. Across the room was a large playpen with nothing in it, almost like it was meant to be a holding cell. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Steve twisted and wiggled, managing to slip out of the mannequin's hold. He fell towards the ground, his heart pounding in his chest, only to be caught once again as the mannequin's grip tightened around him. As he dangled in the air, he met the mannequin's gaze, his eyes widening in terror as its face contorted into a grotesque expression before snapping back to its benign facade. The room around them seemed to warp and shift, along with its face. The walls pulsating with otherworldly energy. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before him. The mannequin's voice echoed in his mind, its words soft yet chilling. "You need to be more careful, little one," its tone syrupy sweet yet laced with menace. "You wouldn't want to get into trouble, would you?" Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "What do you want from us?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. But the mannequin remained silent, its painted lips curled into a twisted smile. With a flicker of movement, it released Steve from its grasp, setting him down into the playpen across from the table. "You need to wait your turn, young man," it whispered, sending shivers down Steve's spine. The mannequin then turned back to the table, placing Ashley on the changing table, its movements gentle. Ashley snapped out of her shock as she realized what the mannequin was trying to do. She started to struggle against its grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear gripping her. She watched in terror as the mannequin's hands reached for her, its touch cold and unnerving. With a swift motion, it began to undress her, stripping her of her clothes with a mechanical precision that sent shivers down her spine. "Please, let us go," Ashley pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. "We don't belong here. We just want to go home." The mannequin pressed Ashley to the changing table firmly, pulled out the straps, and tied her down to it. "I'm sorry, sweetie, only your parents can pick you up from the daycare. But It's okay; we'll take really good care of you until they get here." Its voice felt unsettling, ringing in their ears. It sounded sweet yet menacing. What is the deal with this thing? Ashley struggled against the restraints on the changing table, panic rising within her. Frantically, she attempted to undo the straps, her fingers fumbling with the buckles. "Steve, please help me!" she cried out, her voice choked with fear and desperation. But Steve was stuck in the playpen, his attempts to escape proving futile. He watched helplessly, clinging to the rim of the pen on his tiptoes, his heart aching with fear for Ashley. He watched in horror as her wet pants were removed and discarded. Ashley's eyes darted to her phone as it fell out of her pocket, a glimmer of hope flickering within her. But her hope was short-lived as the mannequin's voice filled the room, its tone stern and unsettling. "Phones are for grown-ups, little one," it admonished, its words echoing in her mind. "Children aren't allowed to play with them." With a deft movement, the mannequin picked up Ashley's phone and placed it on a shelf above the changing table, far out of her reach. Ashley's heart sank as she realized her only lifeline to the outside world was beyond her grasp. She quickly looked toward Steve, hoping he could find a way to hide his phone. Maybe they could use his to escape? As the mannequin continued to undress her, Ashley's mind raced with fear and uncertainty. She was truly at the mercy of this twisted entity, trapped in a nightmare from which she could not wake. Steve, seeing how it handled the situation with the phone and the look Ashley gave him, began to look for a place he could stash his. He knew he had to do something, anything, to keep it away from it. But as he looked around the room, all he saw was the colorful murals and the ominous diaper boxes lining the walls. Steve looked back at Ashley, meeting her gaze. He was shocked to his core. The mannequin had completely stripped her down. She was naked! Mortification and frustration boiled within him. No one was allowed to do that to her except him! Fear set in as he realized, however, that there was no way he could hide his phone on himself, not with it stripping them down to their birthday suits. He could see her face bright red with humiliation from what was unfolding. The mannequin then reached down to the shelf right below the table Ashley was on, grabbing a rectangular object that looked to be folded. "There we go, all clean now. Time to get you dressed for the day. Now, do you want to wear the princesses or the flowers, deary?" The mannequin was holding two diapers, both in bright pink. Ashley started to scream. "No! No! No! You can't do this! I don't want to wear a diaper! No!" She screamed, her pleas falling on deaf ears. "Calm down, sweetie. You'll be able to get back to playing in no time." The mannequin placed the pink flower diaper on the shelf below, setting it aside for another time. "We'll go with princesses today for the little princess who played dress up." The mannequin unfolded the diaper and lifted Ashley's legs up to slide the diaper under her bare butt. Ashley's eyes flooded with tears. Here she was, a 23-year-old woman getting put in a diaper. Every second felt painstakingly slow. She felt the mannequin lower her back onto the diaper. It was shockingly soft, softer than she would have expected. The mannequin pulled the front of the diaper up, covering her privates. The bulkiness of the material was hard to ignore. Finally, it reached to the side to grab the tape and, one by one, taped the diaper around her waist. "There we go, nice fresh diaper for the little miss. I got the perfect outfit for you, too." The mannequin cooed lovingly as if it was playing dress-up with a doll. "Here we are!" It held out a bright pink frilly dress romper. It had a zipper at the back, making it hard for little ones to remove it independently. The mannequin slid the romper up Ashley's legs, getting her feet through the leg holes, pulling up as far as it could with her still lying down. It then unbuckled her, standing her up, placing her arms through the arm holes, and finally zippering up the back to hold it all in place. "Don't you look pretty?" The mannequin smiled with a genuine smile of satisfaction at how cute she looked. Steve had a clear line of sight to Ashley; she looked just like a toddler, and even her chest looked flat in that dress. "No!" Steve shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I won't let you do this to us! We're not children! We're adults, damn it!" The mannequin's painted lips twisted into a scowl at Steve's outburst, its eyes narrowing with displeasure. With a slow, deliberate movement, it turned its head away from Ashley, whose eyes were filled with terror at the sight of the mannequin's face. Slowly, it turned its head towards Steve, its expression morphing into a grotesque visage that sent shivers down his spine. "Young man, we do not use such language in this daycare," the mannequin's voice rang out, icy and menacing. "You must learn to behave yourself. Such attitudes will not be tolerated." Before Steve could react, the mannequin twisted its body and charged toward him with surprising speed, its movements unnaturally swift. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the impact, his mind racing with fear and desperation. The mannequin's cold hands closed around him. With a sudden, violent motion, the mannequin lifted Steve into the air, its grip unyielding. Steve struggled against its hold, his muscles straining with effort, but it was futile. The mannequin's strength was beyond human, its power seemingly limitless. As Steve dangled in the air, his mind raced with fear and desperation. He cast a frantic glance towards Ashley, his eyes pleading for her help. But Ashley could only watch helplessly, her heart pounding in her chest. Thinking fast, Steve seized the opportunity to act. With a quick, desperate motion, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, his fingers closing around the familiar device. With a swift motion, he hurled it towards Ashley. Ashley's eyes widened in surprise as she caught the phone, her fingers trembling with adrenaline. She tucked it into the front of her dress, securely held in place between the soft fabric and her squished chest, concealing it from view. Her heart raced with hope as she realized they might have a chance to escape this nightmare after all. As Ashley quickly jumped off the changing table, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt the frilly fabric of the romper swish around her legs with each step. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, the soft material tickling her skin. But there was no time to dwell on her discomfort; Steve's safety was her top priority. With determination blazing in her eyes, Ashley sprinted towards Steve, her feet stumbling slightly on the unfamiliar terrain of the daycare floor. Every movement felt exaggerated in the oversized romper, the ruffles bouncing with each step. As she neared, she could see the fear etched on Steve's face, his eyes pleading for her help. Without hesitation, she raised her foot and delivered a swift, powerful kick to the back of the mannequin's knee. The impact sent a jolt of pain shooting up her leg, but she ignored it, focusing all her strength on the task at hand. The mannequin let out a mechanical groan as its artificial joints buckled beneath the force of Ashley's blow. It stumbled forward, its grip on Steve loosening as it struggled to maintain its balance. For a brief moment, it teetered on the brink of collapse, its plastic limbs flailing wildly as it fought to regain its footing. Seizing the opportunity, Steve wriggled free from the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he stumbled backward, his limbs trembling with exertion. He cast a grateful glance towards Ashley, his eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Together, they watched as the mannequin stumbled forward, its balance precarious. The mannequin teetered on the brink of falling, its arms flailing wildly. Steve and Ashley exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors of the daycare. Behind them, the mannequin let out a mechanical screech of rage, its eyes glowing with malevolent fury as it gave chase. The world around them had warped again, back to its abandoned state, the facade of the daycare gone. Terrified, Steve and Ashley refused to look back. As Ashley and Steve descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence, a sense of urgency gripped them. They dared a quick glance back and saw the mannequin, now moving on all fours with unnerving speed, closing the distance between them. Panic surged through their veins, propelling them forward faster. But in their haste, they failed to watch their surroundings. Without warning, they collided with something solid, sending them both sprawling to the ground. As they recovered from the impact and looked up, they were met with the sight of another mannequin, different from the menacing one chasing them. This mannequin had a soft, caring smile, its eyes filled with warmth and understanding. It seemed to radiate a sense of calm amidst the chaos surrounding them. The daycare around them had transformed once again, returning to its pristine state, as if nothing had happened. As the new mannequin approached, its soft, caring smile seemed to put Ashley and Steve at ease, despite their recent ordeal. They scrambled to their feet, their eyes flickering between the two mannequins, unsure of what to expect. "It looks like we've had some runaways," the new mannequin said with a chuckle, its voice soothing and gentle. It then turned, looking back upstairs to the other mannequin. "Are you alright, Nyxara?" Nyxara, the once-menacing mannequin at the top of the stairs, now stood in its pristine form, its grotesque and menacing presence seemingly erased. It smiled warmly down at the new mannequin, its eyes filled with a sense of relief. "Yes, I'm alright, Elysia," Nyxara replied, her voice now calm and reassuring. "Thank you for the assistance. These two are a bit more... rowdy." Elysia knelt down in front of Steve and Ashley, her expression kind and gentle. "You two shouldn't run off like that," she said softly. "You could get hurt. But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to keep you safe and entertained until your mommies and daddies come back to pick you up." Steve and Ashley exchanged a puzzled glance. "Mommy and Daddy?" Steve repeated, his voice tinged with confusion. "What are you talking about? We're not children," Steve protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "We're adults. We don't need babysitters." Elysia giggled at Steve's protest, her smile never faltering. "Oh, sweetie, you only think you're an adult because of playing dress-up," she said gently. "But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to take care of you now. It's time to change back into your proper clothes." Elysia picked Steve up, cradling him in her arms as she headed back upstairs. Steve struggled against her hold, his protests growing louder. "No, let me go! I'm not a child!" he cried, his voice filled with frustration and fear. Nyxara descended the stairs. Her gaze fell upon Ashley, who stood frozen in fear. Her heart sank. She watched in despair as the figure approached, its arms outstretched, ready to pick her up. Ashley instinctively stepped back, her eyes pleading for mercy, but it's expression remained unchanged, it's smile warm but unwavering. With a gentle yet firm grip, the monster like creature scooped Ashley into its arms, her touch surprisingly warm for a mannequin. Ashley's heart raced as she was carried away. She looked over her captor's shoulder, locking eyes with Steve, who was now in Elysia's care, being comforted in a way that made him feel embarrassed and frustrated. They reached out to each other, their hands stretching towards one another, but the distance between them grew with each passing step. Steve's protests grew louder as Elysia cooed soothing words to him, attempting to calm his fears. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart," Elysia murmured, rocking Steve gently in her arms. "There's no need to cry. I'm here to take care of you." Steve's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being treated like a baby. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying his facade of maturity. As Nyxara carried Ashley away, her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the daycare. She reached out desperately towards Steve, but he was already out of sight. Hearing the girl's cry about losing her friend she was playing dress-up with. Nyxara reassured the girl. "There, there, dear," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't cry. You'll see your friend again soon. But for now, let's go play with the other kids, shall we?" An innocent smile full of warmth grew on her face, feeling as if she was doing a good job taking care of the latest additions to the daycare. Chapter 3: Newfound Friends As Ashley was carried away, her mind raced with fear and confusion. She struggled against the mannequin's grip, but it was futile. She felt helpless, at the mercy of these strange and otherworldly beings. Nyxara held Ashley tightly as she stepped down the corridors of the daycare, eventually arriving at a brightly lit room filled with toys and games. Ashley's eyes widened in wonder and confusion as she took in her surroundings. The room seemed frozen in time, as if it was newly constructed or renovated, pristine in every aspect. As Nyxara gently set Ashley down on the floor, Ashley's eyes widened in shock as her gaze fell upon two figures sitting in the corner of the room. One was a woman who looked younger than herself, with long brown hair and a worried expression. The other was a middle-aged man with a rugged appearance and a look of resignation in his eyes. Both were the same small size as her and Steve, smaller than any average adult could be. Ashley approached them cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked panicly "Do you know where that thing took Steve? Do you know a way out?" The young woman and the man exchanged glances before shaking their heads. They remained silent, their eyes darting nervously towards the door. It was as if they were afraid to speak, as if there would be consequences. Frustrated by their silence, Ashley pressed on. "Please, you have to tell me something," she pleaded. "We need to find a way out of here. Do you know anything about this place? Who are those mannequins? What do they want with us?" They both remained silent, but the man slowly reached out and picked up a few toy blocks. With a deliberate motion, he arranged them on the floor to spell out two words: S-H-U-T U-P. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Was he trying to warn her? Was he telling her to stop asking questions? Before she could react, Nyxara approached, her expression stern. "It's not polite to ask too many questions," Nyxara scolded gently, her tone surprisingly motherly. "We're here to play and have fun. Isn't that right, Kelly, Nick?" Kelly and Nick nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a mixture of fear and acceptance. It was clear that they were afraid of Nyxara and what she might do if they disobeyed. Feeling defeated, Ashley backed away, her mind racing with unanswered questions. She glanced back towards the stairs, where Steve had disappeared, and felt a pang of sadness and longing. They were trapped in this nightmarish daycare, at the mercy of forces they couldn't understand or control. Ashley's heart raced as she looked back towards the man, who had spelled out "Shut up" with the toy blocks just moments ago. With trembling hands, she picked up the blocks and arranged them to spell out her name: A-S-H-L-E-Y. She held her breath, waiting for a response. Nick's eyes widened in surprise as he read her name spelled out in the blocks. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before rearranging the blocks to form his name: N-I-C-K Relief flooded through Ashley as she realized she had made a connection with one of the other trapped individuals. She felt a glimmer of hope that Nick might have some answers or insights into their situation. Gathering her courage, she formed another question with the blocks: W-H-E-R-E S-T-E-V-E. Nick's brow furrowed in concentration as he rearranged the blocks once more. With painstaking effort, he spelled out: M-O-T-H-E-R U-P-S-T-A-I-R-S. Ashley's stomach churned with unease at the mention of Steve being with the mannequin upstairs. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since they arrived at the daycare. What was happening to Steve? Was he safe? And what did Nick mean by "mother"? Before Ashley could ask any of her questions, Nick hurriedly scrambled the blocks, erasing the words he had just spelled out, as the mannequin approached to check on them. Nyxara's expression softened as she observed the trio, a smile playing on her lips. "It warms my heart to see you all getting along," Nyxara said, her voice tinged with an eerie sweetness. "Isn't it wonderful to have friends to play with?" Ashley forced a smile, nodding weakly as she tried to suppress the rising anger within her. Luckily the mannequin didn't stick around, it was satisfied at their nods. Ashley glanced at the young woman sitting in the corner, who was curiously watching them. Feeling a sense of determination, Ashley approached the girl, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi, I'm Ashley," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hesitantly reached for the toy blocks scattered on the floor. With trembling hands, she arranged the blocks to spell out her name: K-E-L-L-Y. "Kelly," Ashley repeated, nodding in acknowledgment. "Do you know anything about this place? How did you end up here?" Kelly's expression grew somber as she shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow. She seemed reluctant to speak, as if afraid of what might happen if she spoke too much. "Alright kiddies, you be good, I'm only going to be a minute." the menacing mannequin smiled, looking at the three of them in the corner. "It's snack time, and I bet you all are getting hungry" as it left the room to fetch snacks, Nick and Kelly leaned in close to Ashley, speaking in hushed whispers. "We don't have much time," Nick said, his voice urgent. "We need to be careful. Nyxara is very easy to anger. She's the one who decides when we get punished, and trust me, the simplest of things can set her off." "How long have you been here?" Ashley asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nick glanced around nervously before replying, "I've lost track of time, but I think it's been about ten years. Kelly here has been here for a few weeks, I think." Kelly nodded, confirming Nick's words. "Yeah, it's been a few weeks. I... I don't know how much longer I can take this." "What do they want with us?" Ashley whispered, her voice trembling with fear at the realization that someone had been here for so long already. What hopes do they have to escape if someone who's been here ten years still hasn't found a way out? Nick glanced towards the door once more before answering. "I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I've seen what happens to those who disobey. It's not pretty. We have to follow their rules if we want to survive." "What rules?" Ashley asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do we need to do to survive?" Nick continued to glance around nervously before answering each question. "First, we need to play along. Act like children, do what they say, and don't ask too many questions. Second, don't try to leave the daycare. The doors are locked, and if Nyxara catches you trying to escape... She'll punish you." Kelly added, "And whatever you do, don't anger Elysia. She's the other mannequin, the one who acts like a mother to us. She can be kind, but if she thinks you're a threat to the 'children,' she'll become... violent. That's how we lost David." Her eyes trailed off, a look of pure terror at whatever had taken place. Ashley's head spun with the weight of this new information. She had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. "What about Steve?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Is he in danger?" Before they could discuss further, Nyxara returned with a tray of snacks. She set it down in front of them, her smile bright and unnerving. "Here you go, my little ones," she said sweetly. "Enjoy your snacks, and remember to behave." Nick, with a forced smile plastered on his face, musters up a small voice, "Th-thank you, Miss Nyxara, for the snacks." He mimics the behavior of a grateful child, hoping to appease the unsettling presence before them. Kelly and Ashley remain silent, their expressions a mix of apprehension and obedience. Nyxara's smile widens at Nick's words, her eyes gleaming with an eerie delight. "You're welcome, sweetie," she coos, her tone saccharine yet tinged with an underlying threat. With a final glance at the trio, she turns and leaves to check on Steve, Nick leaned in closer to Ashley, his expression grave. "We need to be careful," Nick whispered urgently. "Elysia is different from Nyxara. She's... she's more motherly, but her love can be suffocating. She wants us to be her children and will do anything to she can to mother us, even if that means..." Nick's voice trailed off, but Ashley understood the implication. Elysia's protection could easily turn into possessiveness and violence. Just then, the door creaked open, and Steve was brought in by Elysia. His clothes had changed, now fitting for a toddler, and his expression was filled with concern. Ashley's heart sank at the sight of him, wondering what horrors he had endured. Steve glanced around the room, his eyes widening in shock as they landed on Ashley and the other two. He tried to speak, but he lost his words, realizing the mannequin was still there. Ashley rushed to his side, embracing him tightly, trying to offer him some comfort in this terrifying situation. "What... what is going on? Who are they?" Steve managed to stammer out, his voice trembling with fear. Ashley quickly explained what she had learned about the daycare from Nick. The little bit she learned about the two mannequins Nyxara, and Elysia, emphasizing the need to play along and not provoke the mannequins. Steve listened intently, his expression filled with disbelief and horror. As Ashley held Steve tightly, her mind raced with concern and questions. She wanted to know what had happened to him, what he had seen or experienced since they were separated. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the fear and embarrassment reflected in them. "What happened to you, Steve?" Ashley whispered, her voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?" Steve shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. "It's... it's basically the same thing that happened to you." Ashley felt a pang of sympathy for him. She knew how humiliating and degrading their experiences had been, forced to dress like toddlers, and placed in a diaper. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Steve's voice trembled as he looked into Ashley's eyes, desperation evident in his gaze. "Ashley, do you still have my phone?" he asked, trying to change the subject from their dire situation. Both Kelly and Nick's eyes widened at the question, their expressions mirroring Steve's hope. Ashley's mind raced as she remembered the phone tucked away in her dress, pinned to her chest between her breasts. She had completely forgotten about it in the chaos of their situation. "Yes, I still have it!" Ashley exclaimed, relief flooding through her. Steve's eyes lit up with hope. Ashley went to reach into her dress for it but stopped seeing Nick and Kelly looking at her. Feeling embarrassed, she turned around so her back faced them, providing a little privacy as she retrieved the phone from her dress. She handed it over to Steve so he could unlock his phone. Praying that there is a signal. They got into this whole mess because there wasn't any reception. What would be the odds of them having a signal now, of all times? The group huddled together, their hearts racing with a newfound hope as Steve unlocked his phone and discovered a single little bar. Each of them voiced their opinions on who Steve should contact for help. "We should call the police," Nick suggested, his voice filled with urgency. "They can come and rescue us from this nightmare." Ashley shook her head, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "If we place a call they'll notice right away," she whispered. "We can't lose our chance if it catches us before we make contact." Steve furrowed his brow in thought, weighing their options carefully. "What about your sister, Sarah?" he suggested, turning to Ashley. "She might be able to help us without alerting anyone else." Ashley's eyes widened in realization. "That's a good idea," she said, agreeing. "Sarah knows about our trip and could come looking for us if we don't show up. Plus, she's close by and won't attract too much attention." With their decision made, Steve quickly drafted a distress message to Sarah, explaining their situation in as much detail as possible without trying to sound too crazy by revealing too much about the supernatural elements of their predicament. They debated the wording, making sure to convey the urgency of their situation on how they have been effectively kidnapped, and are being held hostage with no way of escape or being able to contact the athorities. But before they could hit send, a shadow began to loom over them. Nyxara's voice filled the room, her tone laced with anger and suspicion. "What are you kids up to?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the phone in Steve's hand. "What are you doing with that?" Nyxara demanded, her voice cold and menacing. "You know you're not allowed to have that. Give it to me, now." Steve hesitated, clutching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew they couldn't let Nyxara take it, but he also knew that defying her would have consequences. Before he could make a decision, Nyxara lunged forward, grabbing for the phone. Steve and Ashley struggled to keep it out of her reach, but Nyxara was too strong. With a swift motion, she snatched the phone from Steve's hand. "You disobedient children," Nyxara scolded, her voice filled with anger. "You know the rules. No phones. Those are for adults only!" You'll both be punished for this." Steve and Ashley exchanged worried glances, seeing the mannequin's face warp along with the daycare. Realizing they had just made a dangerous enemy. They knew they would have to be more careful than ever if they wanted to escape the daycare and survive. Before Steve could even formulate a response, Elysia intervened, her voice calm yet firm as she stepped forward to defend the frightened group of "children." "Now, now, Nyxara," Elysia interjected, her tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps they were simply trying to decide what to do with the phone. After all, they are just children, and it's natural for them to be curious." Nyxara's eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced by Elysia's defense of the children. However, after a moment of tense silence, she seemed to relent. With a final glare at Steve and Ashley, she turned and headed upstairs, taking the phone with her. Steve and Ashley let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Elysia's intervention. However, they knew they had narrowly avoided a dangerous situation. They needed to be more cautious. Nick, seeing an opportunity to gain favor, turned to Elysia with a forced smile. "Thank you, Miss Elysia," he said, his voice filled with false cheerfulness. "We'll be sure to behave and not cause any more trouble." Elysia nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Of course, my dear," she replied, her tone soothing. "Just remember, we're all here to play and have fun. Now, why don't you all go and enjoy your snacks? I'm sure you must be hungry." Nick nodded obediently, then turned to Ashley and Steve, a look of concern on his face. "Did you manage to send the message?" he asked quietly. Steve shook his head, a look of disappointment crossing his features. "No, I couldn't," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "It took the phone before I could hit send." The whole group hung their head in defeat, now what are they going to do? They slowly began to shuffle their feet over towards the little table that sat in the playroom where their snacks were located. Suddenly, Steve doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach as a sharp pang shot through his abdomen. Ashley's eyes widened in alarm as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with worry. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Chapter 4: A Bottle?! *Steve's point of view when they separated* Steve struggled against the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was filled with embarrassment, fear, and confusion. This couldn't be happening. They were adults, not children. But the more he protested, the tighter it held him, its comforting words trying to soothe him only made him angrier and angrier at the situation he found himself in. As they reached the top of the stairs, Steve's protests grew more desperate. "Please, let me go! We're not children!" he pleaded, but its smile remained unfazed. It carried him back into the changing room, lined with diaper boxes and changing tables. Setting him down gently on a changing table, it cooed, "It's time to get you cleaned up and changed, sweetie." Steve's face burned with embarrassment as it began to undress him, revealing his boxer briefs underneath his pants. He tried to resist, but its gentle yet firm touch made it impossible. It secured him to the table just as the other mannequin did with Ashley. He was stuck now; the straps were locked in a way that refused to budge for him, no matter how hard he tried. Steve refused just to let this happen; he refused to get diapered like Ashley. He threw his body around as much as he could in hopes of making it impossible for the mannequin to diaper him, but it was no use. It just proceeded as if dealing with a difficult child. It just continued to change Steve, cooing softly, "Oh, you must be hungry, that's why you're so fussy. Don't worry. We'll get you something to fill your belly after this." Steve's eyes widened with terror. If they were willing to diaper them because they thought they were children, what would it try to feed them? Not only that, but these things are otherworldly, who knows what this food even was. His embarrassment deepened further as he realized the mannequin was treating him like a toddler in need of care. With gentle efficiency, it removed Steve's shirt. He felt humiliated and helpless as it changed him and expertly fastened a fresh diaper around his waist. He tried to maintain his composure, but the situation was too surreal. He was a grown man being treated like a toddler, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, he saw it grab a yellow duck onesie and a pair of tiny jean overalls, completing his transformation from a grown man to a toddler-like figure. As it finished diapering him, it smiled warmly. "There, now you're ready to play," it said cheerfully. "But first, let's get you that bottle" Before Steve could protest, it lifted him off of the changing table, and back into it's arms carrying him out of the room. Steve's mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body was powerless against the mannequin's strength. It brought him into the nursery across the hall from the changing room. The room was filled with colorful toys, soft blankets, and a row of cribs along one wall. The mannequin placed Steve in one of the cribs before moving to the mini fridge in the corner. Steve watched in disbelief as the mannequin retrieved a bottle from the fridge and placed it in a bottle warmer. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was a grown man, trapped in a nightmare where he was being treated like a helpless child. Steve's heart pounded as he watched the mannequin move about the nursery, his mind racing with desperation. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of a way out, but all he saw were rows of cribs, the mini fridge in the corner, a sink, locked cabinets, and the imposing figure of the mannequin looming over him. There were no windows, other doors, or vents they could climb through. This room was a secure prison designed strictly for sleeping. His eyes flicked to the bars of the crib, his stomach churning with frustration. The bars were far too high for him to be able to climb out. He could try to get up and out, but realistically he knew doing so now, would be pointless, the mannequin would catch him, after taking two steps, there was no way he could escape it. How could they possibly escape this nightmare? It seemed like every avenue was blocked, every attempt at resistance futile. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his panic at bay. The mannequin returned to his side, a warm bottle in its hand, a sickly sweet smell emanating from its contents. Steve recoiled instinctively, his throat constricting with revulsion. He had no idea what was in that bottle, but he knew he couldn't trust it. The mannequin offered the bottle to Steve with a gentle smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Drink up. It's just warm milk," it cooed. Steve's eyes widen in worry. He is lactose intolerant, he can't drink milk, it messes with his stomach. He stood there staring at the mannequin, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to play with this twisted game, but he was also trapped in a crib too tall to escape from. The mannequin's smile faltered slightly as it noticed Steve's hesitation. "Come on now, sweetie," it urged, its tone still gentle but with a hint of impatience. "Don't be difficult. You need to drink your milk like a good little boy." Steve's mind raced as he weighed his options. Drinking the milk could have serious consequences for his lactose intolerance, but defying the mannequin could lead to unknown punishments or further confinement. Trapped in the crib with no means of escape, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. With a heavy heart, Steve reluctantly reached out for the bottle, his fingers trembling as he accepted it from the mannequin's grasp. The sickly, sweet smell assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn with unease. He glanced up at the mannequin, silently pleading for mercy, but its expression remained unmoved. As Steve slowly brought the bottle to his lips, he hesitated again, his inner turmoil evident in his furrowed brow. The mannequin's patience wore thin, and with a firm yet gentle grip, it lifted him from the crib and settled him in its arms, cradling him against its rigid form. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself ensnared in the mannequin's embrace, his muscles tense with apprehension. He wanted to resist, to fight against the unnatural force that held him captive, but he knew it was futile. He was at the mercy of the mannequin's whims, powerless to defy its will. Settling into a rocking chair, the mannequin began to sway back and forth, its movements rhythmic and soothing. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he felt the bottle pressed against his lips, the warmth of the liquid seeping through the bottle's nipple. With a sense of resignation, Steve reluctantly began to drink the milk. Each swallow was a struggle, his mind riveting at the thought of what it might do to his body. But the mannequin showed no signs of relenting, its grip unyielding as it forced him to consume the entire contents of the bottle. Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he fought against the urge to retch. He felt like a helpless child being fed against his will, stripped of his autonomy and dignity. But no matter how much he resisted, the mannequin's hold remained firm, its eerie presence casting a shadow over him. As he sucked down the milk, the mannequin sat there, holding him. Staring into his eyes, lovingly watching him with a maternal gaze. "There, there, everything will be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. Steve continued to drink the milk, feeling defeated and helpless in the mannequin's arms. As he reluctantly finished the bottle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The other mannequin from earlier, the one that took Ashley away, the darker and more menacing mannequin, entered the nursery, causing Steve's heart to race with fear. Its presence was unnerving, its cold, lifeless eyes scanning the room. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he realized Ashley was missing from its side. Its gaze lingered on Steve briefly, sending a shiver down his spine before it turned to the mannequin holding him. "Elysia, the snacks for the kids are out," it stated in a gravelly voice, its tone devoid of warmth or emotion. Elysia, the mannequin holding him, smiled warmly. "Thank you, Nyxara. This one has already had his bottle, so he might not eat much," she replied, motioning towards Steve. Nyxara nodded silently before turning and leaving the nursery. Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that it had left without incident. The mannequin holding him then carried Steve downstairs to join the other "children." As they descended the stairs, Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ashley, among others who had been transformed into childlike figures. She looked just as bewildered and frightened as he felt. Chapter 5: A Messy Situation Steve's face contorted in pain as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ashley's heart raced with worry as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with concern. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with alarm. "What's wrong?" Steve tried to brush off the issue, but his voice was strained with discomfort. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, his face pale with pain. "It'll probably pass." But the sharp pang in his abdomen refused to be ignored. Steve's attempts to downplay the situation only made Ashley more concerned. She reached out to touch his forehead, checking for signs of fever, but before she could say anything, Elysia approached them, her eyes filled with concern. "What's the matter, little one?" Elysia asked, her voice gentle as she knelt beside Steve. "Are you feeling unwell?" Steve winced as Elysia's hand touched his forehead, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to pull away, but the figure's other hand shot out and clenched his bicep. She tilted her head, studying him with curiosity and concern. "What did you do to him!?" Ashley interjected, her voice filled with worry and panic. "He was fine before you took him upstairs." Elysia did not regard Ashley's concern, and her expression was sympathetic. "Poor thing," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "It must be hard for you, being away from your mommy and daddy." She completely ignored Ashley's questioning. Steve felt frustrated at the creature's words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He didn't want to admit to Ashley that he was fed a bottle like a baby, but he couldn't stand the thought of being talked down like he was a child. He tried to protest, to tell it that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated like one, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded weakly, unable to meet it's gaze. Elysia's eyes softened with compassion as she reached out to pat Steve's back, her touch surprisingly comforting despite the circumstances. "There, there, little one," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't worry. Elysia is here to take care of you." But as Elysia tried to comfort him, Steve's stomach lurched with increasing intensity, sending waves of nausea coursing through his body. He gasped in pain, his face contorted with discomfort as he struggled to hold back the building pressure in his bowels. "I-I need to use the bathroom," Steve managed to stammered out, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, I need to go..." But Elysia seemed oblivious to Steve's distress, focusing solely on comforting him. She reached out to pick him up, her touch gentle as she lifted him into her arms. Steve's stomach churned with unease as she began to rock him back and forth, her movements only making the pressure in his bowels harder to hold in. "Shh, shh, it's okay, little one," Elysia murmured, her voice soothing yet distant. "Everything will be alright, you'll see." But Steve knew he couldn't wait any longer. The urge to use the bathroom was becoming unbearable. He struggled to break free from Elysia's grasp, his voice trembling with urgency. "I-I need to go," he insisted, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, let me go..." But Elysia seemed unable to understand Steve's words, and her focus was solely on comforting him. Steve's heart sank as he realized he was running out of time. Steve's stomach cramps intensified, and his eyes darted around the room in a panic. He caught sight of the other male in the group, unable to recall his name. His eyes were wide with understanding. Steve knew he must know why Elysia wasn't responding to his pleas. Steve recalled being told that the other man had been here longer; he must have learned how the mannequins responded and worked. But the man said nothing. Steve's desperation grew as he realized he couldn't hold on much longer. He wanted to reach out and beg for help, but he hesitated, unsure of what they might do or, more accurately, what they could do. These things were huge in comparison to them. Steve's face twisted in agony as the pressure in his bowels reached its breaking point. With a sickening realization, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer. His stomach clenched with a force he couldn't contain, and before he could even register what was happening, he felt the warmth spreading in his diaper. A warm, mushy sensation filled his diaper, the smell hitting him almost instantly. He gasped, mortified, as he accidentally shit himself for the first time since he was a kid. The hot, mushy diarrhea surged forth, filling the confines of his diaper with a sickening squelch. Steve's cheeks burned with humiliation as it was happening, his body betraying him in the most mortifying way possible. He whimpered in shame, unable to stop the humiliating torrent of mess. "O-oh no..." Steve whimpered, his voice filled with shame and embarrassment. He could feel the mess spreading, the diaper growing heavy and uncomfortable against his skin. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Elysia, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and horror as she watched Steve's distress unfold before her. The pained expression on his face, coupled with the sickening realization of what was happening, sent a wave of nausea churning in her stomach. She took a step back, her hands instinctively covering her mouth to stifle a gasp of disbelief. Kelly, who had been observing the scene with a mixture of concern and fear, recoiled slightly at the smell that filled the air. Her eyes darted between Steve and Ashley, a small look of disgust crossing her features. But beneath the disgust, there was a flicker of embarrassment, a memory resurfacing in her mind. Elysia's gentle teasing cut through the air, her voice light yet mocking. "Oh dear, it seems little Steve had a little accident," she remarked, her tone almost sing-song. "Such a messy little one, aren't you?" Steve's cheeks burned with shame as Elysia's words sank in. He could feel the weight of his messy diaper pressing against him, the warmth and smell serving as a reminder of his humiliating predicament. He wanted to protest, to tell Elysia that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated as such, but the words caught in his throat. How could he even say that when he was in her arms in a dirty diaper? Elysia's demeanor shifted slightly as she continued to speak, her voice softer yet tinged with authority. "It's alright, little one," she said. "We'll have to get you cleaned up and changed. But first, let's get you something to drink and some snacks. That should give you plenty of time to finish anything else still in your belly," she giggled. Steve could only stare at it in disbelief; not only did this thing just force him to shit himself, but it was going to make him stay in it till it deemed he could be changed! His cheeks burned with shame and resentment. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable squishiness of his diaper. But the smell, the warmth, it was all too much. He felt like a helpless child, unable to control his own body. Elysia set him back down on the ground, her touch seemed surprisingly gentle and caring despite the humiliating situation. Steve felt a rush of relief as he was freed from her grasp, but it was short-lived. The reality of his messy diaper felt like a ton of bricks, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Steve's gaze fell on Ashley as his tormentor turned away to attend to something else. Her expression was a mix of shock, disgust, and pity. Steve felt a lump form in his throat as he realized how she must see him now, as a helpless, soiled child. He wanted to explain, to tell her it was because of the milk, but the words were stuck in his throat. He was too embarrassed and in shock to say anything. He stood there in front of the others, feeling utterly humiliated and vulnerable, his mind flooded with embarrassment. His stomach still churned from being forced to consume milk, but now embarrassment added to his discomfort. He desperately wished he could disappear, to escape from this nightmare. But trapped in this bizarre reality, there was nowhere to run, no way to hide from the humiliation. Ashley hovered nearby, her expression torn between concern for Steve and disgust at the situation. She wanted to comfort and reassure him that everything would be alright, but seeing him in a messy diaper was too much to bear. She glanced at Nick and Kelly, silently pleading for some form of understanding or support. Nick's gaze met Ashley's, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of empathy in his eyes. But before she could say anything, the mannequin returned, interrupting the tense silence with her cheerful demeanor. "Alright, little ones, that's enough dilly-dallying. Go eat your snacks." Elysia chirped, her voice bubbly as she set a high chair tray of snacks on the table next to their snacks. "I've got some yummy treats for you all to enjoy." The figure ushered them towards the table. Ashley looked at Steve sympathetically, her heart aching for him. But as they approached the table, her attention was diverted by a bottle of milk sitting next to the highchair. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god," Ashley whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of Elysia bustling around. "Steve, the milk... That's why..." Steve's eyes went wide with horror as he realized there was another bottle of milk. His stomach was still agitated from the first bottle; what would a second one do to his stomach and bowels? The thought of drinking it now, in his current state, filled him with dread and disgust. Especially with others around. He couldn't, not again. But before he could do anything, Elysia approached him with the bottle, her smile bright and cheerful. "Here you go, little one," she said, her voice sweet yet tinged with authority. "A nice bottle of milk to help keep you hydrated. Isn't that nice?" Steve's stomach churned with unease as he stared at the bottle, his mind racing with fear. He wanted to refuse, to push it away, or at least tell them he couldn't drink milk. But the fear of what would happen if he was difficult for them kept him frozen. Until his brain finally kicked back in. Desperate for escape, Steve made a sudden dash towards the door, his heart pounding with adrenaline. But before he could reach it, a hand shot out, catching him by the arm with surprising strength. "Uh-uh, little one," Elysia scolded, her voice firm yet gentle. "You know you're not allowed to wander off by yourself. It's not safe. Besides, we need to make your tummy feel better. You need to stay hydrated and drink as much as possible." Steve's heart sank as he realized his escape attempt had failed. He hung his head in defeat as it led him to the highchair, her grip firm. As Steve felt guided towards the highchair, panic surged through his veins. He couldn't bear the thought of being strapped into that humiliating contraption, especially with his messy diaper weighing him down, feeling it slightly sway with each step. His mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape, but the figure's hold on him was unyielding. "No, no, please!" Steve pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and humiliation. He tried to pry its fingers from his arm with his free hand. "I-I don't want to go in there. Please, let me go!" But Elysia remained unmoved; its expression was that of a smiling, authoritative parent dealing with an unruly child. She gently guided Steve towards the highchair, her grip firm. Steve struggled against her grasp, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought against the inevitable. Ashley rushed to Steve's side, her hands reaching out to try and pull him away from Elysia. "Let him go!" she demanded, her voice filled with determination. "He can't handle lactose. It will only make him sick!" Ashley's attempt to intervene was met with a sudden and chilling presence. The darker mannequin appeared, her tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. Her eyes glinted with a malevolent gleam as she surveyed the scene, her presence enough to send a shiver down Ashley's spine. "What's going on here?" Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a wave of fear through the group. Everyone quickly averted their gaze from Nyxara's chilling presence, and a tense silence settled over the room. Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the scene unfold, her hands trembling with fear. She knew they were at the mercy of these supernatural entities, and any attempt to defy them could have dire consequences. With a subtle yet commanding gesture from Nyxara, Elysia resumed her task of setting Steve up in the high chair. Steve's heart sank as he was scooped up, realizing there was no escaping his humiliating fate. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as Elysia's firm hold guided him toward the highchair. As he was set in the highchair, he couldn't suppress a whimper of humiliation. The squishy mess in his diaper shifted and spread, the warmth and wetness pressing against him from all sides. He could feel the mess oozing and squelching in ways he never thought possible, air bubbles escaping out the back and sending a sickening sensation down his spine. The smell of his own mess filled the air, a nauseating reminder of his humiliating predicament. Steve's cheeks burned with shame as he realized the others could smell it too, their expressions filled with disgust. He wanted to disappear, to escape from this nightmare of being trapped in a messy diaper in front of his girlfriend and strangers. But as Elysia secured the straps of the highchair around him, Steve knew there was no escape. He was completely at the mercy of these entities, powerless to resist their commands. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hung his head in defeat, the weight of his humiliation crushing down on him like a ton of bricks. Meanwhile, Ashley watched helplessly from the sidelines, her heart breaking for Steve. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to reassure him that everything would be alright, but she knew there was nothing she could do. They were all trapped in this bizarre reality, subject to the whims of these otherworldly beings. Steve's heart pounded with fear and desperation as Elysia approached with the bottle. He couldn't bear the thought of drinking the milk, not after what happened last time. With a surge of panic, he reached out to knock the bottle from Elysia's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. The room fell silent as the bottle rolled across the floor, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere. Steve's heart raced as he braced himself for the repercussions of his actions. He expected Elysia to scold him, to punish him for his defiance. But what happened next caught him completely off guard. A chill swept through the room as Nyxara's imposing figure stepped forward, her eyes narrowed with a menacing glare. Steve shrank back in his seat, his heart pounding with fear as he met her gaze. He knew he had crossed a line. "Elysia," Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a shiver down Steve's spine. "It seems our little friend here needs a lesson in obedience." Elysia nodded obediently, her expression shifting from sympathy to determination. She reached down to retrieve the fallen bottle, her movements deliberate and purposeful. Steve's heart sank as he realized he had sealed his own fate. He had defied the rules of this twisted reality, and now he would have to pay the price. With a sense of dread, Steve watched as Elysia approached once again, the bottle held firmly in her grasp. He wanted to protest, to beg for mercy, but he knew it was futile. Elysia's smile was gone now, replaced by a stern expression as she held out the bottle to Steve. "Drink," she commanded, her voice firm yet cold. Steve hesitated, his hands trembling with fear. He knew he couldn't refuse, not with Nyxara's menacing presence looming over him. With a heavy heart, he reached out to take the bottle, his fingers closing around it with a sense of resignation. But as he brought the bottle to his lips, a wave of defiance surged through him. He couldn't let them break him, not without a fight. With a sudden burst, he threw the bottle aside once again, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Nyxara's eyes narrowed with fury as she watched the bottle clatter to the floor once more. "Enough," she growled, her voice dripping with menace. "You will drink, or you will suffer the consequences." Steve's heart raced as he met Nyxara's glare, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He knew he had pushed his luck too far, but he couldn't bring himself to submit. He refused to be treated like a helpless child, to be forced into submission by these creatures. But before he could muster a response, he felt a sudden pressure in his chest, like a weight pressing down on him from all sides. He gasped for air, his lungs burning with the effort as he struggled to breathe. Panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even scream. Nyxara's voice echoed in his mind, cold and commanding. "You will obey," she whispered, her words sending a chill down his spine. "Or you will suffer." Steve's world spun as he struggled against the invisible force holding him captive. He tried to fight back, to break free from Nyxara's control, but it was no use. He was completely at her mercy, powerless to resist her will. Nyxara claimed the bottle from the floor and forced it back into his grip. With a sense of resignation, Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to drink from the bottle, his throat burning with each swallow. He felt a surge of nausea rise up in his stomach, but he forced it down, knowing that defiance would only bring more suffering. As he drank, he felt a strange sense of detachment wash over him, like he was watching himself from a distance. He knew he was losing himself, giving in to the darkness that threatened to consume him. But he couldn't stop, couldn't fight back. He was trapped in this nightmare, powerless to escape. As the last drop of milk slid down his throat, Steve felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He slumped back in his seat, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay conscious. He knew he had lost this battle, that Nyxara had won. As darkness closed in around him, he couldn't help but wonder what other horrors awaited him in this twisted realm. Nyxara's gaze shifted to Elysia, her eyes cold and calculating. "Once the children finish with their snacks, bring Steve to me for his punishment," she commanded, her voice dripping with malice. Elysia nodded obediently, its expression devoid of emotion. She turned to Steve, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, little one," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But you must learn to listen. It's for your own good."
  2. Description An introverted volcanologist, Olivia, stumbles across a demon during a hike up a volcano. The demon of humiliation follows her and makes her do embarrassing things such as wetting herself and messing herself. Chapter 1: Olivia’s Volcano Trek in Montserrat The heat was stifling, even through the thick protective suit Olivia wore. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she ascended the jagged slopes of the Soufrière Hills volcano. The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur, a constant reminder of the volatile power slumbering beneath her feet. Yet, the danger was intoxicating. Olivia thrived on the adrenaline, the thrill of exploring the raw, untamed heart of the earth. Montserrat’s landscape was a testament to the volcano’s might. Lush rainforest abruptly gave way to barren ash fields, scarred by the fury of past eruptions. Olivia’s boots crunched on the brittle ground as she navigated the desolate terrain, her eyes scanning the landscape for signs of activity. Her instruments beeped and whirred, recording every subtle tremor, every shift in temperature, every whisper of the volcano’s breath. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ash fields, Olivia decided to make camp for the night. She settled down in a small depression, shielded from the wind by a jagged outcrop of rock. As darkness fell, she huddled closer to the fire, the flickering flames providing a small haven of warmth in the chilling night air. Suddenly, a bone-chilling cold enveloped her. The fire sputtered and died, plunging her into darkness. A sinister presence seemed to fill the air, a silent menace that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Then, she saw it. A figure emerged from the shadows, its form shimmering and shifting like the flames of a dying fire. It was short and gaunt, with eyes that burned like embers. Olivia gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. The figure moved closer, its eyes fixed on her with a malevolent intensity. Olivia tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or even breathe. The figure reached out, its hand glowing with an eerie light. It touched her forehead, and a wave of icy cold washed over her. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the figure vanished, leaving Olivia trembling and alone in the darkness. The rest of the night was a blur. Olivia stumbled back to base camp at first light, her mind reeling with the terrifying encounter. She boarded the plane home in a daze, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of fear. But the horror wasn’t over. As the plane soared through the clouds, Olivia felt a cold sensation creeping up her legs. She tried to ignore it, but it grew stronger, more insistent. Finally, in a moment of mortifying humiliation, she realised she had wet herself. She rushed to the nearest bathroom with her bag, luckily she carried a extra set of clothes for if she spilt something on herself. She quickly got unclothed, cleaned herself and put on the fresh pair of clothes before quickly stuffing her bag with the soiled pants and panties along with her other clothes. As Olivia stepped off the plane onto British soil, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still being watched. The unseen presence that had tormented her on the volcano seemed to have followed her home. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that her ordeal was far from over. Chapter 2: Arriving Home The taxi pulled up to the curb, its engine sputtering into silence. Olivia stepped out onto the familiar pavement, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the volcanic heat she had recently escaped. She lugged her heavy suitcase up the path, her keys jingling in her trembling hand. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door and stepped into the comforting darkness of her home. The house was silent, save for the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Olivia flicked on the light switch, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She dragged her suitcase into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, exhaustion washing over her. But the unease that had settled in her gut on the plane refused to dissipate. A cold dread clung to her like a second skin, a constant reminder of the unseen presence that haunted her. With a sigh, Olivia pushed herself off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen, hoping a cup of tea would soothe her frayed nerves. As she entered the brightly lit room, her heart lurched. There, perched casually on the kitchen counter, was the demon. It hadn’t changed. It was still the same gaunt figure, with eyes that burned like coals. It watched her with a chilling intensity, a smirk playing on its lips. Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Surprised to see me?” the demon purred, her voice like the rasp of dry leaves. Chapter 3: Olivia’s Not So Welcoming Guest “Aw, did I scare you wittle Olivia? Make you wet your panties like a baby on the plane?” the demon sneered, its voice dripping with malice. “Don’t worry, it’s only going to get worse. Maybe you’ll need these to keep you dry.” It held up an adult diaper, its own grotesque face leering from the front, surrounded by erupting volcanoes. Olivia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and fury. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” She clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with defiance. “This is wrong. You can’t just invade my life and humiliate me. I won’t let you!” “Such anger,” the demon murmured, feigning concern. “Is it because you can’t control your bladder, or is there something else troubling you, dear? Perhaps I can help alleviate your distress… if you’re willing to cooperate.” Olivia gasped, her legs trembling as she realized she was wetting herself again. “Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you want from me? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, just please stop this!” A dark shadow fell over the demon’s face as it spoke. “You will obey me, Olivia. You will wear the diapers, and you will do so without complaint. Failure to comply will result in… consequences.” Its voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Olivia’s voice trembled despite her defiant words. “No, no, no!” she cried, backing away from the demon. “I won’t do it! I refuse! You can’t make me wear those… those things. I’m not a baby anymore!” “Well, well, well,” the demon drawled, its voice thick with sarcasm. “Looks like someone needs a little assistance with their wardrobe.” It snapped its fingers, and Olivia found herself clad in the demon’s personalized diaper. “Voila! A fashion statement fit for a queen… or should I say, a baby?” The demon chortled, revelling in Olivia’s mortification. Olivia’s body shook with rage and humiliation as she futilely tugged at the diaper. “This is wrong!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the house. “You can’t do this to me! I’m not your plaything! You have no right!” The diaper was not coming off of her. “This is just the beginning, Olivia,” the demon cackled, its voice filled with glee. “You will wear this diaper as a constant reminder of your helplessness. And when you’ve had enough, when you’re broken and begging for release, then you may grovel at my feet for a changing.” With a final, mocking bow, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia trapped in her degrading predicament wearing just a diaper and t-shirt. Chapter 4: On Purpose The moment the demon vanished, a burning thirst overtook Olivia. Her throat felt like parchment, her mouth a desert. She stumbled to the kitchen, diaper crinkling, her hands shaking as she filled glass after glass with water, gulping it down desperately. A wave of nausea followed, a sickening realization dawning upon her. This was the demon’s game. The thirst, the diaper – it was all a cruel ploy to break her. And with the amount of water she’d consumed, she knew she’d soon be wetting her diaper. Olivia’s stomach churned as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Damn it, she thought, her voice catching in her throat. She had to find a way to avoid soiling this diaper. A walk, maybe? Fresh air might clear her head. She waddled into the living room, the diaper’s plastic crinkling with each awkward step. Reaching the stairs, she gripped the banister, hauling herself up one agonizing step at a time. In her bedroom, she grabbed a pair of jeans, relief flooding her as she managed to pull them up over the bulky diaper. But as soon as the zipper closed, the denim vanished, leaving her exposed once more. “No!” she cried, a sob escaping her lips. They were her favorite jeans, a soft, worn reminder of simpler times. Now, she was trapped in this infernal diaper, a prisoner in her own home. The thought of venturing outside, of facing the world’s judgment with a demon’s face plastered across her backside, on a diaper of all things, was unbearable. Despair washed over her, threatening to drown her in its icy depths. She needed a distraction, something to anchor her to reality. Spotting her old colouring book on the shelf, she snatched it up. Flipping through the pages, her eyes landed on a familiar image: a volcano, its slopes bathed in fiery reds and oranges. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Volcanoes used to be her passion, her refuge. Now, they were a symbol of her torment. The volcano on the coloring page stared back at Olivia, a mocking reminder of her predicament. Crayons in hand, she tried to focus, but her thoughts kept returning to the demon’s taunting words and the humiliating diaper encasing her. Each rustle of the plastic felt like a brand, a constant reminder of her helplessness. Desperate for a distraction, she dumped out a jigsaw puzzle, hoping the intricate pieces would occupy her mind. For a while, it worked. But as the image of a tranquil meadow began to take shape, a familiar pressure built in her bladder. Olivia squirmed, squeezing her thighs together, her focus shattering. The potty dance she’d outgrown decades ago made a reappearance, a desperate attempt to hold back the inevitable. But the urge became unbearable, a searing pain radiating through her lower abdomen. With a defeated sigh, Olivia released a tiny trickle, hoping to relieve the pressure and stop after. But the floodgates opened, and a warm steady stream poured into the diaper, she was soaking the absorbent padding on purpose. The heat spread through her groin and to her bum, a mix of shame and a strange, forbidden thrill. It was a surrender, a perverse fulfilment of the demon’s twisted desire. Olivia stood over the jigsaw puzzle, the sodden diaper clinging to her skin, a warm, but cold reminder of her degradation. The stench of urine filled her nostrils, a wave of shame washing over her. She couldn’t stay like this, wallowing in her own filth. With renewed determination, she tugged at the diaper’s fastenings, her nails digging into the unyielding plastic. A desperate trip to the kitchen yielded a pair of scissors, but even those proved useless against the demon’s magic. Trapped, defeated, she sank to the floor, the wet diaper chilling her princess parts. Never in her life had she felt so violated, so utterly helpless. Yet, a flicker of defiance remained. She wouldn’t let this demon break her. Returning to the puzzle, she forced her mind to focus on the remaining pieces. As the final piece clicked into place, a triumphant smile briefly touched her lips, quickly replaced by a gnawing hunger. Her stomach rumbled, demanding attention. The diaper squished and crinkled unpleasantly with each step as she made her way back to the kitchen. Wrenching open the fridge, she grabbed the container of prune stew she’d prepared before her trip. She devoured it greedily, the sweetness a temporary comfort. Avocado toast followed, the familiar routine offering a semblance of normalcy in this bizarre, degrading situation. Chapter 5: Uh oh… Olivia pushed away her empty plate, a wave of nausea replacing her hunger. As if summoned by her discomfort, the demon reappeared, a fresh diaper dangling from its bony fingers. “Ready to admit defeat, little one?” its voice oozed with smug satisfaction. “All it takes is a simple plea. Just ask nicely, and I’ll grant you the sweet relief of a clean diaper.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but defiance hardened her voice. “I’ll never beg you for anything,” she retorted. “Get me out of this diaper, now!” The demon’s smile widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Oh, but you belong in it, don’t you, Olivia?” It gestured towards the dampness spreading across her thighs. “You’ve already proven that.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet the demon’s taunting eyes. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her. “And here’s a little secret,” the demon continued, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That prune stew you just devoured? It’s going to make you… well, let’s just say you’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later. See you bright and early tomorrow, Olivia.” With a final, mocking chuckle, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia frozen in horror. The implications of its words hit her like a thunderbolt. She’d wet the diaper, and now… now she was going to soil it. The thought was unbearable, a new level of degradation she hadn’t anticipated. “No,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible. But it was too late. The demon was gone, and Olivia was left alone to face the consequences of her actions, her stomach churning with dread, shame and stew. Panic rising in her throat, Olivia bolted from the kitchen, her sodden diaper slapping against her thighs. She needed a plan, a way to escape this humiliating fate. But the demon’s words echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of her powerlessness. “You’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later.” Her frantic search for a solution led her to the bathroom, where she frantically rummaged through drawers and cabinets. Toilet paper, sanitary pads, even a plunger—nothing seemed capable of staving off the inevitable. A wave of nausea swept over her, a visceral reaction to the thought of soiling herself in front of the demon. She collapsed onto the cold tile floor, tears welling in her eyes. Was this really happening? Was this her life now, at the mercy of a sadistic demon and a humiliating diaper? Time seemed to warp and stretch as Olivia sat huddled on the bathroom floor, her mind a whirlwind of panic and humiliation. The initial wave of nausea subsided, replaced by a dull ache in her lower abdomen. She knew what was coming, but the thought of succumbing to the demon’s twisted game filled her with a visceral revulsion. Minutes turned into an agonizing eternity. The pressure in her bowels intensified, each gurgle a symphony of impending doom. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her legs trembled with the effort of holding back. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers digging into her thighs, a desperate attempt to maintain control. But it was a losing battle. With a defeated groan, Olivia finally relented, her body betraying her resolve. A warm, viscous substance oozed into the diaper, a sickening contrast to the chill of her fear-soaked skin. The stench filled the small bathroom, a pungent reminder of what she just did in her diaper. She buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body. The demon had won, for now. But deep within her, a spark of defiance remained, a tiny ember refusing to be extinguished. Exhaustion finally claimed Olivia, her body collapsing onto the bed, the soiled diaper a heavy, shameful weight against her skin. Sleep came fitfully, plagued by nightmares of the demon’s leering face and the suffocating stench of her own waste. Each toss and turn was a reminder of her predicament, the diaper chafing against her raw skin, a constant source of discomfort and humiliation. She had succumbed to the demon’s twisted game, her own actions fuelling its cruel amusement. The weight of her shame was crushing, a dark cloud suffocating her spirit. Yet, even in the depths of her despair, a flicker of defiance refused to die. This was not the end, she vowed silently. She would find a way to break free, to reclaim her dignity and her life. Chapter 6: You got me begging… Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom. Olivia stirred, a groan escaping her lips as she tried to stretch her cramped limbs. But something was amiss, a sticky warmth clinging to her skin, a foul odor invading her nostrils. Memories of the previous night flooded back, and a wave of nausea washed over her. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” a voice purred, its honeyed sweetness a jarring contrast to the demon’s grotesque form. Olivia jumped as her eyes snapped open, her gaze colliding with the demon perched on the edge of her bed. It wore a sickeningly cheerful grin, its eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “How was your night? Did you sleep well?” Olivia recoiled, pulling the soiled diaper closer to her body, a futile attempt to shield herself from the demon’s scrutiny. “Go away,” she croaked, her voice raspy from sleep and shame. “Oh, come on now, don’t be like that,” the demon chided, its voice dripping with mock concern. “We have so much to discuss. After all, it’s a big day for you, isn’t it? Your first full day in diapers.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. “Leave me alone,” she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. She tried to sit up, but the diaper’s weight and the lingering nausea held her back. “Oh, come on, Olivia,” the demon coaxed, its voice dripping with false sympathy. “You can’t stay in that dirty diaper all day. It’s uncomfortable, unsanitary, and… well, frankly, it smells awful.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The demon was right, of course. She desperately needed a change, but the thought of begging for it, of submitting to its twisted game, made her stomach churn. The demon leaned closer, its breath hot against Olivia’s skin. “Just ask me nicely, Olivia. Say the words, and I’ll grant you relief.” A war raged within Olivia. Pride and defiance battled against the overwhelming urge for cleanliness and comfort. Finally, her resolve crumbled. “Please,” she choked out, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. “Please change me.” The demon recoiled, its grin twisting into a sneer. “That’s not how you ask for a favor, Olivia,” it chided, its voice sharp as a whip. “Where’s the gratitude? The humility? The desperate plea for my mercy?” Olivia’s cheeks burned with renewed shame. She swallowed hard, the words sticking in her throat like jagged shards of glass. “Please,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, master, would you be so kind as to change my diaper?” The demon cocked its head, studying her with a critical eye. “Better,” it conceded, “but not quite there yet. You need to sound more… pathetic. More desperate. More like the helpless creature you’ve become.” Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes, her voice thick with emotion as she spoke. “Master, I am nothing without you,” she choked out. “I beg of you, please grant me this small mercy. I am filthy and unworthy, but I plead for your kindness. Please change my diaper.” The demon’s smile returned, a predatory glint in its eyes. “That’s more like it,” it purred, snapping its fingers. A fresh diaper materialized in its hand, its design identical to the soiled one. “I like it when the new ones beg for diapers. Now, be a good girl and lie still.” Olivia obeyed, her body trembling as the demon slowly and deliberately changed her diaper, its touch lingeringly cold and impersonal. “Could have just clicked my fingers,” it purred, its voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “But where’s the fun in that? A snap of my fingers, and poof! No mess, no fuss. But where’s the entertainment in that? Seeing you squirm, begging for my help… now that’s truly delightful.” The demon chuckled, a sound like nails scraping down a chalkboard, and held the soiled diaper up, the stench assaulting Olivia’s nose with renewed intensity. A cruel grin spread across the demon’s face. “Well, well, well, look at the state of you. Seems like you made quite a mess last night, didn’t you, little one? Perhaps you underestimated your ability to hold it. Or maybe you reveled in the mess a little too much, making a game of it all. You naughty little girl.” Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to spill over. The demon’s words were like acid, burning away her last shreds of dignity. The demon cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. With practiced ease, it used a wet wipe to clean her princess parts and her bum, its touch rough and impersonal. “Hold still,” it commanded, its voice devoid of any warmth. Once Olivia was clean, the demon barked, “Legs up!” and waited impatiently for her to comply. With trembling hands, Olivia lifted her legs, offering a brief glimpse of her exposed bum. The demon wasted no time, swiftly sliding the fresh diaper underneath her. It then sprinkled a layer of baby powder over her princess parts and bum, the cool powder a stark contrast to the burning shame radiating from her core. Finally, with a flourish, the demon lifted the front over crotch and snapped the diaper tapes into place, securing it snugly around her waist. “There you go, all clean and… well, relatively fresh,” it sneered, sniffing the old soiled diaper in the air with exaggerated disgust. “But remember, Olivia,” it added, its voice dripping with false sympathy, “accidents happen to the best of us, especially when they’re wearing diapers like a little baby. And when those accidents happen, you’ll know exactly how to beg for my… assistance.” The demon’s grin widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. As it leaned in close, its breath reeking of sulfur, it whispered, “And make sure you beg well, because the consequences for disobedience are… unpleasant, to say the least.” With a final, lingering stroke of her cheek, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia alone with the lingering stench of shame from her soiled diaper next to her and the chilling realization that this was only the beginning of her torment. Chapter 7: The Demon’s Assistant Despite the lingering trauma of the demon’s touch, Olivia found herself oddly relieved to be in a fresh diaper. The clean, dry sensation against her skin was a stark contrast to the soiled diaper that now lay discarded on the floor, a tangible reminder of her humiliation. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, the emotional turmoil of the past hours taking its toll. She crawled back under her covers, the fresh diaper a small comfort amidst the chaos. Sleep came easier this time, her dreams less haunted by the demon’s menacing presence. As the morning sun streamed through her window, Olivia woke with a renewed sense of determination. She wouldn’t let the demon control her life. She would find a way to break free from this twisted game, to reclaim her dignity and independence. A loud knocking at the door startled her, interrupting her thoughts. Could it be the demon again, so soon? She cautiously approached the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Olivia cautiously cracked open the front door, shielding her diaper-clad body from view. “Package for Olivia Parker?” a cheerful voice chirped. “Yes, thank you,” Olivia mumbled, snatching the box and swiftly closing the door. A wave of relief washed over her. Just some LED lights she’d ordered before her disastrous trip. A perfect distraction from her current predicament. Parcel tucked under her arm, she turned towards the stairs, only to be halted by another insistent knock. With a frustrated sigh, she set the box down and yanked open the door. “Lucille,” a woman declared, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, “the Demon’s assistant. I’ll be coming in now.” Before Olivia could protest, the woman swept past her, her movements a whirlwind of chiffon and perfume. “Excuse me!” Olivia sputtered, indignation rising in her throat. But her protest was cut short as the woman—Lucille—snapped her fingers. In a flash, a bright pink pacifier appeared in Olivia’s mouth, silencing her. She gagged, her fingers clawing at the plastic, but to no avail. The more she struggled, the tighter her mouth clamped around the pacifier, her own body betraying her. Humiliation flooded her as she realized she was now not only trapped in a diaper but also reduced to an infantile state with the pacifier. Lucille surveyed Olivia with a critical eye, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Well, well, well,” she drawled, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. “Looks like someone’s been a naughty girl. Didn’t your master teach you any manners?” Olivia glared at her through the pacifier, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She tried to speak, but the pacifier rendered her words into muffled, infantile gurgles. Lucille chuckled, a sound like wind chimes laced with venom. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head with a manicured hand. “I’m here to help you adjust to your new… lifestyle. The Demon has big plans for you, and I’m here to ensure you’re properly prepared.” She snapped her fingers again, and a mountain of baby supplies materialized in the middle of the living room: stacks of diapers, bottles filled with a milky liquid, jars of pureed food, and an assortment of pastel-colored toys. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as Lucille began unpacking the items, her movements efficient and practiced. “Now, now, don’t look so glum,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “This is just the beginning. You’re going to have so much fun with all these new toys, aren’t you, sweetie?” She picked up a rattle shaped like a volcano, shaking it enticingly in front of Olivia’s face. Olivia recoiled, her disgust evident even through the pacifier. This was a nightmare, a grotesque mockery of her life. But as Lucille continued to unpack the supplies, a chilling realization dawned on her. This wasn’t a temporary punishment; this was the demon’s vision for her future. A future filled with diapers, baby formula, baby food, and the constant presence of Lucille. Lucille perched herself on the arm of the sofa, her gaze fixed on Olivia like a scientist observing a lab specimen. “Now, Olivia, darling,” she began, her voice a sickeningly sweet melody, “let’s talk about our new arrangement.” Olivia, still struggling fruitlessly against the pacifier, let out a muffled growl of frustration. “Oh, hush now, there’s no need for that,” Lucille chided, her tone saccharine but her eyes cold. “I’m here to help you, after all.” She leaned forward, her words dripping with condescension. “From now on, I’ll be your… caregiver, shall we say? I’ll be in charge of all your needs – feeding, changing, playtime, even bath time.” A sly smile curled on her lips. “And of course, discipline when necessary. Maybe even rewards! However, the Demon expects complete obedience, you understand?” Olivia’s eyes widened in horror. This was worse than she could have imagined. Lucille, with her patronizing tone and condescending touch, was to be her constant companion, her jailer in this infantile prison. “Don’t worry, darling,” Lucille cooed, misinterpreting Olivia’s silence. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love your new life, with all its simple pleasures and childish delights.” She picked up a teddy bear from the pile of baby supplies, its beady eyes seeming to mock Olivia’s despair. Olivia shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. This was not her life, not who she was. She was a scientist, a volcanologist, a woman with a career and a future. But the pacifier in her mouth prevented any protest, any plea for reason. All she could do was watch helplessly as Lucille laid out the grim reality of her new, demeaning existence. Lucille reached out a manicured hand, her fingers pinching the pacifier between Olivia’s lips. With a swift tug, she removed it, a triumphant smirk on her face. “There now,” she purred. “Don’t you feel better already?” Olivia gasped, her lungs filling with air from her mouth for the first time in what felt like hours. “You can’t do this!” she cried, her voice hoarse with emotion. “This is wrong! It’s insane!” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Insane? Perhaps. But it’s also the Demon’s will, and as his humble servant, I’m merely following orders. Besides,” she added, her voice dripping with condescension, “you seem to be adjusting quite well already. Look at you, in your pretty little diaper, sucking on your pacifier like a good girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but anger fuelled her defiance. “I’m not a baby! I’m a grown woman, a scientist! This is degrading and humiliating!” Lucille shrugged, her expression nonchalant. “Oh, darling, we all have our roles to play in this grand cosmic drama. Yours just happens to be a bit more… infantile. But don’t worry, you’ll soon learn to embrace your new identity. And who knows,” she added with a wink, “you might even find that you enjoy it.” Olivia’s stomach churned with disgust. The thought of finding any pleasure in this twisted situation was abhorrent. But as she met Lucille’s gaze, a cold fear settled in her heart. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that this was just the beginning of her ordeal. The demon and its assistant had a plan for her, and she knew now that she was powerless to stop them. A sudden warmth spread through Olivia’s diaper, the familiar sensation of wetness bringing a fresh wave of humiliation. She looked up at Lucille, who wore a triumphant smirk, confirming Olivia’s worst fears. “See?” Lucille purred, her voice a chilling melody. “You can’t control it anymore, darling. One minute you’ll be playing with your toys, the next… whoops! A little accident. Such a shame for a grown woman, wouldn’t you agree?” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “But don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll get used to the constant wetness, the never-ending cycle of shame and dependency. Welcome to your new life, Olivia. It’s going to be a messy one, now that’s for sure.” The demon chuckles at her humiliation. Chapter 8: Who’s Humiliation? Yourmiliation. Olivia’s cheeks burned as the warmth spread through her diaper, a mixture of shame and anger coursing through her veins. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the pacifier quickly appeared in her mouth stifling any protest. Her eyes, filled with a mix of defiance and despair, locked onto Lucille’s mocking gaze. Lucille, sensing Olivia’s inner turmoil, continued her cruel taunts. “Oh, don’t be so glum, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head condescendingly. “It’s only pee, after all. It’s a natural bodily function, even for big girls like you. But now, you’ll have to rely on me, your ever-so-capable assistant, to clean up your little messes. How thrilling!” A wicked gleam entered Lucille’s eyes as she reached for a diaper bag overflowing with supplies. “Don’t worry, though,” she chirped, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “I’ve brought everything we need to keep you nice and dry. After all, we wouldn’t want your pretty little bottom getting sore, would we?” She paused, a sly smile spreading across her face. “But first, let’s see how well you can crawl. Maybe a little spanking will motivate you? A nice, firm reminder of the consequences for disobeying your new caretaker.” She tauntingly said as a menacing paddle appeared in her hand. The thought of being spanked like a child sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. She had always been fiercely independent, a woman who commanded respect in her field. Now, reduced to a crawling infant, she was at the mercy of this sadistic caretaker. With a heavy heart, she obeyed, lowering herself onto her hands and knees. The crinkling of the wet diaper against her skin was a constant reminder of her humiliation. “That’s a good girl,” Lucille praised, her voice laced with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Now crawl, Olivia. Show me how eager you are to please.” The assistant pointed towards a pile of diapers at the other end of the room, a wicked glint in her eye. Olivia, fuelled by a mix of shame and defiance, began to crawl, pacifier in mouth. Each movement rocked her wet diaper back and fourth against her princess parts, she felt herself getting hot and bothered. She wanted to reach inside of her diaper and touch herself, but she shook her head and gritted her teeth, focusing on the pile of diapers, a beacon of hope in this degrading ordeal. With each agonizing inch, she prayed for the strength to endure this humiliation, clinging to the belief that she would find a way to break free from this twisted game before she actually started to enjoy it. Lucille watched Olivia’s progress with a predatory grin. “Not bad, darling,” she purred. “But you could be faster. Remember, the quicker you get there, the quicker you’ll be out of that soggy mess.” Olivia’s muscles burned with exertion, but she pushed herself onward. The diaper, heavy with urine, rubbed against her sensitive skin, a constant reminder of her helplessness. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against the edge of a diaper package, a spark of hope igniting within her. But just as she was about to grasp it, Lucille’s foot came down on top of the package, pinning it to the floor. Olivia looked up, her eyes pleading for mercy, but Lucille only laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the room. “Not so fast, little one,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You haven’t earned your reward yet. A few more laps should do the trick.” She felt her heart flutter as well as her princess parts as she turned around. Olivia whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. She was exhausted, humiliated, and desperate for relief from the sodden diaper clinging to her skin. The smell of urine was overwhelming, filling her nostrils with each ragged breath. Lucille, however, seemed to revel in Olivia’s discomfort. “Aww, is the little baby feeling icky?” she cooed, her voice a sickening blend of mockery and amusement. “Did the naughty girl have an accident? Don’t worry, darling, a few more laps and you’ll be rewarded with a nice, fresh diaper. Or maybe you enjoy the feeling of that warm wetness against your skin?” Olivia’s face burned with shame and curiosity. Did Lucille know she was getting turned on? But she refused to give Lucille the satisfaction of seeing her cry. With a defiant snarl, she resumed her crawl, the soggy diaper squishing and rubbing against her parts more and more with every movement. Olivia let out a little moan as she crawled. As Olivia continued her humiliating crawl, a strange sensation began to emerge from the discomfort. The constant friction of the diaper against her sensitive skin, initially a source of irritation, was now sparking a warmth that spread through her lower body. Each movement, each shift of her hips, ignited a flicker of pleasure she hadn’t anticipated. A wave of confusion washed over her. She was disgusted by the situation, mortified by her own incontinence, yet her body was betraying her, responding to the forbidden stimulation with a growing warmth. She tried to suppress the feeling, to focus on the anger and humiliation, but the pleasure was insistent, a siren song luring her towards a dangerous precipice. Lucille, ever observant, noticed the subtle change in Olivia’s demeanor. A knowing smirk spread across her face. “Oh, I see,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone’s starting to enjoy herself. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little one.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace the sensation, darling. It’s only going to get better from here. Crawl faster!” The demon’s assistant clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the silent house. “Well, well, well,” she chirped, her voice dripping with feigned delight. “Looks like someone’s finally getting the hang of this. But we can’t have you dilly-dallying now, can we, darling? Pick up the pace! Your reward awaits, but only for those who earn it.” Olivia, caught between mortification and a growing sense of arousal, obeyed. She quickened her pace, her hands and knees hitting the floor with rhythmic thuds. The diaper, now saturated, clung to her like a second skin, the friction against her most intimate areas intensifying with each movement. She gritted her teeth, a low moan escaping her lips as the pleasure became almost unbearable. Lucille’s laughter filled the room, a cruel melody that fueled Olivia’s growing shame. “That’s it, darling,” she encouraged, her voice laced with a sadistic glee. “Crawl for me. Crawl like the good little baby you are. The faster you go, the sooner you’ll be rewarded. But remember,” she added with a menacing edge, “if you stop, the punishment will be severe.” Driven by a potent cocktail of humiliation, desperation, and a dark, forbidden pleasure, Olivia surged forward, her limbs moving faster than she thought possible. The room blurred around her, the only focus the pile of diapers looming closer with each frantic crawl. A tingling sensation built within her, a familiar pressure that she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, she reached the pile, collapsing onto the soft, absorbent mound. The dam finally broke, and a torrent of warm liquid flooded her diaper, she sucked on her pacifier harder as she squirted into the pee-soaked diaper closing her eyes with pleasure. A shudder wracked her body, a mix of shame and undeniable relief. She had lost control, given in to the demon’s twisted game, yet a part of her revelled in the orgasm she just had in her pissy diaper. Lucille clapped her hands, her laughter echoing through the room. “Bravo, Olivia!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such a good girl. Now, wasn’t that so much better than holding it in?” She leaned down, her face inches from Olivia’s, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “But remember, darling, this is just the beginning. There are so many more ways for you to please me. So many more messes for you to make.” Lucille pressed her hand against Olivia’s diaper, rubbing it firmly through the wet fabric. “And we’ll have a lot of fun cleaning them up together. Won’t we, little one?” Lucille, sensing Olivia’s heightened vulnerability, plucked the pacifier from her mouth with a triumphant flourish. “Well, well, well,” she cooed, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Someone seems to be enjoying her new reality. Tell me, Olivia, are you ready to be a good little girl and obey my every command?” Olivia, still flushed with pleasure and shame, nodded eagerly, her voice a high-pitched squeak. “Yes, yes!” she chirped, her words barely coherent. “I’ll be good, I promise!” Lucille chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’m sure you will, darling,” she purred. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” With practiced efficiency, Lucille peeled away the soiled diaper, a wave of embarrassment washing over Olivia as the stench filled the air. The demon’s assistant tutted disapprovingly, her eyes narrowing in disgust. “Someone’s been a messy little girl,” she scolded, her voice laced with sarcasm. Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame. The brief moment of pleasure had evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of humiliation and self-loathing. Disgusting. How could she have let herself get to that point? The smell of her own waste filled her nostrils, a constant reminder of her degradation. She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of the overflowing diaper a horrifying tableau burned into her mind. Had she really just gotten off on crawling around like a baby, whimpering for a diaper change? Shame radiated from her core, a sickening heat that threatened to consume her whole. But beneath the shame, a flicker of something else remained – a morbid curiosity, a twisted echo of the pleasure she had experienced. It was a terrifying realization, a seed of darkness planted in her mind by Lucille’s cruel game. The touch of the wet wipes against her skin snapped Olivia out of her momentary haze. Reality crashed back in, a harsh wave of disgust and despair. She gritted her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. This wasn’t her, this wasn’t who she was. But as Lucille fastened a fresh diaper around her waist, the crinkling of the plastic a stark reminder of her new reality, Olivia knew she was trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight. Chapter 9: Playing With Teddy The clean diaper did nothing to alleviate Olivia’s despair. The crinkling plastic only amplified her humiliation, a constant reminder of her infantilized state. As Lucille stepped back to admire her handiwork, Olivia’s mind raced, searching for a way out of this twisted game. “There,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “All clean and dry, just like a little baby.” She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Olivia’s face. “But you don’t seem very happy about it, darling. Is something wrong?” Olivia glared at her, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She wanted to scream, to curse, to lash out, but the pacifier in her mouth stifled any sound. Her only response was a defiant shake of her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Lucille’s smile faltered, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Oh, come now, Olivia,” she chided, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Don’t be difficult. We have so much fun planned for you today.” She gestured towards a pile of colorful clothes on the bed, a collection of frilly dresses and oversized t-shirts adorned with cartoon characters. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as she recognized the outfits. They were the epitome of childishness, the kind of clothes she hadn’t worn since she was a toddler. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her as she realized what Lucille had in store. “Now, darling,” Lucille purred, picking up a particularly garish pink dress with a matching bonnet. “Let’s get you dressed for the day. It’s time for you to embrace your new role, Olivia. The role of a sweet, innocent little girl.” Olivia shook her head violently, the pacifier bobbing against her lips as she let out a muffled protest. She would not wear those ridiculous clothes. She would not be reduced to a caricature of childhood innocence. Lucille’s patience was wearing thin. “Olivia,” she warned, her voice laced with steel. “Don’t make this difficult. Put on the dress, or I’ll have to find other ways to persuade you.” Olivia’s defiance wavered. She knew Lucille was capable of cruelty, of finding new and inventive ways to humiliate her. But the thought of parading around in those childish clothes was almost too much to bear. “Fine,” she mumbled through the pacifier, her voice barely audible. “I’ll wear the dress.” A triumphant smile spread across Lucille’s face. “That’s a good girl,” she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. “Now, let’s get you dressed and ready for playtime.” Olivia stood there, her head bowed in shame as Lucille helped her into the frilly pink dress. The fabric felt cheap and scratchy against her skin, a stark contrast to the comfortable clothes she was used to wearing. The bonnet, with its ridiculous oversized bow, was the final indignity. She felt like a clown, a mockery of her former self. As Lucille led Olivia towards the playpen, the plastic structure loomed before her like a miniature prison. The brightly colored bars mocked her with their childish cheerfulness, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile feeling that emanated from the interior. Inside, a collection of baby toys lay scattered on the floor, their plastic forms gleaming in the harsh light. Olivia knew what awaited her: forced playtime, infantile games designed to further humiliate her and chip away at her remaining sense of self. The playpen wasn’t just a confinement; it was a symbol of her new reality, a place where her mind and body would be moulded into something unrecognizable. Before leaving Olivia to her fate, Lucille produced a baby bottle filled with a milky white liquid. “Here you go, darling,” she chirped, thrusting the bottle into Olivia’s hands. “A little snack to keep you fueled during playtime. Make sure you finish it before I get back, or there will be consequences.” Olivia eyed the bottle with disgust. The thought of drinking baby formula, of being treated like an infant, made her stomach churn. But the memory of Lucille’s earlier threats was still fresh in her mind. She knew better than to disobey. “And remember,” Lucille added with a sly smile, “milk always makes babies need a diaper change. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself feeling a little… wet… soon. It’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?” She winked, a gesture that sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. With a final, mocking pat on the head, Lucille left Olivia alone in the playpen, the bottle of formula a heavy weight in her trembling hand. Olivia stared at the milky liquid, her mind racing. She had to find a way out of this, a way to escape the demon’s clutches and reclaim her life. But for now, she had to play along, to survive this twisted game until she could find a way to fight back. With a deep breath, she raised the bottle to her lips, the taste of the formula a bitter reminder of her powerlessness. The formula, surprisingly, wasn’t as repulsive as Olivia had anticipated. It was sweet, cloying, and left a sticky residue on her lips. As she drained the last few drops, a warmth spread through her lower abdomen. It was the familiar, dreaded feeling, the precursor to another humiliating episode of incontinence. She tried to hold it back, to clench her muscles and resist the urge, but it was futile. A warm trickle escaped, followed by a steady stream. The diaper quickly became saturated, the heavy, wet sensation a stark reminder of her helplessness. Just as Olivia was sinking into despair, the door creaked open. Lucille swept into the room, her eyes scanning Olivia with predatory interest. “Well, well, well,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone couldn’t hold her tinkles. Did the yummy milk make the baby girl tinkle in her diaper? Tell me what you’ve done little girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, a tear tracing a hot path down her cheek. Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely audible over the crinkling of the soaked diaper against her skin. “Y-yes,” she stammered her helplessness a bitter pill to swallow. “I wet myself. Please, I need a change.” Lucille’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “Oh, sweetie,” she crooned, her voice dripping with false sympathy, “did you forget already? It’s playtime now. Big girls need to learn patience, you know?” She gestured towards the scattered toys in the playpen, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Now, be a good girl and play with your toys. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll consider changing you after.” Lucille collected her things from the room and went away again. Olivia’s heart sank. She knew there was no point in arguing. The discomfort of the wet diaper was unbearable, but the fear of further humiliation was even worse. With a defeated sigh, she reached for a brightly colored rattle, her mind racing as she tried to devise a plan. She couldn’t stay like this, trapped in this infantile nightmare. There had to be a way out. Olivia halfheartedly shook the rattle, the hollow sound a mocking echo of her own emptiness. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – anger, humiliation, and a deep-seated fear that this was her new reality. But beneath those emotions, a spark of defiance remained, a refusal to completely surrender to the demon’s twisted game. As she played, her eyes darted around the room, searching for any potential escape route. The windows were too high, the door locked from the outside. Her gaze fell upon the diaper bag Lucille had brought in earlier. Perhaps there was something in there, a tool, a weapon, anything that could help her break free. Mustering all her courage, Olivia crawled towards the bag, her movements cautious and deliberate. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric. A surge of hope coursed through her veins. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she could escape this nightmare. With trembling fingers, Olivia unzipped the diaper bag, her heart pounding in her chest. The contents were a grotesque parody of a baby’s essentials: talcum powder, a tube of diaper rash cream, a handful of pacifiers, and a stack of brightly colored diapers. Olivia’s stomach churned as she realized there was nothing useful in the bag, nothing that could aid her escape. A sob escaped her lips as she slumped back against the playpen wall, a wave of despair washing over her. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own home, reduced to a helpless infant. The demon had won, and her life as she knew it was over. As if sensing her defeat, Lucille’s voice echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of her presence. “Having fun, Olivia?” she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. “Don’t worry, darling. The beginning is starting now. You’ll soon learn to love your new life, with all its messy little pleasures.” Olivia’s body tensed, her stomach clenching in response to Lucille’s taunting words. The formula, now churning in her belly, triggered a familiar urge, a pressure building within her. She tried to fight it, to hold back, but the demon’s influence was too strong. A solid mass of warmth flooded her diaper, the sensation a mix of relief and utter shame. She had lost control again, her body betraying her in the most humiliating way possible. The smell of her poop filled the playpen, a pungent reminder of her degradation. Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes as she whimpered softly. She was no longer just wet; she was filthy, a helpless infant adult wallowing in her own excrement. This was the lowest point of her life, a nadir of shame and despair. She had become the very thing the demon wanted her to be: a helpless, infantile creature, utterly dependent on its cruel whims. Lucille’s laughter echoed through the room, a cruel melody that twisted Olivia’s insides. “Oh, Olivia,” she cooed, her voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet tone, “what a mess you’ve made. But don’t worry, darling. We’ll take care of it.” With a snap of her fingers, Lucille conjured a new toy, a large, plush teddy bear with soft brown fur and innocent button eyes. The bear was oddly oversized for the playpen, its limbs sprawling across the limited space. “Look, Olivia,” Lucille purred, “a new friend to keep you company. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun together.” Lucille says as she snaps her fingers again, this time filling Olivia up with libido. As she spoke, an unsettling warmth began to spread through Olivia’s body. The sensation was different from the shame and disgust she had felt earlier. It was a warmth that tingled and pulsed, a growing heat that seemed to originate from her princess parts. Her eyes darted to the teddy bear, a new and unfamiliar desire taking root in her mind. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, let out a low chuckle. “Yes, darling,” she whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Let your imagination run wild. Play with your new friend, and don’t be afraid to explore your desires. After all, a little mess is nothing to be ashamed of, is it?” Lucille bumps up Olivia’s libido with a click of her fingers. The shame that had consumed Olivia moments before began to morph into something else, a tingling curiosity that pulsed through her princess parts and body. Her eyes remained locked on the teddy bear, its soft fur and inviting curves a stark contrast to the cold, sterile plastic of the playpen. Lucille’s words echoed in her mind, a tempting invitation to explore a forbidden realm. “Don’t be afraid to explore your desires,” she had said. And in that moment, a wave of rebellion surged through Olivia. If this was the life she was forced to live, she would find a way to make it her own, to carve out a sliver of pleasure from the humiliation. With a newfound determination, Olivia crawled towards the teddy bear, her eyes never leaving its plush form. She reached out, her fingers sinking into the soft fur, a shiver running down her spine. The sensation was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold, clinical touch of Lucille’s hands. Emboldened by the rising warmth within her, Olivia pulled herself onto the teddy bear, straddling its plush body. The diaper, already heavy with her excrement, shifted against her sensitive parts, the friction igniting a spark of pleasure that sent a jolt through her body. She gasped, her fingers tightening in the bear’s fur as she rocked against it, the forbidden sensation growing with each movement. Olivia’s body writhed in pleasure as she grinded against the giant teddy bear, the contents of her messy diaper rubbing against her pussy with each movement. The wetness and warmth of the padding only heightened her arousal, her clit throbbing with need. Lucille watched with a smirk on her face, enjoying the humiliation of the adult woman humping a stuffed animal in a wet and messy diaper and recorded her. “Well, well, well,” she taunted, “looks like someone’s enjoying their messy diaper a little too much.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny the pleasure coursing through her body. She pushed harder against the teddy, her orgasm building with each rub of the poopy wet diaper against her princess parts. Lucille leaned in, a playful smirk twisting her lips, “Someone’s already making quite the mess, aren’t they? And it’s about to get a different type of messy, isn’t it, wittle Olivia?” Her eyes sparkled with malicious delight, a hint of purring entering her tone. Olivia couldn’t hold back any longer, her climax hitting her like a wave. She cried out, her pussy pulsing with pleasure as she came into the wet and messy diaper. She continued grinding and grinding, its foul contents spreading further, while she had orgasm after orgasm until she lay against the teddy bear exhausted, but in ecstasy with a very messy diapered bottom. Lucille’s voicedripped with saccharine sweetness, a stark contrast to the cruel glint in her eyes. “Oh, Olivia, what a good girl you are!” she cooed, clapping her hands together in mock delight. “Look at the lovely present you left in your diaper. Such a big, smelly surprise and a sticky one too!” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?” she whispered, her voice laced with a perverse kind of satisfaction. “Such a dirty little baby, making a sticky mess like that. Mommy’s so pleased.” Olivia, already burdened with humiliation, felt a fresh wave of shame wash over her at Lucille’s twisted praise. Tears welled up in her eyes anew, not from the discomfort of the soiled diaper, but from the crushing weight of degradation. She had never felt so small, so utterly debased. “Please,” Olivia choked out, her voice barely a whisper, “just… just clean me up.” The words tasted like poison on her tongue, each syllable a surrender to the demon’s cruel game. Lucille’s smile widened, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “As you wish, my sticky little mess maker,” she purred, her voice laced with malicious glee. With deliberate slowness, she began to clean Olivia, her every touch a reminder of the scientist’s helplessness. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of her situation. But even with her eyes closed, she could still feel Lucille’s cold, mocking gaze upon her. The cleaning process was agonizingly slow, Lucille taking every opportunity to prolong Olivia’s torment. She cooed and praised Olivia’s “good behaviour,” her voice a grating symphony of condescension. Olivia, exhausted from humping her teddy, fell asleep during her diaper change. Chapter 10: Life Could Be A Dream (Finale) When Olivia awoke, she found herself not in her bed, but in a crib, its bars cold and unyielding against her touch. Panic flared as she realized she was locked in, the familiar surroundings of her bedroom warped and distorted by the dim light filtering through the slats. A desperate urge to pee gnawed at her, the sensation growing stronger with each passing moment. Olivia squirmed, her diaper rustling with her movements, but there was no escape. Tears welled up in her eyes as she succumbed to the inevitable, the warmth spreading through her diaper a humiliating reminder of her helplessness. The door creaked open, and Lucille entered, her silhouette framed by the dim light. Her eyes gleamed as she took in the sight of Olivia, trapped and soiled in the crib. “Ah, my little baby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Did you have an accident? Such a shame. But don’t worry, Mommy’s here to take care of you.” Olivia clenched her fists, her cheeks burning with shame and anger. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of defiance and desperation. Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “Not yet, my dear,” she purred. “First, we need to have a little chat.” She walked over to the crib, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back, her body pressed against the cold bars. Lucille leaned over the crib, her face mere inches from Olivia’s. “You see, Olivia,” she said, her voice soft and insidious, “this is your true nature. Helpless, dependent, in need of a mommy to change your dirty diaper.” Olivia’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a baby!” she hissed. “I’m a grown woman, a scientist!” Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “That’s what you think, my dear. But deep down, you crave this. You crave the comfort of a diaper, the security of being taken care of, the thrill of submission.” Olivia wanted to scream, to deny everything Lucille was saying, but the words died in her throat. A part of her, a small, insidious part, whispered in agreement. Lucille reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s diaper. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she purred. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” A strange sensation washed over Olivia, a mixture of shame, excitement, and surrender. She closed her eyes, her body trembling as Lucille unlatched the crib and lifted her out. “That’s it, my little baby,” Lucille crooned, her voice a hypnotic lullaby. “Let Mommy take care of you.” She carried Olivia to the desk, where the strange contraption hummed with an unsettling energy. Lucille placed a helmet on Olivia’s head, its cold metal pressing against her temples. “Now, my dear,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation. “Let’s explore your deepest desires together.” The world around Olivia dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, her consciousness slipping away into the realm of dreams. The chill of the helmet pressed against Olivia’s skin, plunging her into the swirling chaos of the dream realm. She found herself in a dimly lit classroom, the air thick with the scent of chalk and old books. Rows of wooden desks faced a blackboard covered in complex equations and diagrams. Olivia was seated at one of the desks, her legs dangling above the floor. She was wearing a school uniform, a pleated skirt and a white blouse, but the most noticeable feature was the thick diaper peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. A figure stood at the front of the classroom, a stern-looking woman with wire-rimmed glasses and a tight bun. It was Professor Lucille, her voice booming across the room as she lectured on the intricacies of quantum mechanics. “Now, Miss Olivia,” she said, her gaze fixing on Olivia with a disapproving frown. “Can you explain to the class the principles of quantum entanglement?” Olivia squirmed in her seat, her face flushed with embarrassment. She had no idea what quantum entanglement was, and the diaper bulging between her legs made it difficult to concentrate. “I… I don’t know, Professor,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. Professor Lucille sighed, a sound of exasperation mixed with a hint of amusement. “Of course you don’t, you silly girl,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve been too busy playing with your dollies and wetting your diaper.” A wave of shame washed over Olivia. She knew Professor Lucille was right; she had been neglecting her studies, her mind preoccupied with childish fantasies and the comfort of a full diaper. “But don’t worry, Olivia,” Professor Lucille continued, her voice taking on a seductive purr. “I’m here to help you. I’m here to teach you all about the wonders of science… and the joys of diaper submission.” She walked towards Olivia, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. Professor Lucille stopped beside Olivia’s desk, her hand reaching out to gently stroke Olivia’s hair. “You’re such a bright girl, Olivia,” she whispered. “But you need discipline. You need guidance. You need… a firm hand.” Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine, a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew what was coming, and a part of her, a dark, forbidden part, craved it. Professor Lucille stepped back, her gaze intense and unwavering. “Stand up, Olivia,” she commanded. Trembling, Olivia pushed herself up from her chair, her legs shaking beneath her. She was fully aware of the obscene sight she must have presented, her diaper sagging heavily between her legs, a wet patch spreading across the front. “Bend over your desk,” Professor Lucille instructed. Olivia did as she was told, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden desk as she leaned forward, her bottom thrust out. She could feel the cold air on her diaper, the material still damp from her earlier accidents. Professor Lucille moved behind her, her steps measured and deliberate. Olivia closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable. The first slap came down hard, the impact echoing through the classroom. Olivia gasped, her body jolting forward. The sharp pain radiated through her, a stark contrast to the comforting warmth of her diaper. Another slap followed, and another. Each one stung, the pain building with every strike. Olivia couldn’t help but moan, her body writhing beneath the assault. “Is this what you need, Olivia?” Professor Lucille asked, her voice thick with desire. “Discipline? Control?” “Yessss,” Olivia whimpered, the word barely audible. She was beyond shame now, beyond embarrassment. She was lost in the sensations, her body betraying her with each whimper and moan. Professor Lucille continued the spanking, each slap harder and more intense than the last. Olivia could feel her diaper growing even wetter, the heat from her punishment mixing with the warmth of her excretions and the heat from how horny she was getting. Eventually, Professor Lucille stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Olivia’s bottom and princess parts were a throbbing mess, her body aching with the abuse. “Very good, Olivia,” Professor Lucille said, her voice soft and comforting. “You have learned your lesson.” Olivia stayed bent over the desk, too exhausted to move. She could feel the trickle of wetness trailing down her legs, her diaper now thoroughly soaked and leaking. In that moment, she belonged to Professor Lucille. She was her student, her submissive, her plaything. She had surrendered herself completely, her body and her mind. And she had never felt so alive. Suddenly, the classroom vanished, the scent of chalk and the echoing lecture fading into oblivion. Olivia gasped, her eyes flying open as the helmet was removed from her head. The dream’s lingering warmth clung to her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of her bedroom. Lucille loomed over her, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Well, my dear,” she purred, “it seems you’ve discovered a hidden talent for academic submission.” Olivia recoiled, a wave of revulsion washing over her. The memory of her dream-self, the meek student eager for punishment, filled her with shame and disgust. “No,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “That’s not me. That’s not who I am.” Lucille chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension. “Don’t be so naive, Olivia,” she chided. “That is who you are, deep down. You crave authority, discipline, the thrill of surrendering to a dominant figure.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You’re wrong,” she insisted. “This is just a dream, a twisted fantasy you’ve implanted in my mind.” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh, is it?” she challenged. “Then why is your heart racing? Why are your cheeks flushed? Why can’t you deny the undeniable pleasure you felt in that classroom?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. The lingering warmth of the dream, the memory of Professor Lucille’s firm hand, the thrill of submission… it was all too real, too intoxicating. “This isn’t me,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. But even as she said the words, a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. Lucille leaned closer, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she whispered. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” The helmet descended once more, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Lucille’s touch. Olivia braced herself, unsure of what awaited her in the depths of her subconscious this time. The world dissolved into a dizzying vortex of colors and shapes, before solidifying into a starkly different scene. She found herself in a grand ballroom, chandeliers glittering overhead, the air filled with the strains of a waltz. But Olivia was not a guest at this elegant affair. She was dressed as a maid, her uniform crisp and starched, a frilly apron tied around her waist. A diaper peeked out from beneath her skirt, a stark reminder of her subservient role. Across the room, a figure stood out from the swirling crowd of dancers. It was Lady Lucille, resplendent in a flowing gown, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Olivia navigate the crowded room, a tray of champagne flutes balanced precariously in her hands. Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stumbled, her diaper rustling with her every movement. The guests snickered and whispered as she made her way towards Lady Lucille, her heart pounding in her chest. “Ah, there you are, my little maid,” Lady Lucille purred, her voice a seductive melody. “I see you’re having a bit of trouble with your duties.” Olivia lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I apologize, my lady,” she stammered. “I’ll be more careful next time.” Lady Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “No need to apologize, my dear,” she said, her voice softening. “Accidents happen, especially to clumsy little maids who can’t seem to keep their diapers dry.” Olivia’s face flushed crimson. She could feel the warmth spreading through her diaper, a humiliating reminder of her inadequacy. Lady Lucille reached out, her fingers gently lifting Olivia’s chin. “But don’t worry, my dear,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have a special task for you, a task that will require all of your… unique talents.” Lady Lucille led Olivia through the throng of dancers, her grip firm on Olivia’s arm. They reached a secluded alcove, hidden from the prying eyes of the guests. The air here was thick with the scent of perfume and something else, something primal and intoxicating. “You see, Olivia,” Lady Lucille began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I have a… particular interest in those who find pleasure in serving others. Those who revel in their own submission, who find joy in fulfilling their master’s every whim.” Olivia’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew where this was going, and a part of her, a part she had desperately tried to suppress, thrilled at the prospect. Lady Lucille’s hand trailed down Olivia’s arm, her fingers lingering on the curve of her hip. “I’ve heard whispers,” she continued, her voice a seductive purr, “of a brilliant scientist who has a secret, a hidden desire for something… more.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but she couldn’t deny the truth in Lady Lucille’s words. The dreams, the fantasies, the forbidden desires… they were all bubbling to the surface, threatening to consume her. “Don’t be afraid, Olivia,” Lady Lucille whispered, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace your desires. Embrace your submission. Embrace your diaper.” Her hand slipped under Olivia’s skirt, her fingers brushing against the damp warmth of the diaper. Olivia gasped, her body tensing, but a wave of pleasure washed over her, erasing all thoughts of resistance. Lady Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “There you are, my little pet,” she purred. “Let me show you how truly wonderful it can be to serve.” Lady Lucille’s fingers trailed along the wet fabric of the diaper, making Olivia shiver with desire. She could feel her heart racing, her breathing shallow and ragged as the older woman continued to touch her. “You like that, don’t you?” Lady Lucille murmured in her ear, her breath hot and heavy. “Feeling my fingers on your wet diaper?” Olivia could only nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. She had never felt anything like this before – the combination of shame, excitement, and arousal was intoxicating. Lady Lucille’s other hand reached up to caress Olivia’s breast, her thumb circling the nipple through the fabric of her dress. “Such a good girl,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “So eager to please, so willing to submit.” Olivia felt herself sinking deeper into the pleasure, her mind clouded with thoughts of servitude and desire. She wanted nothing more than to please Lady Lucille, to do whatever she asked of her. “Take off your panties,” Lady Lucille commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. “Let me see your diaper.” Olivia’s hands trembled as she obeyed, sliding her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. She stood there, exposed and vulnerable, her diaper on display for Lady Lucille to see. “Such a good girl,” Lady Lucille murmured again, her hand reaching down to stroke the wet fabric of the diaper. “So obedient, so eager to please.” Olivia felt herself melting under the older woman’s touch, her body trembling with pleasure. She had never felt anything like this before, never experienced such intense arousal and submission. “Now, go back to the party,” Lady Lucille said, her voice still firm but with a hint of amusement. “But remember, you belong to me now. You are my pet, my submissive, my little girl in diapers.” Olivia nodded, her mind still reeling with pleasure and desire. She turned and walked back to the party, her diaper wet and heavy between her legs, her mind focused on Lady Lucille and the new world of pleasure she had opened up for her. The opulent ballroom dissolved into a hazy blur, replaced by the stark familiarity of Olivia’s bedroom. The helmet was gone, the echo of Lady Lucille’s seductive voice fading into a distant memory. Olivia blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The sensation of the wet diaper between her legs remained, a tangible reminder of the dream’s intense reality. A wave of shame washed over her, followed by a pang of longing. She touched her cheeks, still flushed from the dream’s passionate encounter, and the denial rose within her. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head fiercely. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Yet, the memory of Lady Lucille’s touch, her whispered promises of pleasure and submission, lingered in Olivia’s mind like a tempting siren song. The logical part of her, the scientist, rebelled against these newfound desires. But another part, a darker, more primal aspect, yearned to succumb to the forbidden thrill. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “Still clinging to your illusions, my dear?” she asked, her voice a silky thread weaving through the silence. “Denial is a powerful tool, but it won’t shield you from the truth forever.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “This is wrong,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re manipulating me, twisting my mind.” Lucille tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Am I, Olivia?” she countered. “Or am I simply revealing what’s been hidden within you all along?” Olivia’s resolve wavered, her mind caught in a tug-of-war between reason and desire. She longed to believe that this was all a twisted game, a cruel trick played by a manipulative demon. But deep down, a gnawing doubt gnawed at her. “You’re lying,” she insisted, her voice a desperate plea for reassurance. “This isn’t who I am.” Lucille’s smile widened, her eyes glittering with triumph. “We’ll see about that, my dear,” she purred. “The night is young, and we have so much more to explore.” The helmet’s familiar weight settled upon Olivia’s head, and the world around her dissolved once more. This time, she found herself in a brightly lit playroom, filled with toys and colorful decorations. But the atmosphere was far from cheerful. Olivia was seated in a high chair, a bib tied around her neck, a half-eaten bowl of mush in front of her. She wore a baby blue onesie, and a thick diaper bulged between her legs. A stern-faced woman in a nanny uniform stood before her, a spoonful of mush hovering in the air. “Eat up, Olivia,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. “Big girls need to finish their dinner if they want to grow up strong and healthy.” Olivia scowled, pushing the spoon away with a petulant whine. “I don’t wanna,” she mumbled, her voice thick with defiance. Nanny Lucille’s smile tightened. “Oh, but you will,” she insisted, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “You’re a naughty little girl who needs to learn some manners. And I know just the way to teach you.” She set the spoon aside and reached for a wooden paddle hanging on the wall. Olivia’s eyes widened in alarm as Nanny Lucille approached, the paddle held menacingly in her hand. “This will teach you a lesson, young lady,” Nanny Lucille declared, her voice dripping with mock disapproval. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before disobeying your nanny.” The paddle connected with Olivia’s bottom, a sharp sting that sent a shockwave through her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, but a strange heat bloomed in her core, a mixture of pain, humiliation, and a forbidden thrill. Nanny Lucille continued her discipline, each strike of the paddle igniting a conflicting symphony of sensations within Olivia. She whimpered and cried, yet a part of her reveled in the punishment, her body responding with a growing warmth and a tingling arousal. “There, there,” Nanny Lucille cooed, her voice a soothing balm as she set the paddle aside. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, are you going to be a good girl and finish your dinner?” Olivia nodded meekly, her cheeks flushed with shame and a strange excitement. She opened her mouth as Nanny Lucille scooped up another spoonful of mush, a flicker of defiance still burning in her eyes, yet her body already yielding to the intoxicating power of submission. The playroom scene dissolved, leaving Olivia blinking in the dim light of her bedroom once more. The helmet was gone, the echo of Nanny Lucille’s stern voice and the sting of the paddle fading into a disturbing memory. She was still in her onesie, the diaper heavy and warm between her legs. The lingering sensation of the spanking, a mix of humiliation and a strange warmth, sent a shiver down her spine. “Well?” Lucille’s voice cut through the silence, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Did you enjoy your little lesson, my dear?” Olivia recoiled, her cheeks burning with shame and confusion. “No,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. “Oh, but it is, my dear,” she purred. “These are your dreams, Olivia. Your desires. Your fantasies.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with disbelief. “No,” she insisted. “This is just some twisted trick you’re playing on me. I’m not like this.” Lucille leaned closer, her eyes boring into Olivia’s. “Are you so sure?” she challenged. “Why else would you dream of such things? Why else would your body respond with such… enthusiasm?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. She couldn’t deny the strange pleasure she had experienced in the dream, the conflicting emotions that had stirred within her. Could Lucille be right? Were these truly her hidden desires, her deepest fantasies? “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. Embrace your little girl side.” Olivia opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. A part of her, a small, vulnerable part, yearned to believe Lucille. Yearned to surrender to the comfort and security of being a helpless little girl in a diaper. But another part of her, the scientist, the rational thinker, screamed in defiance. This couldn’t be her. This couldn’t be what she wanted. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “The choice is yours, my dear,” she purred. “You can continue to deny your true desires, or you can embrace them. The decision is yours.” The helmet’s familiar chill once again enveloped Olivia’s head, and her surroundings dissolved into a swirling vortex. This time, she found herself standing on a sun-drenched beach, the warm sand between her toes, the salty breeze tousling her hair. But something was different. Olivia was clad in a bright pink bikini, her body tanned and toned. Yet, beneath the skimpy fabric, a thick diaper bulged prominently, its outline unmistakable. A giggle escaped her lips as she ran towards the sparkling waves, the diaper crinkling with every step. A group of friends waved to her from the shore, their laughter echoing across the beach. Olivia plunged into the water, relishing the cool embrace of the ocean. But as she swam, a strange sensation spread through her diaper – a warmth, a wetness, a sense of fullness. Emerging from the waves, Olivia felt a pang of excitement mixed with a hint of embarrassment. She knew her diaper was soaked, but instead of shame, a thrill coursed through her veins. She waddled back to her friends, the diaper sagging heavily between her legs. To her surprise, her friends didn’t mock or tease her. Instead, they showered her with compliments, their eyes filled with admiration. “You look so cute in that diaper, Olivia!” one of them exclaimed. “It’s like you’re a little baby again.” Olivia giggled, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. The feeling of the wet diaper against her skin, the attention from her friends, the undeniable thrill of being babied – it was all so intoxicating. She spent the rest of the day playing in the sand, building sandcastles and splashing in the waves, her diaper growing heavier and messier with each passing hour. But the discomfort was outweighed by the sheer joy of embracing her newfound freedom, of reveling in the childish abandon that the diaper represented. As the sun began to set, Olivia’s friends gathered around her, their faces glowing with warmth and acceptance. “We love you, Olivia,” they chorused, their voices filled with genuine affection. “And we love your diapers.” Olivia beamed, her heart swelling with happiness. This was it, she realized. This was what she truly wanted. The freedom to embrace her childish side, to revel in the comfort and security of a diaper, to be loved and accepted for who she was, messy diaper and all. As the beach scene began to fade, a realization dawned upon Olivia. This wasn’t just a dream; it was a reflection of her deepest desires, her hidden yearnings. The joy she had felt, the acceptance, the pure, unadulterated pleasure of embracing her childish side – it was all real, all hers. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, paused mid-motion, the helmet hovering inches above her head. “What is it, my dear?” she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Olivia’s eyes snapped open, her gaze meeting Lucille’s with newfound clarity. The shame, the denial, the confusion – it all melted away, replaced by a sense of liberation. “I see it now,” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I see what you’ve been trying to show me all along.” A slow smile spread across Lucille’s face, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Do you, my dear?” she purred. “And what is it that you see?” Olivia took a deep breath, the words pouring out of her like a dam bursting. “I see that I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m not just a scientist, a rational thinker. I’m also a little girl, a playful, curious, sometimes messy little girl who loves her diapers.” Lucille nodded, her smile widening. “Yes, my dear,” she affirmed. “That’s exactly who you are.” Olivia continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I see that I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can embrace my desires, my fantasies, my love for diapers.” Lucille lowered the helmet, her touch gentle as she removed it from Olivia’s head. “You are free, Olivia,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. “Free to be yourself. Free to be the little girl you’ve always been.” Olivia smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up her face. She looked down at her diaper, no longer a source of shame, but a symbol of her newfound freedom. “Thank you, Lucille,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you for showing me the truth.” Lucille returned the smile, her eyes filled with affection. “You’re welcome, my dear,” she said. “Now, go and play. Be the little girl you were always meant to be.” And with that, Olivia, clad in her onesie and diaper, skipped out of the room, her heart filled with joy and a newfound sense of self-acceptance. A wave of euphoria washed over Olivia as she skipped down the hallway, her diaper swishing with every step. But as she rounded a corner, a sense of unease crept over her. The familiar decor of her house seemed off, the colors too vibrant, the proportions distorted. A chilling realization struck her: this wasn’t real. She was still dreaming, still trapped in the illusion crafted by Lucille’s insidious device. The joy she had felt moments ago turned to dread as she understood the implications. “Lucille!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the empty hallway. “This is a dream! I know it is!” A giggle echoed behind her, and Lucille materialized from the shadows, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Very clever, my dear,” she purred. “But even in your dreams, you can’t escape the truth.” Olivia whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of fear and defiance. Lucille raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, but you are out, my dear,” she countered. “You’re right where you belong.” With a flick of her wrist, Lucille removed the helmet from Olivia’s head. The dream world shattered, the vibrant colors fading into the familiar darkness of the bedroom. Olivia found herself back in the crib, her onesie damp and clinging to her skin. The realization of her predicament, the undeniable truth of her desires, hit her like a tidal wave. “No,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. “This can’t be real. This can’t be who I am.” Suddenly, the world around Olivia transformed once again, the familiar chill of the helmet pressing against her temples as she entered a new dream realm. This time, she found herself in a lavish bedroom, the air filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and musk. The room was dimly lit, casting a seductive glow over the scene unfolding before her. Lucille stood before her, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she gazed at Olivia with hunger in her eyes. Lucille was dressed in a sheer robe that barely concealed her curves, the fabric clinging to her skin in all the right places. Olivia’s heart raced at the sight, a mixture of desire and trepidation swirling inside her. “Welcome, my dear Olivia,” Lucille purred, her voice sending shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her. She was no longer the innocent student or in a classroom or a maid in a ball; she was now a willing participant in a seductive game of pleasure and submission. Lucille approached Olivia, her hand reaching out to caress Olivia’s cheek with a feather-light touch. Olivia’s skin tingled at the contact, her body responding to the intimate gesture. “You’re such a good girl, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her words a tantalizing promise of what was to come. “Let me take care of you.” With a deft movement, Lucille lowered Olivia to the plush bed, her hands expertly undoing Olivia’s clothing until she was left in nothing but her soaked diaper. Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal, a heady mix of emotions swirling inside her. Lucille’s touch was electric as she traced a path down Olivia’s body, her fingers dancing over the wet fabric of the diaper. Olivia couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, her body arching instinctively towards Lucille’s touch. “Such a naughty girl,” Lucille murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “Let’s see just how wet you can get for me.” With skillful fingers, Lucille began to rub Olivia’s pussy through the diaper, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Olivia’s lips. The fabric became slick with Olivia’s arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. But Lucille wasn’t done yet. She produced a vibrator, the buzzing sound filling the room with anticipation. Placing it against the soaked diaper, she teased Olivia with the vibrating sensation, driving her wild with need. Olivia’s hips moved involuntarily, aching for more stimulation, more release. Lucille watched with a wicked gleam in her eyes, enjoying the sight of Olivia squirming under her touch. “Such a good girl,” Lucille cooed, increasing the intensity of the vibrator against the soaked fabric. Olivia’s moans grew louder, her body on the edge of ecstasy. And then, with a devious smile, Lucille presented a giant teddy bear, its plush form inviting and enticing. She guided Olivia’s hips towards the bear, urging her to hump the soft toy with abandon. Olivia couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge, the combination of the vibrator, the soaked diaper, and the commanding presence of Lucille pushing her towards a mind-blowing climax. She rode the teddy bear with abandon, her body shaking with pleasure as she reached the peak of ecstasy. As Olivia’s body trembled with release, the sensations washing over her like a tidal wave, she felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had experienced before. In that moment, she let go of all inhibitions, all reservations, and surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of the dream. The room faded away as the helmet was lifted from Olivia’s head, leaving her breathless and exhilarated. The memory of the dream lingered, a potent mix of desire and arousal that left Olivia questioning everything she thought she knew about herself. Lucille leaned over the crib, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it is real, my dear,” she purred, echoing Olivia’s words from moments before she went into her dream. “And it is exactly who you are.” She reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s soaked diaper. “You see, Olivia,” she continued, her voice a soothing melody, “your tears, your denial, it was all part of the process. You were fighting against the truth, clinging to an outdated image of yourself.” Lucille’s touch sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine, a strange mixture of shame and pleasure. “But now,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “you’ve seen the light. You’ve experienced the joy, the freedom, the pure bliss of embracing your inner little girl.” Olivia’s gaze fell to her diaper, the physical manifestation of her surrender. A tear rolled down her cheek, but this time, it wasn’t a tear of despair. It was a tear of acceptance, of release. She had fought against the truth for so long, but now, finally, she understood. This was who she was, this was what she wanted. And as the tears streamed down her face, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was a little girl, a messy, playful, diaper-loving little girl. And she was finally home with Mummy Lucille. The End. You can read more of my stories on my deviantart page or my site.
  3. DISCLAIMER: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! If you have not read my first story: Little Beginnings: New Life - I HIGHLY suggest you do so! This story will make a lot more sense if you do. It’s where the main character is first introduced and you and learn a lot about the little community I have created. ooOoo Chapter 1: Three Months Before The moment she stepped out of the cab, her skin began to burn. Luna groaned, enduring the full force of the simmering summer heat. This was the exact reason she never wanted to come to the South. There wasn’t anything she hated more than the sun, and by the end of the day, she’d be as red as a lobster. Her father always said it was their Irish blood and she’d roll her eyes in return. No shit sherlock. They were as white as the freakin moon. For sure, she’d stand out among the throng of tanned bodies, which in her case, was not a good thing. She wasn’t sure how long she would stay but Luna had gotten a credible lead on her dad. One she couldn’t ignore. And if the authorities were still scouring Raleigh, it would only take them hours to realize that she was no longer there. “Hello, Miss?” the driver grumbled, knocking her from her thoughts. “You gonna pay me or what? I’m not gonna sit here all day.” He was a grumpy old man who’d only reluctantly driven her all the way out here from North Carolina after promising a generous pay. She’d had to leave earlier than expected and while inconvenient, made her aware of how comfortable she’d become. Never did she stay in one place for more than a few months. It wasn’t safe. “O-of course,” she blushed as she fumbled around in her wallet and pulled out one hundred dollars for the driver. Despite his less-than-stellar personality, he knew when to stay quiet and not ask questions. That was good enough for her. She carried only the bag on her back and money to last her at least another year and a half. After that, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Luna watched the car take off down the dirt path before finally exhaling the breath she’d been holding in the entire ride. There was an eerie silence. A sort of calm before the storm. Luna had only ever known noise, growing up in the heart of Manhatten. Her father explained the importance of hiding in plain sight. Nobody would expect them to be in bustling New York City, a place known for the attention and spotlight. It was perfect… until it wasn’t. Now, looking straight ahead, Luna wondered if she had the right place. The roof of the red farmhouse was dilapidated and the land looked absolutely dead. Anyone who happened upon the house would believe it was abandoned. Though that was the point. No one was supposed to know this place existed. Luna had only found it due to her father. He was the reason she’d not been caught yet. The girl walked ahead with a renewed sense of purpose. The boards below her feet creaked and she rapped her knuckle, three than two than six times, on the faded white door. She clutched a swiss army knife in her other hand, hidden in her pocket. “Always be prepared.” Her father taught her. “Never hesitate.” She was literally in the middle of nowhere-bumfuck-South Carolina. No one would see her if she was kidnapped. No one would hear her if she screamed. Being vulnerable was something she did not like. The door opened a crack and dark brown eyes peered at her. Her hand tightened around the knife and heart frantically raced. “Who sent you?” it was a woman’s voice who asked. “Martin Creevy.” she used her father’s alias. “I assume you’ve heard of him before.” Oh, the woman definitely had by the way her eyes lit up. The door closed in her face and for a moment, Luna thought she’d been turned away. However, there was a click and suddenly it opened again, wider. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said, motioning with her hand. “C’mon in.” Despite the raised hairs on the back of her neck, she stepped over the threshold into the house. There was no turning back, only moving forward. She never could stop moving, searching. Not until he was found. The door slammed shut and Luna jumped, spinning around. She watched the woman re-chain the door and turn the several deadbolts. From the outside, it looked like nothing. Her eyes wandered around, trying to adjust to the darkness. They were in a narrow hallway, with no lights and no other exit. A few pictures adorned the walls and they stood on a dusty old rug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of mothballs and she leaned on each leg, testing the uneven floor. “You don’t think much of it.” Her eyes flashed back to the woman, who stared intently at her. “It’s just… different.” her bow-shaped lips pursed together. “Where do we go?” “Down.” “Down?” Luna didn’t think she meant literally, but she did. She watched as the woman bent down and peeled back the rug, revealing the wooden floor and… a hatch? “We take our security very seriously. There’s a ladder going down,” she explained, unlocking and lifting up the door. “You go first. I’ll follow.” ooOoo It was a tiny house. That, Luna had been sure of when she saw it from outside but inside, down here, was big. She supposed the basement would be large but not this big.They stood in the kitchen, which had no wall and lead right into the dining room where there was a small wooden table. Unable to help but gap, eyes going wide, the woman laughed, coming from behind her. “Don’t keep your mouth open too long. You’re gonna catch flies.” Her mouth instantly snapped shut and a furious blush spread across her face. Her blue eyes drifted over the woman beside her as she could see her properly for the first time in the light. She had a heart-shaped face and kind but weary brown eyes, that looked to have seen too much pain over the years. And despite her smooth, unwrinkled brown skin, her hair, which Luna could imagine must have been dark black at one point, now greyed. A few loose curls hung in her face and her lips formed a thin smile. “You look like your father.” Her brows furrowed together. She knew her father? “You have the same face but your eyes, they are exactly like your mother’s.” Her lips parted and she stilled. Her only reaction was to blink. “Call me Sue,” the woman offered no other explanation. “I always wondered when we would meet.” Still, she couldn’t bring herself to react. “This is the MacIntosh Safe House. I suspect this is the first one you have come across?” It was. Before, she was squatting in random abandoned buildings, resting while she had the chance. She knew there were safe houses, just didn’t know how to find them. “Sit down, Hon,” the wom- Sue, headed toward the kitchen cabinets, searching through them. “You’re exhausted. I’ll make you a snack.” Her feet moved on her own accord and sat down on the stool at the island table. Sue chopped an apple into slices. MacIntosh. She gulped, trying to find the courage to speak but was, she felt… Luna didn’t know how she felt. The strong confident girl from a few hours ago was gone and didn’t know what had happened to her. “My name is-” “I don’t want to know your real name.” she interrupted, not looking up from the cutting board. “Do you believe my name is actually Sue?” The girl did believe, well, at least up until now. “Charlie.” she made up on the spot. “Call me Charlie.” “Nice to meet you, Charlie.” The name sounded strange as the woman referred to her as it but Luna knew it was better this way. There was nothing to tie her to here. Well, except the driver but she doubted he’d remember. “I’m sure you have many questions and I’ll wait to answer them until you meet the others. It’s not common that we have a new person.” “The others? Oh, and I’m not planning on staying long. I’m just passing through.” She passed the plate across the table with the freshly cut apple slices and smiled. “Of course, you aren't.” The woman didn’t seem to believe her. However, the girl nibbled on the apple, realizing for the first time just how hungry she was. “There are six other people staying here. Three are out right now and the others are in the next room.” Glancing at the doorway in the dining room, she could hear the faintest sound. Was that a tv? There were a few voices. “Your father always bragged about how smart you were and never did I not believe him. You found us, which is not easy to do.” she leaned back against the oak cabinet. “How long ago did he go missing?” “Two years ago.” she ignored the heavy feeling in her heart. Realistically, he’d been preparing her for this since the moment she could walk and talk; but since it had happened, she’d never had time to fully comprehend. “He told me to run and not look back if they ever found us. He said that if he was captured then he’d find his way back to me someday. I believed him for a long time. Now, I’m less optimistic.” She sucked the tart flavor off of her fingers. The apples were gone. She’d eaten them all. “I didn’t believe it when he first told me about the communities, age play, and all of that stuff.” her lips curled up. “If the government knew, why hadn’t they put a stop to it? Innocent people are being kidnapped. My mother was kidnapped. Now my father. It made no sense.” At least, it used to not make sense. But now she realized, anything the government profited off of made perfect sense. Kidnapping defenseless people, stripping away their rights, all for what? To create a better nation? Her parents knew the price they would pay for speaking out about the secret age play communities and the government-sanctioned kidnappings. They just didn’t expect it would go this far- being on the run, living in hiding. And her mother especially didn’t expect she would get pregnant. Now she was destined for a life on the run. That is unless she wanted to get taken and forced back into diapers, made to shit and piss herself, play mindless baby games, and be just some sick couple’s object of amusement. That’s what had happened to her parents, she was sure of it. The only other option was that they were dead. Luna would gladly choose the second option if it came to it. No way would they take her alive. If Sue noticed the faraway look in her eyes, she didn’t comment. Instead, she took the dirty plate, dumping it in the sink. “Why don’t we go say hello to the others.” “Now?” she stammered. Growing up homeschooled, her interaction with people was severely limited. Being alone was what she preferred. It's what she was best at. “Yes, there’s just one thing you have to know." "What?" "Try not to stare.” “Stare?” “Mary gets mad and Tina can't help what was done to her.” Luna didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling, but it just wouldn’t go away. ooOoo A/N: Hello everyone! I promised I would post soon and I did! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and you may notice two familiar names :). If it doesn’t make sense at first, trust me it will soon! I will be alternating, telling Luna’s (Lulu) story from before she was taken and after in Henderson. I will touch a bit on the hospital but it will mostly be her life after. I should update again soon but I hope you all enjoy!
  4. Summary: After going through a traumatic childhood, Willa needs help. She's unknowingly admitted to Little Beginnings where she's going to have the chance to have the childhood she should've had (whether she wants to or not). ooOoo Chapter 1: “W-Willa…Willa Carolan,” the young girl stuttered. Her chocolate brown eyes focused on the black and white tiled floor as the receptionist typed upon the keyboard. She was the only one in the waiting room which she supposed made her feel a little better. She did not do well with interaction. The thought of even coming to therapy terrified her as she had never been before. She clenched her clammy hands into fists and counted backwards in her mind, trying to calm the beating of her heart. Suck it up. She thought. Plenty of people go to therapy. There was nothing to be worried about. That’s what she tried to tell herself. But she wasn’t so sure. She could barely talk to another person without stuttering or wanting to puke. How could she manage an hour long session? The whole point of therapy was to talk and she couldn’t even do that. “You can just take a seat in the chair right over there.” the woman smiled at Willa, finally having stopped typing. “Dr. Tischner will be out shortly.” Slightly nodding her head in thanks, she quickly scattered to the furthest corner in the small room away from the woman. With her knees pressed against her chest, she rested her head on them, taking in deep and rapid shallow breaths, ignoring the stack of magazines on the tiny table beside her. Willa didn’t know why she even agreed to come to this. She had managed to avoid it for the past ten years, silently suffering, never going out unless absolutely necessary. She was only twenty years old, had no friends, no job, and anxiety that riddled her mind and body. Adrian, her older brother was the one who supported her but she had a feeling he wanted her out of his home. His crazy ex- girlfriend of three years had just left and was still traumatized by... by everything. Willa thought his message was pretty clear when he scheduled the appointment himself and drove her, escorting her as far as the front door then leaving. She was pissed, rightfully so, that he would just abandon her like that. They were best friends. They had been for all of their lives. Even though her brother was five years older, they understood each other like no one else. She could count on him for everything. She didn’t have to hide away. They were exactly the same in everything from their caramel skin, eyes, round face and thick curly black hair. People would confuse them for twins because of how much they looked alike. So, yes, it hurt when he just dumped her at the building. He didn’t even say when he would be back and the unknown was what scared her the most. “Willa Carolan?” a new voice echoed throughout the room. Shooting her head up, a blonde haired woman dressed in a pink cashmere sweater and light jeans stood at the door with a clipboard. She looked to be about forty years old. Some lines were visible on her milky white skin but from afar she didn’t look to be over twenty five. On trembling legs, Willa walked across the room, ducking her head at the woman’s kind smile and followed her through the brown door into a small room. Sitting down on the lumpy grey couch, she examined everything around her. The walls were painted a mustard yellow and there was one small window which was the only light in the room. In front of her was a coffee table and a chair on the other side. An icy glass of water and a bowl of mints was situated in front of her. Her hand twitched, wanting to take a sip to cool her parched throat but she held off. Willa didn’t want to get too comfortable. She didn’t want to let her guard down. “It’s small, I know.” Willa jumped, turning to stare at the woman. The door shut and suddenly the two of them were alone. She sat down across from Willa with the clipboard and pen in her hand. Her blue eyes gleamed in curiosity. “I’m Dr. Tischner,” she said, her voice was low. Without realizing it, Willa slowly found herself relaxing at the woman’s soft tone. it was almost maternal, something she hadn't heard in many years. “You must be Willa. I believe it was your brother that set up the appointment, yeah?” Willa nodded her head. She kept her mouth shut, still inclined not to speak. Her foot tapped against the black carpet. Her eyes darted every which way, determined not to look at the doctor. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk. We can just answer, yes or no questions.” she waved her hand. “Everyone reacts differently to therapy so there is no one way to feel or act. It’s normal to be nervous or afraid. I like to go at the patient's pace. If you’re uncomfortable with any of my questions we can just move on. Does that seem fair?” Her eyebrows furrowed together, taking in what she said. Willa was not one to bare her soul to people, especially strangers. It was a relief to hear her say that because she didn’t know if she would ever be ready to share what happened. Willa nodded her head once again. It did seem fair. Looking down at her clipboard, she began to speak. “I just want to clarify a few things, first. Your report says that you are twenty years old; full name is Willa Jean Carolan; and that you were born November 12, 2000? ” The young girl gave a nod. “Great! Now that that’s out of the way I thought we could get to know each other a little.” she exclaimed. “My name is Marina Tischner and I’ve been a therapist for about ten years now. I love working with children and young adults such as yourself. I take a really laid back approach when counseling. I don’t push my patients into anything they are uncomfortable sharing and will not reveal to anyone what is said in this room unless it endangers the lives of others or yourself. Do you understand?” Willa tugged at a curl that had fallen loose from her ponytail. She bit her lip, humming a yes and hugged the pillow in her arms that sat beside her. Dr. Tischner continued to question her about different stuff in her life such as her favorite color, food, animal, etc, and by the end Will found herself slightly smiling, not as tense as she had been when she first arrived. There was something about the woman that gave off a maternal presence. Something she hadn’t felt since the death of her parents. Dr. Tischner cared about her. It wasn’t fake. She gulped, holding back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Willa bit her bottom lip, drawing blood but sucked it away. “I’d like to talk about you parents.” she casually brought up, stopping Willa in her tracks. Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. It was the one thing she refused to ever talk about. A single tear fell from her eye. “You witnessed your parents murder.” Dr. Tischner's voice was just above a whisper. “That’s when the anxiety and PTSD started, isn’t it?” Her chest rose up and down. She didn’t have the words to scream at her to stop the questions. Her shoulders shook as she continued to speak. Willa couldn’t breathe, she was gonna pass out. “You were only ten years old. I couldn’t imagine what that could do to a child.” she sadly shook her head. “You didn’t see your brother until you were at the hospital. That’s why he isn’t as affected as you are. Does that ring true?” The sound of a gunshot echoed in her mind. Her mother’s dead body fell to the ground. A pool of blood surrounded her. Willa’s father was already dead, having been murdered first. The intruders thought no one was home. That’s what they claimed in court. They never meant to kill anyone, they were just gonna rob her house. It didn’t make it any better because her mother and father were dead. She hid upstairs at the top of the staircase, terrified to make a move, afraid they’d hear her. It was two o’clock in the morning. Her brother was sleeping over at a friend's house. That was the day her life changed forever. “Take a sip of water.” Dr. Tischner calmly nodded toward the glass on the table. “We’ll stop the questioning.” She didn’t have to tell her twice. Holding the glass with shaking hands, she tilted it to her lips, gulping it down, barely noticing the change in taste. Willa finished it within a few seconds and collapsed back against the couch, suddenly overcome with fatigue. “We’ll stop for now. Why don’t you take a little nap… we’ve still got ten minutes left.” Dr. Tischner encouraged. Willa didn’t have to be told twice. A haze had clouded over her mind and suddenly she found it harder to stay awake. The only thing she could hear was the doctor’s voice calmly lulling her to sleep. ooOoo This couldn’t be real. Willa naively thought. The last thing she remembered was being at Dr. Tischner’s, her brother leaving her, recounting parents' death, and having a panic attack. She didn’t remember anything after that. A part of her desperately wished for this to be a dream but she knew it wasn’t. It was too real. Warm tears blinded her already blurred vision as her chest rose up and down, desperate to escape the entrapment she had been placed in. Willa wanted to be home in her own bedroom, laying in her queen sized bed. She wanted to be with her brother. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. She wanted to be away from here. Away from this woman who was holding her as if she weighed nothing. . She couldn’t move her arms or legs. Her entire body was constricted in a tight swaddle by the light pink blanket. It had taken a moment for her to realize that as she slowly awoke, hearing the soft sound of the woman’s voice. That was ten minutes ago. Willa should've been freaking out more than she was. She should’ve been crying and screaming and having a panic attack. But the only sign of her panic were the fat tears that rolled down her cheeks, as she stared up at the woman who cradled her against her bare skin. The only thing she could focus on was her green eyes, unable to see anything else. If she tried to look more than six feet away it all became a big blur. “You’re alright, baby.” the woman cooed as she wiped away the tears. She spoke down to her as if she were an actual infant, unable to understand basic speech.That pissed Willa off more than anything. But she had no way to show it except for the glare in her eyes. “Mommy’s got you,” she spoke in a high pitched voice. “You’re safe with mommy now. You don’t have to worry about those big bad thoughts in your head. Just suck your paci.” she tapped the large object that was stuffed in her mouth. Willa was forced to suck on it, unable to spit it out due to the strap that went around her head. Pitiful whimpers rose from the back of her throat and the woman condescendingly cooed, rocking them both in the rocking chair. They were in the infant ward. The room was light pink and smelled of baby powder. Ten large adult sized newborn incubators filled the room and changing tables ran along the walls. There was also a rocking chair in each corner of the room. Everything was adult sized. Tapping her bottom, Willa’s eyes widened in horror as she felt a cushiony bulk on her bottom half. The woman’s smile widened, showing off her shiny white teeth. “Does baby Willa have to use her diapee?” She began to wiggle as hard as she could, trying to escape but she was too weak. Now she was sobbeduncontrollably as the weight of the woman’s words sank in. She was swaddled like a newborn, sucking on a pacifier, and in a diaper that she was expected to use. Her vision had been blurred. Her muscles were weak. She was as helpless as an infant. Willa was an infant. The woman stood up, pacing as she rocked her back and forth, supporting her head like you’d do a real baby. She wore no shirt and Willa’s cheek was pressed right up against her large left breast. Willa was only faintly aware of the woman’s hand, pressing on her stomach. The more she wiggled the looser her bladder became until suddenly a warm stream flooded her diaper. The thick padding expanded and she screamed and screamed through the pacifier, glaring at the woman in hate for forcing her to piss herself. It was warm and wet, sloshing around her bottom before being absorbed. She desperately wanted it off. She was twenty years old. She hadn’t used a diaper since she was two years old. “I’m so proud of you!” the crazy woman praised her. “You used your diapee like a good little baby-- you’re my good little girl!” She gave her a wet kiss on the forhead and placed her on the changing table, ignoring the screams. A moment later, another woman walked into the room through the sliding doors. Both had curly brown hair that fell right above their shoulders and fair skin. She crooned, brushing her hair out of the girl's out of her face. “I think she’s one of the cutest infants we’ve had yet.” the woman tickled under her chin, causing Willa to try to wriggle away. “She’s also a very smelly baby! I think it’s time for a diapee change!” The second woman held her down as her mommy undid the swaddle revealing he naked body and sagging thick diaper. She continued to sniffle, out of energy to fight. A strap was tightened over her waist and chest while the second woman held down her shoulders. Moving quickly, the straps were undone and the diaper removed. Grabbing baby wipes, she wipes down everywhere, running her finger over her now bare pubic bone. Willa’s eyes realized at the realization only for the woman to giggle. “Babies like you don’t need grown up hair. Infants are bare.” she covered her in baby powder, not wanting to cause a rash and retapped an even thicker diaper making her unable to close her thighs. Undoing the straps, Willa wanted to plead not to be swaddled again but it’s what her mommy did. She wrapped it around her body even tighter than before and supporting her neck, held her against her body. “I’ll go get a bottle.” said the other woman. “Little babies like her shouldn’t be up for so long. Little Willa needs to go nighty- night.”
  5. At its core, overpopulation had led to many of the issues the world was facing today. The majority of these issues could have been easily fixed if properly addressed, or at least mitigated with proper legislation, but of course that wasn’t how things had gone. By now, we had reached a point of no return, and many had lost any hope of restoring the balance amongst the general populace. But hey, look on the bright side. At this point, overpopulation wasn’t even the biggest issue we were facing anymore. The wealth gap, or rather the segregation of the rich and poor had brought us lower class citizens to a slum-like state, even though we made up more than 80% of the population. Poverty had become the new norm, and those that were lucky took the few jobs made available, allowing them to live at a moderate level of comfort, that is if you count having a tin roof over your head comfort. Although, compared to most, it was. Others fought for what limited government assistance was made available each month, but most of us had come to accept the state of it, or at least tolerate the way things had become. Starvation was the norm. Exposure to the elements, and a complete disregard for any form of sanitization or comfort was the new way of life. As one might expect, crime had begun to skyrocket in recent years as more and more turned to crime as a means to survive. Prisons quickly reached max capacity, many using the prison system as a means to survive. Afterall, a warm meal and a bed was more than most of us had on the streets. But it didn’t help that they had indirectly disadvantaged the rest of us by forcing the authorities to create a new solution as serving your time was no longer possible with the new crime rates. And thus, the lottery system was created. Now, when you committed a crime, with prison time out of the picture, the sentences had to be something aside from prison time, and boy did they let their imaginations run wild. Of course, most saw this coming as the government slowly expanded their assistant efforts to be focused on improving the lives of the Uppers rather than the majority. I can still remember when they first announced their multi step plan, creating jobs to help better keep the two worlds apart. The Commissioners Authority they had called it. Promising a few thousands jobs to the lucky ones to help keep the poor in check. Ingenious if you ask me. Using the poor to help fight off the poor. And it worked of course. Life was so miserable for most, that even the mere chance at a better life was priceless. Even if it meant turning on their friends and families. But nonetheless, it only took a few years after its creation for people to realize that they had to take matters into their own hands. A true crime in the Authorities eyes. Most were just stealing food to feed their empty stomachs, or stealing power from local shops or unsuspecting neighbors, hoping to stay warm and save just enough money to afford the basic life necessities. Others turned to cyber crimes to hack through the financial system with a goal of getting rich, hoping to one day spread the wealth amongst the people and put an end to the current day norm. A cyber revolution. Really, any chance at escaping the slums for a chance of something greater was really the only motivator that kept most people going. Something better than what was currently being offered, by any means necessary. While most solutions to overpopulation had fallen to the wayside, once crime had begun to skyrocket, the Commissioners Authority quickly implemented a solution that killed two birds with one stone. Though, it was more of a solution to crime and over population than anything, not actually addressing the root of the problems at all. At its roots, it was a simple lottery draw for anyone caught committing a crime of any degree. Whether you stole a loaf of bread, or went on a serial killing spree, all crimes were added to the same lottery pool. I say lottery draw as if it is a good thing, when in reality it's one to be avoided, by any means necessary. Unlike most lottery draws, this draw was really used as a way to give out harsher punishments without directly handing out the punishments to individuals. It wasn’t a cruel and harsh punishment if there was a chance at something better. The sentences were made to be some of the worst things possible, with a handful of requests thrown in by the Uppers here and there to help fill roles for servants and essential workers, branding it as a “Chance at a better future!”. But everyone knew it was just a new form of indentured servitude, dedicating your life to make the life of the Uppers as pleasurable as possible. No one ever knew what options were in the lottery. Literally speaking, there could be a lottery ticket that grants you a billion credits, but you would never know it till you choose that option. More likely, was the forced servitude on distant planets in cold, harsh conditions, mining for precision metals until your body simply fell apart, where you’d then be left to the elements to finish you off. There was no mersey, but that wasn’t really the goal. The goal was to reduce crime, and more importantly, kill off those that were seen as a plague to the Uppers. The choice was simple, when you were caught committing a crime you had two choices. Immediate execution, or pull a ticket and enter the lottery. Once you pulled a ticket though, you had to take whatever it was that you got. There was no chance of escape by death if the ticket was something horrible. As such, most opted for death as they knew the awful things that could come from the lottery and didn’t want to take the chance. The choice of death was at least a quick, painless way to end the suffering that many were facing. But that wasn’t my story. ~~ I had been staying at a friend's house. Well, more of a friend's hidey hole if I am being honest. A small shelter pieced together with loose trash in a back alley way, held together with duct tape up on an old fire escape. It wasn’t much, but shelter was something that was hard to come by, especially in the colder months. There was a small space heater that helped keep the horribly insulated cardboard bearable, but I was wrapped up under what little blankets we had, struggling to keep warm. Alone, waiting for the return of my friends who had left earlier that morning in search of work. I laid still, trying to fight off the growling in my stomach that had been there since the night before. Perhaps I should have been searching for a job that morning too. I was stirred awake by screams of a siren outside of cardboard as one of the authorities hover vehicles pulled up within the alley. I knew immediately in that moment that I was fucked, but nonetheless, the fight or flight response kicked in and I quickly tried to scramble out from underneath my blankets, feeling the cold crisp air quickly chill my bones. I pulled the cardboard back, blinding myself with sun as I scurried out from underneath like some kind of rodent, quickly stumbling into the legs of two officers. I looked up at them, trembling from both the fear and the cold, still blinded by the sun, knowing it was over and that I would have no other choice but then to make the fatal decision that would lay before me. Unfazed by having watched me tunnel out of my trash pile, they pulled out their retinal scanner, the quickest way to get an accurate identity in today's world. I quickly got up on my knees so that I could at least try to keep some of my dignity as I stood there at their mercy. “Citizen ZZ1746890, you are hereby charged with the crime of unlawful residency and the crime of unlawful power tapping. You are hereby deemed guilty by the Commissioners Authority.” My gut dropped as I hung my head low. I knew exactly what to expect, and yet, somehow I was still disappointed. “Citizen ZZ1746890, as a result of your crime, you are hereby sentenced to death, or the lottery draw. Please clearly state your decision within 15 seconds, or the ruling will automatically be deemed as a lottery draw.” My heart was pumping faster than it ever had. I knew that both options would be awful, but I was young. I hadn’t experienced life the way I wanted. Death would be quick, painless and clean, but I just couldn’t force myself to say it. I sat there, silent, unable to speak as I listened to my heart pump. The longest 15 seconds of my life. “Citizen ZZ1746890, you are hereby sentenced to the lottery draw. As such, you will now be taken into custody and awake when your number is pulled”. With that, my world had gone dark almost instantly. Something I had not prepared for, but why waste energy potentially fighting a prisoner when you could use the custom implants that all citizens were given at birth to force them into an unconscious state. ~~ I stirred awake in a small white room, held in place by some form of magnetic field, holding the metal collars around my wrists and ankles tight to the floor. The fluorescent lights blinded me, as three individuals came into view. I was completely disorientated. How long had I been out? “Citizen ZZ1746890, we will now commence your lottery draw”. I looked up, trying to see their faces as my eyes adjusted to the lights. I could make out two guards and an older gentleman holding some type of tablet, probably using it to commence the draw. “Citizen ZZ1746890, congratulations, your lottery draw is complete. As such, you have been assigned to…” He paused. I could remember my eyes adjusting to the light as he said this, allowing me to see the confusion on his face as he read my ticket aloud. “Eh- Congratulations Citizen ZZ1746890, you have received a custom request ticket. This means that someone in the Uppers has put in a personal request and the system believes that you fit the bill”. My heart skipped a beat. Had this really happened? Had I really been given one of the better tickets, a chance at a better life? Had the rumors really been true? “As per the ticket, I will read out the request and all matching descriptors. If at any point you believe this request is unfit for you, this is the rare case you can discard the ticket.” “Discard?” I had asked. “Yes Citizen ZZ1746890, this request is an unusual one, but one that the requester wants to ensure will fit. As such, if you are unwilling to fit the descriptor, or know that you will be unable, you may request a single redraw. Might I add that we both know that by discarding this ticket, no matter its descriptor, you will be throwing away your single best shot at even a decent life.” I gulped. “Eh hem, Ambassador Obleece and his wife request a single ticket holder to serve as their…third party sexual partner to play the role of a sexually submissive adult baby…” I remembered hearing that, and just wondering what the fuck. Part of me wanted to decline in the moment, but what the man had said was true. This was likely far better than any other potential outcome, especially if the rumors were true. “The descriptor details are as follows. Ticket recipient: Must be 18+. Must be under 5’ 2”. Must come from an impoverished background, preferably from the streets. Must be a non violent crime. Must be a virgin. Must be free of any disease or contamination…and the rest goes on to be explicit details about your biological make up. Do you, Citizen ZZ1746890, accept your ticket, or do you wish to exercise your right and use your single discard?” “Biological make up?” I stumbled, unsure of what that was supposed to mean. “Specific identifiers of your biological make up are specified, including brain performance, blood type, specific gene pools, etc. The list goes on and on, but I can assure you the system has already verified that all of these things match. I can go into more detail if you really insist, but if I am being blunt, neither you, nor I am going to understand what these identifiers mean. Now, do you accept or wish to discard?” “I- I accept,” I had forced out, knowing damn well that I had no idea what to expect. ~~ Of course, in typical fashion of the Commissioners Authority, that was the last thing I remember before waking up where I am now. Though, I’m not too sure where that is. All I know is that I am inside of a small metal box, with a few air holes poked through to help me breathe. I could see blue skies and rolling clouds, as well as the faintest glimpse of the siding of a rather nice looking home, two things you would surely never see in the slums. Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my stories and want to help support me in creating more, please consider supporting me on my Patreon.
  6. Authors note This just a story that came to me this morning. It takes place in PrincessPottyPants's Diaper Dimension setting. All characters are in their 20's or older. It's probably just going to be a short story, I don't have any plans for it and I can't promise that I'll be inspired to write more. But I hope you enjoy it and I appreciate any critiques and responses. Fair warning, my writing is pretty rusty so there's bound to be some mistakes (especially if I don't go over it before posting). Also I have anxiety so I'll do my best to respond, just know I tend to be awkward ?. Prelude Marietta shut her eyes and wished she could cover her ears. The sharp laughter was deafening and pierced her deeply. How had she gotten here you ask? She had thought she was safe. Not only had she thought she was safe but she believed it and acted accordingly. One of the biggest mistakes a Little could make, and she had done it so confidently. Her mind kept replaying the events of the day in little bursts she couldn't control. Not being in control is something she will have to get used to, because she will never know it's freedom again. Chapter 1: Winter's Lament The morning had started off better then it had for a while. Spring was finally starting to show itself. Winter was still clutching on to the weather, not quite ready to go into hibernation. But, Winter's time was coming to an end regardless of it's desperate attempts to live on. This duel of the seasons left the mornings chilly and the afternoons warm, the perfect amounts of cold and hot. Marietta had come to hate Winter and it's bitter cold that left her miserable and desperate for warmth. So, while she didn't care for the rainy and allergy ridden Spring, she was ready to embrace it like a long lost friend. Marietta yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the shrill sound of her alarm clock dutifully made sure she was awake. "Hey Hewie, stop alarm." She told her AI Assistant as she got out of bed and stretched. "Okay, stopping the alarm." The little pink cube on her desk responded. Looking out her open window she felt an inner peace, today would be a good day she decided. Or at least far better then yesterday had been. The warmer weather seemed to chase away her negative thoughts and depressed mood. She knew it was only temporary, but it was still refreshing to have them at bay for now. "Hey Hewie, what's the weather today?" She asked while brushing her long curly black hair. "Right now the weather in Poptonia is 56 degrees, but it feels like 53 due to wind chill. The low for the day is 56 while the high is 73. There's a low chance of rain today." The promise of good weather brought a smile to the little woman's face. Today would be a good day to revitalize her garden. While it had snowed very sparsely this Winter, she had neglected to take any steps to protect her garden during the cold months. This meant she would have to put in extra effort to get it up and ready as quick as possible. Gardening was much more than a hobby for the little greenhorn, it was her lifeblood. Grocery stores are notorious for being a dangerous place for littles, especially if they go alone. Her garden helped her get all the fresh vegetables, fruit, and herbs that she would need for the year. Everything else she ordered online, but fresh food was something you couldn't trust to an online delivery service. If an Amazon or Tweener delivery driver found out they were delivering to a Little, they could tamper with the food and the Little would be none the wiser. That is, until they ended up having a massive 'accident' from the laxative that was injected into the food. Of course it would only be a few moments before the delivery driver, or someone sent on their behest, came to 'help' the poor Little. Helping them out of their soiled underwear and right into a nice thick diaper. Marietta shook her head to stop herself from ruminating on the unfairness and dangers of the life she lived. She was determined to use the nice weather as a springboard for positive thinking and a happier mood. Spring was for the right and now, it was for admiring the roses and enjoying life. Winter was for the past, nursing old pricks, and surviving. To cement her determination to a brighter day, she decided to wear some brighter colors then usual. The jeans she slid up over her bright pink panties were a nice deep blue. They would've looked better if they hugged her curves and showed off her long legs, but she couldn't take that risk. With them being baggy no one could tell what she was wearing underneath. She knew it was safer, and smarter, to wear a Pull-Up, but she couldn't bring herself to do it today. That would certainly tank her mood, and it would be a constant reminder of her place in this cruel world. Which, she was certain, was the whole point of the Amazons wanting her to wear them. To an Amazon a 'mature' Little didn't need diapers, and while their undergarments weren't policed like those of 'immature' Littles, a Pull-Up was a true sign of a Little's 'maturity'. Without one she was making herself vulnerable to Pull-Up Preachers and accusations surrendering her maturity. If the price of being happy for the day is a few minutes of being uncomfortable, that's a price she's willing to pay. In theory the baggy jeans are supposed to protect her from such experiences, but in practice Amazons were free to 'check' her if they wanted to. Even though there weren't any laws, or rules at her college, that demanded she wear protection, her Amazon teachers were still allowed to feel her up and openly embarrass her. After all, it would be their classroom she would 'ruin' or interrupt if she had an 'accident' due to not being properly 'protected'. And of course, 'Amazons Know Best', meaning they're always right and can get away with practically anything. After spending a few minutes perusing her closet, Marietta finally finds a suitable top. She slides the deep red blouse over her lacey pink bra. The short sleeved blouse was loose enough that it doesn't show off her breasts, and 'mature' enough that you can tell she's an adult. If she wore something that hugged her curves or showed off her breasts it would only be used against her by an Amazon hoping to adopt her. They would say she was trying so hard to look like an adult that she didn't care how 'risque' she looked. The cherry on top would be a comment along the lines of how she doesn't have very much to display anyway. She finishes off her look with a dark green cardigan, black sneakers, silver stud earrings, and a simple silver sun necklace. If she wears colors that are too bright it will invite an Amazon to imagine her in colorful baby clothes. If she wears too much jewelry, or if it's too loud in color or design, it would bring comments of how she's trying to hard or how cute she is. The life of a Little is one of meticulous planning and preparing. Grabbing her bookbag and a premade breakfast shake, Marietta steps out of the safety of her home, prepared for the beauty and potential dangers of the day. A hard slap on her bottom drags her back to the present, where she should be. After all, Winter is for the past, and despite all the mourning, Spring is here and it's time for the here and now. An involuntary whimper escapes from the little woman, drawing more of the deafening laughter. Opening her eyes Marietta's attention is greeted by hungry eyes and toothy grins. Awaiting her are dozens of grasping and wandering hands as their owners are desperate to take part in her torment. "Stop squirming!" The booming voice shouted at her. She couldn't think of who the voice belongs to, but she was sure it sounded familiar. In fact, she can't think of anything. Time feels excruciatingly slow and everything has a blur to it, not a single thought bubbles to the surface of her mind. A numbness seeps through her entire body, and her head feels weightless. Staring into the distance, Marietta is once again swept up into her memories, and away from the nightmare that is the here and now. *authors note* Okay so I'll definitely write another chapter because I have more ideas for this. Also while I do love a good cliffhanger, I hate unresolved ones and unanswered questions. But i have no idea when I'll write/post more, so I'll see you when I see you! ❤️ I don't have any experience posting in online forms/rooms like this so any advice relating to format and suggested tags would be appreciated as well!
  7. Chapter 1 I lay on the ground, wet padding beneath my butt. A tap from my mother-in-law and I raise up, the soggy diaper replaced by a fresh new one. Having been changed, it’s straight into a white/pink lacey onesie with the words “Daddy’s Princess” stenciled across the front before being laid in my crib and given a bottle of warm milk. No doubt my wife, who was on a date with one of my co-workers was having the time of her life. If all went well for her, she’d bring him back here to sleep with him in our marital bed where my crib sat at the foot of later this evening. And just two weeks ago, my life was normal. We’d been fooling around like most newlywed couples do. Her mouth teasing me to the point I wasn’t sure what was happening anymore, all I wanted was sweet release. Apparently, that’s when she brought it up, her desire to dominate, though I don’t remember it I do recall saying that I’d do anything for my rapture. One thing we had agreed upon in this relationship is that when you promise something, you live up to it; and I had agreed to do whatever she said, hence my current predicament. It had started small, the first morning she had reminded me of our pact, and she suggested that I wear her silky panties to work. No big deal really, I mean who checks what underwear you have on when you get to the office? That night, she forbid me to use the bathroom from 6pm to 6am. How could I not have had an accident after that? And that’s when she introduced the diapers. A bit hesitant at first I went along with it on the promise of phenomenal sex later that day, and to her credit it surpassed my wildest dreams. From then on I was required to wear a diaper if I even wanted the chance to have sex that day. A week later and many great orgasms later I decided it wasn’t so bad, really. They crinkled a bit, but I was getting used to the feeling of warmth around my crotch midday. That’s when she forbid me to change myself. She, or someone she trusted, would have to tend to my needs and for the first couple of days she was more than eager to provide a happy return each time she untaped my sodden underwear. Since I didn’t have to mess myself, I decided I could live with it. And that’s how I got to be in my current predicament. Two days ago she invited her mother over for dinner, after which she instructed me to remove my pants and watched as her mom wiped the urine from my body before taping another diaper to my waist. Laughing, my wife went out leaving me at the mercy of my mother-in-law who sent me to bed long before the sun went down. By the next morning I couldn’t hold it anymore and deposited the first load into my pants. When my wife changed me that morning, she decided that if I had the control of a baby perhaps I should sleep in the bed of one too. My co-worker, who happens to be a recreational woodworker came over that afternoon to build my new bed spending more time flirting with my wife then assembling my crib. After laughing as he watched my soggy pants get changed he was more than happy to satisfy my wife’s needs as I lay locked in the wooden fortress he constructed for me. I tried desperately to bring myself to bliss at the sounds of my wife cumming but the thick padding around my waist foiled my efforts. The next day my co-worker was the one to provide a new diaper at lunch with the added benefit of a hollow plug in my bottom so I wouldn’t be able to control my poop. Humiliated but aroused, he drove us both to my house where he picked up my wife and I was left in the care of her mother which brings us back to the beginning of this story. Laying in my crib, nipple of my bottle between my lips I couldn’t help but wonder what my life had come to. I had tried resisting once, my ass still stung from the paddling I’d gotten, just the thought of it made me slink back down to my blankie. No matter what happened from here on out, without question, my wife was my superior and I her diaper slave.
  8. Cody enters his room after getting back from a halloween party to see it filled wuth his sisters dollies and babyish stuff. "SARAH I told you to stop leaving your stupid baby stuff in my room. Like I get you like playing house with your little dollies but play your little dumb baby game in your room" Cody yells. Sarah leaves the room upset and mad at her brother. She enters her room and then goes to the window. The moon was full on halloween night. She then makes a wish "I wish my brother could get a taught a lesson and experience how fun playing house can be!" As Sarah went to sleep and as Cody is starting to clean his room. Some force pushes him over. Then feels a hand pulling his pants down and giving him a huge wedgie. "Owww quit it Sarah that's not funny. You'll be so sorry after I get you back" Cody yells. Cody soon turns around and soon discovers its not Sarah. It's one of her dollies that seem to have grown to about his height smiling down at him. The doll then speaks "you really should not yell at your sister. You been a bad boy and your going to be taught a lesson you soon will never forgot" The doll snaps her fingers and a bunch of other dollies appear and push him to the ground and pin him on the ground. The big dolly laughs "so you think your sister is such a big baby for liking dollies and playing house? Well I think it's time you experience first time the joy of playing house and guess who's going to be the baby". Cody thought he was dreaming but he wasn't. "Please let me go. I promise il be better towards my sister!" The dollies ignore his plead then start stripping him butt naked. The dolly then speaks "Wow you sure do have a small wee wee and you won't be needing to play with it anymore so let's fix that" the dolly then grabs a pink chastity cage and puts it around Cody's wee wee. "Come on please you can't do this. You can't lock it up." Cody whines. The dolly laughs "if your a good boy maybe you'll get play time but now we need to put your diaper on before you have any accidents" Cody eyes widened "no way I'm not being your dumb little baby you can't...." then a pacifier gers popped into his mouth and can't spit it out. "Now now baby don't fuss all babies need there diapers" The dolly then snaps it fingers and a huge thick diaper appears. This diaper was different it moved and acted like a alive monster. It quickly ran over and then wrapped itself around Cody's waist and then tapped itself shut. "Much better now its time to feed the baby" the dolly says. Just then a highchair appears and the dolly carries Cody to it and takes out the pacifier. The dolly then grabs yucky baby food "open up sweetie it's feeding time". Cody tries to close just mouth but the dolly plugs his nose and gets a fully mouthful of goop in his mouth. She feeds him 4 packs of baby food. She then takes him and lays him across his lap then feeds him a warm bottle of milk. Just then Cody releases a huge fart *pfft* "My my I think baby needs to go poopy. Well go on use your diaper mister" the dolly giggles. Cody yells "no way I'm using this diaper you can't make me" Just then the diaper attached to him starts to squeeze in onto his stomach making it hard to hold in his poop. Unfortunately he couldn't hold it anymore and made a huge mush of poop in his diaper. "Peeyeww what a stinker looks like you need to be kept in diapers. How about a ride on the stink train" The dolly grabs him and bounces Cody on her knee mushing all his poopy all over. Cody disgusted couldn't believe he was treated like this. The dolly laughed "Ok time for your diaper change" the dolly puts him on the changing table and starts to undo the tapes. "Wheew somebody made a big present in his diaper" the dolly laughed again. Cody blushed but it was way better then staying in it. The dolly then takes off his cage and says "how about some fun since you been such a good boy". The new diaper she put underneath him formed a tounge from the inside and wrapped around his dick. Then it started to rub up and down its slimy tongue. The dolly the revealed her boobs and had Cody suck her booby milk "thats right Cody drink your mommys milk and make milky in your diaper" the doll smiled. The dolly then placed its hand in lube then stuck its finger up his butt. Cody couldn't help it. It felt so good. "That's it make milky for mommy" the dolly smiled. Then Cody blasted a full bunch of cum into the diaper and the diaper licked it up. "Such a good boy but you made a bit of a huge mess in your diaper. Time for a spanking" The dolly places him over his knee and spanks his bottom red. After his spanking the dolly puts him in a crib then gives him milk and he falls fast asleep. The next morning a flash of light wakes him up. His sister Sarah had her phone taking pics of him. "Oh my gosh baby bro you look so cute. I didn't know you liking acting like a baby" Cody protested "no Sarah its not what you think. Your dolly came alive and put me in this. Please delete the pics" Sarah then smiled "what a overactive imagination you have but sorry your just too cute and it's going to be fun having my own baby brother to play house with. If you don't play il send the pics I took to everybody you know. So better play along"
  9. Chapter 1 This time Cory had just exaggerated, when his aunt Ceara had come to his school because called by the principal. She found him sitting on a bench in front of the principal's office with his clothes ripped, his lip split, and a flashy black eye. She didn’t tell him anything because she was too angry but she gave him a bad look as if to say that after they would do the math, she went into the principal’s office and sat down to listen to what the man had to say her. This was the fourth brawl in a month in which the seven-year-old boy had been involved and now Aunt Ceara had it up her hair, came out of the principal’s office and took Cory by the arm, taking him very quickly to the school exit, heading towards his car and severely ordering the boy to get in and sit in the back seat before closing the car door and sitting in the seat in the driver’s seat by accessing the engine and leaving for home. "I was going to run errands so now come with me, then let's go home and do the math!" his aunt coldly told the child as he looked silently out the car window sulking. The car drove for a few minutes east and parked in front of a shop the boy had never seen, Aunt Clear got out of the car and opened the door, telling Cory to get out of the car and follow her to the store door. The shop seemed to specialize in things for very young children: pacies, diapers, little dresses, but Cory began to feel very uncomfortable when she noticed that some of the suits on display were of him size, Aunt Clear had put in her basket a pack of plastic baby bottles other pacing, bottles other paci, before taking a leotard and ordering to Cory to turn around to measure his shoulders before putting it in the basket along with others of the same size. While the woman was watching a plastic dining service of Monsters & Co, she knew that her nephew loved that cartoon very much, she received a phone call on her mobile phone "halo! Yes Desy I'm right here I'm taking the last things" said the woman to her daughter "oh she's here? Well tell her I'll be home in a quarter of an hour at most," the woman said as she headed with her nephew to the store's checkout and then to the exit. "Let's get back to the car!" said Ceara to Cory in a stern tone of voice, heading for his car, getting in the car and setting off to head home. During the journey the woman and the boy remained in complete silence with Cory looking out the window worried about what was happening. “ When they arrived at the house Aunt got Ceara out of the car and let her grandson down, opened the trunk and took the things he had bought as Cory headed for the front door which was opened by his cousin while his aunt told him to go to his room and not touch either video games, TV, nor computer because he was in punishment , telling her cousin to make sure what she said was done. Then the girl followed the little boy into his bedroom and removed the adapters from all the child's electronic devices so that he couldn't use them before he took all his comics and gave him a doorbell, so he could call her in case he needed the bathroom, exiting and locking the door leaving him to stay there until they call him. The child took off his shoes and threw himself on the bed exhausted for the bad day but did not want to sleep, he simply lay on his bed while the outside they definitely talked about him. After about an hour Desy opened the door telling him to go down to the living room because they wanted him but the guy turned the other way and said no. Then the cousin insisted but the child began to do the whims squealing and turning on the bed not even touching "now listen spoiled baby! You will come from there with the good or the bad" "NO!" said the child angrily "as you will. I gave you a chance to come over there with the good ones, but you didn't pick it up. We will take note of that," he said as he left Cory's room, saying he had not intended his veiled threat. Soon after Desy returned to the little boy's bedroom with his aunt and a woman in his forties that the child had never seen, she sat down on his bed asking why he had not come when his cousin had called him but he did not answer by turning his head on the other side “I asked you a question!” said the woman, taking the baby’s chin and turning it around to look him in the eye before the child ran away from the grip. "As you want!" the woman said, taking the boy by the wrists and putting him on her knees, pulling down the boy's pants and underpants to his ankles and starting to spank him very hard, in front of his aunt and cousin who watched the scene doing nothing, making him cry and scream like a brat, She then asked Desy to take off his pants and underpants because she wanted to see them better and asked Aunt Ceara if it was customary for her to find the child's underwear in those conditions and when the child's aunt responded by sighing affirmatively the woman opened with her hands the old baby's antiques that stiffened to that invasion of her space. "As I imagined!" said the woman with great anger, "this child does not have the slightest care of his personal hygiene! Luckily, he won't be looking after it himself anymore!" The woman said, ordering the little boy to get up and go into the living room and give him a strong spanking to encourage the baby, who was still sobbing, to walk to the living room where there was a plaid lying on the floor "well Cory! Now you just have to lie on the plaid," the woman told the child as she knelt by the towel "No!" the child replied, crossing his arms and receiving from the woman another very strong spanking on the still red buttocks that caused him to burst into tears as the lady repeated the order threatening to give him more but the child gave up lying on top of the plaid covering the private parts with the hands that the cousin gently took and put over his head. Cory was extremely agitated, both for the embarrassment of being naked in front of a perfect stranger and because he was not in control of the situation, which he had always had everything he wanted, so Desy took a pacifier from a jar and put it in his mouth holding him still with his fingers until Cory started sucking it. The child saw that the unknown woman gave wipes to her aunt who used them to clean her private parts, before seeing a diaper folded into the unknown woman's hand;The child saw that the unknown woman gave wipes to her aunt who used them to clean her private parts, before seeing a diaper folded into the unknown woman’s hand; so Cory decided to turn around and run but he didn't come to terms with Desy immediately grabbing him by lifting him up and putting him on his lap, as he sat in the armchair and began to spank him very hard again making him cry again, so Cory decided to turn around and run but he didn’t come to terms with Desy immediately grabbing him by lifting him up and putting him on his lap, as he sat in the armchair and began to spank him very hard again making him cry again, before taking a wipe and starting to clean his butt making him feel like a three-year-old to put him back lying on the plaid in front of Aunt Ceara who, after finishing cleaning his genitals well, took him by the ankles by lifting him to put the diaper under his butt, before smearing him a little cream on his intimate parts and on the ass before closing the groin on him before taking a wipe and starting to clean his butt making him feel like a three-year-old to put him back lying on the plaid in front of Aunt Ceara who, after finishing cleaning his genitals well, took him by the ankles by lifting him to put the diaper under his butt, before smearing him a little cream on his intimate parts and on the ass before closing it his groin and taping it to his hips.
  10. “Tommy’s into some kinky stuff,” Monique explained casually to the awestruck girl. “You’re a virgin, right?” Brandy stared at the other girl like a dear caught in the headlights. “It’s fine if you are. I’d be surprised if you weren’t. No offense,” she added hastily, but Brandy couldn’t help but feel that it was meant to offend. But she couldn’t argue with her, and Monique was actually offering to help her. “I am,” Brandy admitted. She considered telling Monique that Cole Garber had kissed her at the ninth grade formal, but an awkward and sloppy kiss with a nerd from the mathletes wouldn’t earn her any cred with her new, potential friend. “Hey, Tommy is a great guy to turn in your v-card to. Like I said though, he’s… experienced.” Brandy nodded rapidly. “Any advice you have, I’d owe you big.” Monique chuckled. “You will. That’s okay. I wish I’d had someone like me when I was younger.” Monique was actually younger than Brandy, having recently celebrated her eighteenth birthday two months after Brandy. Brandy hadn’t been invited to her massive blowout, but she’d heard about it from nearly everyone else. Brandy herself celebrated her eighteenth with her parents and grandparents. But things were going to change. She was hot now. Tommy had asked her out. She was in Monique’s house! “Well I’m glad I have you,” Brandy said with a hopeful smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you break up with him?” “We wanted different things,” she said wistfully. “There wasn’t anything wrong with him,” Monique assured her. “I think the two of you would be cute together. We’re being real mature and staying friends; I just want him to be happy.” “Me too!” “And that means making sure you’re, a little more prepared.” Brandy gulped and nodded. “Let’s get you dressed.” Monique opened her closet and walked in. Brandy watched with mounting anticipation, until she saw what Monique selected. “What is that?” Monique sighed dramatically. “Tommy is a total daddy, right?” Brandy nodded. She knew the term daddy, and it wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when she considered Tommy, but she was eager to act like she knew something, so she played along. “Well he’s like, an actually daddy.” “He has kids?” Monique put her forehead in her hands. “No, he’s eighteen. Obviously not. He’s a daddy daddy.” Brandy looked at her blankly. Monique rolled her eyes. “Daddy is sexy, Brandy.” She pursed her lips and fluttered her eyelashes. “I’ve been a bad giwl, daddy. Please punish me,” she said in a high-pitched voice, leaning forward and putting her hands on her knees, thrusting her ass out. Brandy’s eyes widened. “Oh!” “Now you get it. But relax, he’ll find your innocent naivety endearing. You do have a whole cute little girl thing going for you.” Brandy blushed. She tried so hard to look and act mature, and was always fighting uphill against her hand me down clothes and girlish figure. “You think, you think Tommy will like that?” She tried to imagine herself using that coquettish voice, and couldn’t picture it. “Oh, absolutely.” Monique returned to the closet and dug deeper. “But just to make sure, I’m going to get you dressed for the part.” The idea of getting to wear anything from Monique’s wardrobe both thrilled and terrified Brandy. Everything she owned seemed to be designer, and Brandy could only dream of being able to afford some of the things she’d seen Monique wear, but at the same time, everything seemed perfectly tailored to fit Monique’s exquisite body. There was no way anything she pulled out of that closet could fit her the way they fit their owner. “Hmmm, one of these.” Monique emerged from the closet, three dresses on hangers dangling from her fingers. She promptly pinned one hanger to her chest with her chin and held the other two up in front of the still stunned Brandy, assessing them. “The blue is much cuter, but green is definitely more your color.” Brandy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror with the offered dresses held in front of her, and her cheeks flushed. Monique’s initial assessment wasn’t wrong, per se, but they weren’t the dresses she had imagined Monique picking out for her. She couldn’t imagine Monique wearing, or even owning, the garments, for that matter. “Umm,” she was terrified of being rude, and couldn’t think of what to say. Monique didn’t give her the chance. “You’re right.” She dropped the two dresses unceremoniously on the floor and held up the third one. “Yes!” The other two dresses had been, juvenile was the most diplomatic word. They harkened back to the dresses she and her friends had worn to the eighth grade formal, big puffy dresses and with big shoulders. The pink dress now held in front of her seemed like something a toddler might wear, with lots of ruffles and a big pink bow on the back, and more matching little ones on the short, puffy sleeves. The idea that beautiful, elegant Monique wore something like this was absurd. The idea of her in something like this was mortifying. “It’s perfect!” “Are you sure?” Brandy managed, her voice quiet. “It seems…” “Of course I’m sure. Do you want my help or not?” “I do, I do!” She desperately did, ignoring the alarm bells ringing in her head. Monique hadn’t ever really been friendly to her before, but she wasn’t one of the mean girls who made fun of her. “Good. Because I want this to work out well for you. For both of you. I want Tommy to be happy.” “So you, you wore this for him?” She looked down at the dress draped in front of her, rubbing her fingers along the big, satin ribbon. Monique gave a wan smile. “There were many reasons we didn’t work out.” Brandy nodded, the pieces starting to fit together. If this was the kind of thing Tommy wanted in a girlfriend, Monique probably wasn’t it. The question was, was she? “Let’s see you in it.” Brandy looked around for a place to change, trying to remember if she’d seen a bathroom on the way to Monique’s room. “Come on, put it on.” Brandy’s breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t even like changing in the locker rooms for gym class, but to undress in front of Monique was more than daunting. She briefly weighed the options of just trying to pull the dress on over her baggy sweatshirt and jeans, but she doubted Monique would let her get away with that. She settled for a half turn, compromising by not offering a full view of her front of back while she nervously pulled her sweatshirt over her head. She left her pants on while she tried to pull the dress over her head, practically swimming through the billowing fabric while she looked for the appropriate holes. “What are you doing?” she squealed when she felt the button on her jeans being undone. “Helping you, duh,” came Monique’s reply from beneath her. Still helplessly tangled in the dress, she was helpless to stop the other girl from pulling her pants down around her ankles. “Cute panties,” Monique commented. “Step out.” Brandy blushed like crazy under the dress while she obediently stepped out of her jeans. She could see the ceiling through the head hole, but she didn’t push through, afraid to come out beat red. And then suddenly the dress was being pulled back up off of her. Brandy found herself face to face with Monique, standing in the popular girl’s bedroom in just her underwear, her mouth agape in shock. “You we’re trying to put it on backwards,” Monique said, spinning it around. “Take off your bra too.” “What?” Brandy sputtered, reflexively crossing her arms across her chest. “You don’t have anything I have seen before.” Monique’s eyes flicked down to her own, better endowed chest. Gulping, Brandy hastened to take off her bra, determined to prove she didn’t need Monique’s help with that too. “You barely even need a bra,” the other girl said, eyeing Brandy’s perky breasts. Brandy quickly covered herself again. Monique laughed, but it wasn’t the malicious laugh she had been expecting. “That’s not a bad thing.” She cupped her own breasts. “My back hurts now lugging these things around. Imagine what it’ll be like when I’m forty.” “You think Tommy will like them?” she asked meekly, slowly lowering her hands. “You want to know a secret?” “What?” “Everyone likes tits. Big ones, small ones, perky ones, saggy ones. Some are better than others, and yours,” she reached out, palming Brandy’s boobs and giving them a slow, gentle squeeze. “Are great.” Brandy stifled a moan at the alien sensation of someone’s hands other than her own touching her breasts. It certainly wasn’t the way she imagined it, another girl, Monique no less, but it felt good, a shiver of pleasure pulsing through her. “Tha—thank you.” “You’re welcome, cutie.” Monique winked at her, and then lifted the dress again. Brandy lifted her arms, letting the other girl guide the dress over her head. She stood still, watching her reflection in the mirror while Monique laced up the back behind her. “What do you think?” Juvenile, childish, immature. She dared not voice her initial impression as she stared at her reflection. “You’re very cute,” Monique said, straitening out the big, floppy bow. “You think so?” the dolled up girl asked, her emotions see-sawing between being embarrassed and being flattered by what seemed like genuine praise from the girl she didn’t even realize she so desperately craved approval from. “I do.” Monique pulled Brandy’s hair from its ponytail and began brushing it. “What are you doing?” “Fixing your hair,” she said, gently brushing out the tangles in Brandy’s wavy brown hair. Brandy watched in the mirror. It was surprisingly soothing, having someone else brush her hair. The apprehension started to slowly melt away with each stroke, and she fidgeted with the hem of her dress. It was short, and as juvenile as the ruffled pink garment was, she realized she would actually have to be conscious of its short length. Monique seeing her panties had been mortifying, she definitely didn’t want to accidentally flash anyone else. “We’ll do your hair and make up, get you nice and cute for your date.” Brandy found herself nodding along. She hated doing her hair. No matter what she did with it, she couldn’t ever get it how she wished it would look, and the few times she borrowed her aunt’s straightener, it seemed like it was more effort than it was worth for the lackluster results. But Monique would make her look pretty for Tommy. “You did stuff like this for him, when you were dating?” she asked as Monique brought out her curling iron. “I did all kinds of things for him. I suppose I still am. But he’s worth it.” It occurred to Brandy again that Monique helping prep her for a date with her ex was probably more than a little awkward for her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Nonsense,” Monique chided her. “We’re both much happier this way.” “Thank you, really, for your help.” “Oh sweetie, it’s nothing.” “I never imagined that Tommy would ever be interested in me, or that you’d be so nice to me.” “Awww, you’re too sweet.” Monique stepped back, admiring her handwork. Brandy turned her head from side to side, the tightly curled ringlets of hair bouncing in the pigtails Monique had tied her hair in, using bright pink ribbons that matched her dress. She looked more like a little girl than ever, but she had to admit she didn’t hate it. She imagined with a short pleated skirt and white blouse she could pull off the sexy schoolgirl look with her pigtails. “Do you like it?” Brandy nodded, the springy curls bouncing along with her. “I do, thank you.” “Now for your makeup.” Monique abruptly spun her around to face her, foundation brush already in hand. Brandy could no longer see what was being done to her in the mirror, instead forced to focus on the popular girl applying her makeup. Monique had her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, like an artist, while she worked with practiced ease. “Purse your lips for me,” she instructed, applying lipstick. “And… perfect.” Monique grabbed her shoulders and turned her back around to the mirror. A gasp escaped Brandy’s painted lips. She’d never figured out how to properly do her own makeup, and her few attempts had ended with her looking more like a clown than the sexy girl she wanted to emulate. Monique’s work was subtle, but effective, transforming her face. She hadn’t opted for the bold eyeliner and mascara choices Monique tended to go for on her own face, adding just a touch of foundation and blush to highlight her rosy cheeks and accent her natural freckles. “Wow.” “I know, right? You just needed me to take care of you.” Brandy nodded, still transfixed in her reflection. “You’re almost ready for your date.” The newly transformed girl looked at her questioningly. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Close your eyes.” Brandy obediently shut her eyes, listening intently to the Monique moving around over the sound of her own excited breathing. “Wha—what are you doing?!” she cried out as she felt Monique’s soft fingers hook into the waistband of her underwear. “As cute as your little panties are, these won’t do.” Brandy opened her eyes to look down and see Monique crouched between her legs, her hands under her short dress. “Did I tell you that you could open your eyes yet?” “No,” she answered sheepishly, shutting her eyes again, her hands fidgeting nervously by her sides while Monique resumed, her long, beautifully done nails grazing lightly along her thighs. She didn’t wait to be told this time, lifting first her left and then her right leg to step out of her panties. The girl could feel the hem of her dress on her thighs, but she knew it wasn’t long enough to protect her modesty from where Monique was. She waited for the instruction to lift her legs again, but it didn’t come. Instead she felt Monique hands between her thighs, spreading her legs. “What are you doing?” “Giving you your surprise,” Monique answered. “Be a good girl and keep your legs spread for me.” Something soft and smooth ran along the inside of her thighs. Brandy fought the urge to open her eyes and close her legs, her breath quickening. Monique pulled the thing all the way up, covering both her butt and pubis. It was wrapped snugly around her waist. “Can I open my eyes now?” She couldn’t help herself, peaking for just a second, catching a glimpse of the top of Monique’s head in front of her, but she couldn’t see what the other girl had done to her. “Almost,” Monique purred. Brandy waited, her heart racing. “You may open them.” Brandy’s eyes snapped opened. Monique was right in front of her, her face just inches from her own, a satisfied smile on her face. Brandy took a flatering step back and hiked up her short dress, looking down. “Is that— did you put me in a—” Monique had stepped back, her phone in her hands. Brandy yanked her dress back down, but she knew it was too late, the click of the shutter having already sounded. “What did you do?!” Brandy blurted, a thousand nightmares coming to reality in her mind. “I helped you get dressed for your big date, baby girl,” Monique said, still taking pictures of the furiously blushing girl in the childish pink dress before her, even stooping low to make sure she got that flash of white barely concealed under her dress. “You’re just so cute, I had to take pictures.” “Please, you can’t post those! I’ll—” Monique’s grin said it all. She’d what? Tells everyone the most popular girl had dressed her up like a little girl and put her in a diaper? She could lie, try and tell them she was forced, but that was almost as bad. She could try and say they were fake, but who would everyone believe, her, or Monique? They’d believe anything Monique told them. Just like she’d believed Monique genuinely wanted to help her, wanted to be her friend. Her face got hot, and her fists clenched by her sides. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. If she tried to speak, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop. “Awww, don’t cry, baby Brandy.” That’s what everyone would call her. She could hear it, ringing through the halls of school. “What’s the matter?” Monique cooed. She put her arm around Brandy’s quivering shoulder, holding her close. “Whu— why?” Brandy choked out, just barely managing to hold back the tears. “Because you needed my help.” Brandy tried to squirm away, but Monique held her tighter, getting right in her face again, driving home the couple inches of height she had over the smaller girl. “You’re just so cute, I couldn’t help myself. And you’re even more adorable now, in your pretty little dress and your pigtails and your diaper.” She reached between Brandy’s legs, grabbing a big handful of the crinkly padding and squeezing. Brandy whimpered. She could feel the alien sensation against her pussy. “I can’t wear this.” “Of course you can. You’ll look so precious on your date.” Brandy’s eyes widened. Tommy couldn’t see her like this! “No, please Monique! Let me change!” “Do you need your diapered changed so soon?” Monique teased, tugging on the front of the mortified girl’s diaper. “What! No! Please Monique, just give me back my panties. Tommy can’t see me wearing—” she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “This.” “If you’re a good girl and behave yourself, he won’t have to,” Monique straightened out her dress, hiding the diaper from view. “The only reason he should see what’s under your dress is if you’re doing something naughty. And you’re much too little to do anything like that, aren’t you?” She grabbed Brandy’s chin and forced the girl to bob her head. “That’s right. But just to be sure you don’t try anything,” she pulled something out of her drawer, holding it up. It was a big, clear plastic pair of panties, but Brandy could see threaded around the waist and leg holes was a length of fine chain, with three little heart shaped locks. “Please, you don’t need that,” Brandy whined. “I know I don’t, but you do.” She knelt, holding out the locking panties. “Come on baby girl, step in.” Brandy kept her feet firmly planted on the floor, fighting the urge to cry again. She’d been so stupid, naive to think Monique’s intentions were altruistic. “I’d rather keep this our little secret, I’d hate to have to post those adorable pictures I have of you.” Sniffling, Brandy lifted one leg, and the other. Only a few short minutes ago, she’d had her eyes closed, hoping she’d be stepping into some sexy lingerie. Now she felt the small chain links surrounded by plastic gliding up her legs. The diaper crinkled noisily as Monique pulled the plastic panties up, and she felt it tighten snugly around her waist. Click Click Click “There we go.” Monique dangled a small silver key on a black cord in front of the diapered girl, before draping it around her neck, the key resting between her boobs. “Now I can trust that you’ll be a good girl and don’t get up to any naughty business with Tommy.” Brandy whimpered. “I can’t—” “Shhhh,” Monique put a finger to Brandy’s lips. “You don’t want to stand him up, do you?” “No,” she mumbled softly around Monique’s finger. “No, you don’t. You’re going to go on your little date, and when you’re done, you’ll come right back here so I can change your diaper.” Brandy’s eyes widened, realizing the implications of being locked in the diaper. “I’ve got to go home though!” she protested. “And if Tommy asked you to go home with him tonight, you’re telling me you didn’t have an excuse lined up?” “I—” she started, but there was no point in refuting it. “That’s what I thought.” “I’m sorry!” she blurted. “I won’t go out with him. I had no idea you still liked him, but I should have. It’s wrong of me to go out with him.” Monique surprised her by hugging her. “Is that what you’re worried about? Silly little girl.” Monique patted her head. “I’m not upset you’re going out with him.” “Then why?” Monique stood back, holding Brandy firmly by the shoulders. “Because you look so cute like this. Because I could. You made it so easy. But mostly just because I wanted to.” Brandy gulped, speechless. She’d offered no resistance, walking willingly into this goddess’s lair and letting her dress her up. “My my, look at the time. We don’t want you to be late for your date.” Brandy had no idea what time it was, she couldn’t see a clock. She looked at her purse, where her phone was, lying on Monique’s bed where she had left it. So close, but still out of her reach as Monique spun her around and guided her towards the door. Her thighs rubbed against the thick diaper as she walked, the bulky garment forcing her to waddle slightly, a distinctive crinkle coming from under her short dress. “I need my purse. My keys—” she tried to protest, but Monique already had her out the door, heading downstairs. “I’ll drop you off. You don’t worry about a thing, I’ll make sure you get to your date safely.” She glanced longingly at her beat up, old car, her means of escape, as Monique lead her to her own, flashy, brand new sports car. Brandy offered no resistance as Monique opened the back door for her and gestured to the middle seat. Monique even buckled her in, Brandy herself too busy discovering that the raised partition in the floor left her with little choice but to keep her legs spread, and no matter how much she tried to push the ruffled layers of her dress down, hiding her diaper was impossible. “Are you ready?” Monique asked, catching her eye in the rear view mirror. Brandy couldn’t meet her gaze, looking down at her dress. She’d been so stupid. When she looked back up, Monique had angled the mirror downward, and she realized the other girl was looking at her diaper. Brandy blushed deeper and pushed her dress down, holding it there the entire drive. Monique talked at her the whole way, telling her how cute she looked, how much Tommy would enjoy her new look, how much fun she would have. Her words washed over Brandy while the impending sense of dread grew in the pit of the stomach. “We’re here.” Brandy looked up, startled. They were parked outside the restaurant. Part of her wanted to undo her seatbelt herself and cling to that one little shred of dignity, but she wasn’t ready, her hand frozen on the buckle until Monique was leaning into the back seat, brushing aside her limp hand and unbuckling the seatbelt for her. “Remember,” Monique reached under her dress, squeezing the padded crotch of the diaper. “Be a good girl.” “Don’t make me do this,” Brandy whispered. “Silly girl,” Monique chided, adjusting one of her ponytails. “I’m not making you do this. You wanted this.” “Not like this!” “Nonsense.” Monique grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the car. Brandy squeaked in surprise as the domineering girl gave her a slap on her diapered butt, ushering her towards the restaurant. “Have fun. I’ll see you tonight!” Brandy forced her legs to move, taking one step at a time as she walked up to the front door. She could feel Monique watching her from her car. It felt like everyone was staring at her. The bell tinkled above the door. It was a nice restaurant, not too fancy. She’d never been before, but when Tommy had suggested it, she’d immediately thought of it as the perfect place for a first date. The cozy atmosphere she’d imagined from looking inside the windows, now felt cramped, offering her no place to hide as it seemed like everyone glanced up at the jingling bell alerting them to her entrance. “Hi!” the hostess greeted her. Brandy recognized her immediately. She’d been a senior when she was just a freshman, Sarah, and she hoped the older girl didn’t recognize her. “How can I help you?” “I’m, um, meeting someone.” She still had no idea what time it was. Tommy was supposed to meet her at seven. A quick glance around the restaurant revealed he wasn’t already there. She was early, but how early? Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe he’d stood her up. Even as much as she dreaded him seeing her like this, that thought that she might be tricked twice filled her with even more panic. “Table for two?” Sarah asked. She could just leave. Turn around, walk out the door. She could walk home from here, even if it took her all night. She could transfer schools, spend the last two months of her senior year at another school, and never see Monique or Tommy or any of her classmates ever again. Brandy nodded. “Right this way.” Brandy followed her to a table near the middle of the restaurant. She might as well be on display. Carefully keeping her dress down, she slid into the seat, taking the offered menu. “Can I start you with a drink while you wait?” Sarah asked. “Uh, Sprite please?” “Of course, sweetie. I’ll be right back.” Brandy started fidgeted in the chair. A man at the table next to her glanced over at her. She froze, suddenly very away of the rustling noise coming from under her dress. He couldn’t have possibly heard, but she gripped the sides of her chair with clammy hands, determined to stay still. She gratefully accepted the drink when it was brought to her. “Do you have the time, by any chance?” Sarah eased her phone out of her tight jean shorts and glanced at it. “6:52.” “Thank you.” The paper wrapper for her straw trembled in her shaking hands as she removed it. “First date?” Sarah asked. “Uh, yes,” she stammered. “Well you’ve nothing to be nervous about, you look super cute.” There was no way the older girl recognized her. She was talking to her like she was a middle schooler, not a high school senior. “Thank you,” Brandy said meekly. She guided the straw to her lips, but then hesitated. She’d hoped the bubbles would help calm her nerves, but she remembered that she wouldn’t be able to go to the bathroom. Sighing, she pushed the drink away from her. The bell tinkled again. Brandy’s heart skipped a beat. There he was. The hottest guy in school, the captain of the basketball team. He was smart too, and kind, and very tall and handsome. And he’d asked her out. Of all the girls at their school, he’d wanted to go out with her, Brandy Faraday. And there she was, dressed like a toddler on Easter Sunday, with the diaper to match. Even as her heart swooned for her crush, she wanted to die. “Brandy!” he waved, coming right for her. She gripped the chair tighter so as not to forget herself and get up to greet him. “Hey Tommy!” “Wow, you look stunning.” He started to open his arms, as though going in for a hug. She almost leapt to her feet. It would be worth it, to embrace him, to feel his strong arms around her, to smell him. But when she didn’t get up, he grabbed the chair across the table from her and sat down. “Thank you,” she said, blushing. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” She shook her head. “I’ve only been here a few minutes,” she answered politely, but in her mind she was replaying his previous sentence over and over in her head. “You look stunning.” Maybe he really did like the look Monique had picked for her. Up until his ex had taped and locked her into a diaper, she’d thought she looked quite cute. If she could keep him from finding out about that part, there was still hope for her date. “Have you eaten here before?” “No,” she shook her head. “But I’ve heard good things.” “Oh, it’s fantastic, you have to try their chicken Parmesan.” “I think I will.” Her heart fluttered when he ordered her food for her. She’d always wanted a guy to order for her. Something about it she just found so attractive. From that moment she was entranced by him, allowing herself to relax, even forgetting, momentarily, that under her dress she was trapped in a diaper. She was on her first date, not just her first date with certified dream boat Tommy Crestmoore, but her first date with a boy ever, and it was magical. It wasn’t until she felt that telltale twinge in her bladder that the spell was broken. She stared at the empty glass in her hand with a look of horror. “Do you need a refill?” Before even waiting for a response he had flagged the waitress down. “Hey, could we get refills?” “I’ll be right back,” she blurted, standing up so fast she knocked her chair over. It toppled to the floor with a deafening crash. Brandy stood frozen over it, everyone in the restaurant staring at her. Her heart racing, she began to slowly crouch, reaching tentatively down for the leg of the chair, not bending over in the slightest. “I’ll get it.” Ever the gentleman, Tommy rushed to her aid. She watched in slow motion as he kneeled next to her to pick up the fallen chair, his face inches from her dress and the secret it was barely hiding. He’d sneak a peak. He was an eighteen-year-old boy, out on a date that had been going quite well, of course he would chance a glimpse up his date’s skirt. He wouldn’t even have to try, it was right there! He wouldn’t be able to help but see it! Adrenaline coursed through Brandy’s veins as she prepared to run. Changing schools wouldn’t be enough; she’d have to move out of state to escape the shame. “There you go,” Tommy said, standing back up, righting the chair. “Excuse me!” Brandy pushed by him, holding her dress down with both hands while she power walked to the bathroom. She dashed into the stall and slammed the door shut. “Stupid stupid stupid!” she hissed through clenched teeth. She was shaking. “It’s not your fault. Fucking Monique,” she reminded herself. With trembling fingers she lifted her dress up, for the first time really examining the diaper and locking plastic panties her date’s ex had put her in. The diaper was pure white, save for four blue tapes that held the bulky thing on her. Tentatively, she tried to grab at one of the tapes through the plastic barrier protecting them, but she couldn’t get her nails under it. Hiking her dress high, she tugged at the waistband. The chain had left a deep, red impression on her belly, and even if she hadn’t just had a full meal, no amount of sucking in was going to get the thing down passed her hips. Brandy tested the strength of the plastic itself. Perhaps if she ripped it, she could get the diaper off and empty her bladder, and worry about Monique’s repercussions later. But then she’d have to go back out there with nothing but a shredded pair of clear plastic panties on under her dress. Not that it mattered. Maybe with scissors or a knife she could have gotten through the durable plastic, but with just her fingers in a bathroom stall, she was stuck in them. Brandy sunk onto the toilet seat. Holding it wasn’t an option, as much as she loathed the idea of the alternative. She’d always had a small bladder, and if she didn’t go now, she’d be hopping and dancing around while she was with Tommy. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine she wasn’t wearing a diaper. She even stood back up and pantomimed pulling her panties down before sitting back down, hoping to trick her brain. But even as her bladder ached for release, her brain refused to let her pee in a diaper. “Come on come on come on,” she whispered, conscious of how long she’d been in the bathroom, and what conclusions Tommy’s mind might be jumping to. Surely not what she was actually doing, trying desperately to wet a diaper at eighteen years of age. And then it started. A tiny spurt of pee escaped. The moment it hit the diaper, the thirsty padded growing warm and wet and pressing against her, she tried to stop, to clench down, but it was too late. The floodgates had opened. Brandy wet her diaper. She didn’t have the luxury of processing what just happened. She didn’t have time to try and get used to it. She couldn’t afford to cry like she wanted to. She flushed, out of habit, and got up. Her diaper was doubly impossible to ignore now, forcing her to waddle, each step the warm, wet, swollen padding rubbing against her as she made her way to the sink and washed her hands. She eyes were wet but she hadn’t cried. She’d have no way of touching up her makeup if she did. Taking a deep breath, she walked back out into the restaurant. “Hey, would you like dessert?” Tommy asked as she returned to the table. “No thank you.” She looked at her chair. She didn’t even want to sit back down. “I actually should get going, I didn’t realize how late it was.” “Oh, of course. Let me get the check.” She hated having to bail, and she couldn’t even offer to split the bill since she didn’t have her purse. “Thank you.” “Is everything alright?” “Yes, everything— tonight was wonderful. I had a really good time. I wish I didn’t have to go so soon.” It wasn’t a total lie. He dropped some money on the table. “Do you need a ride home?” “No, thank you. I can walk from here.” “What? No, I’ll give you a ride.” “No, it’s fine.” “Where do you live?” “Not that far…” she lied. It was probably close to five miles, not that she was going home. She was waddling back to Monique’s, which was at least within reasonable walking distance. “I can’t let you do that? What if something happened to you? Let me give you a ride.” “Tommy—” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I insist.” She couldn’t say no to him. “Thank you.” She’d let him take her home, and figure out how to get back to Monique’s later. Like Monique, he opened her car door for her, but she got to sit in the front this time. Brandy carefully climbed in, feeling her wet diaper squish beneath her. She stared out the window while he drove, the comfortable rapport they had in the restaurant replaced by awkward silence. It had been going so well, she’d almost made it work in spite of Monique’s interference, but she was blowing it. “Hey!” Brandy sat bolt upright. “You missed the turn.” “I’m taking a detour,” he said calmly, turning to flash her a smile. “I do really need to get home.” “You can be out a little later.” He flashed his turn signal and took another left, guiding his car onto the twisty, winding road. Brandy knew where that road led. All the kids knew, whether they’d been there or not, and she’d dreamed of coming here with him. In the dark she’d missed the name on the street sign, but it didn’t matter, everyone called it make out point, the road offering a scenic view of the quarry and starry sky, a place to park and do quite a bit more than make out, if the stories everyone gossiped about in the locker rooms were true. She just had to tell him no. He was a nice guy, he’d understand. But the fact that he still wanted to take her there meant she hadn’t blown her chances with him yet. She sat, paralyzed with indecision, while he drove her up the steep, windy roads, slowing to a crawl as the trees cleared, and the car rolled to the edge of a cliff. He put the car in park and turned the engine off. “Tommy, maybe we can come back another—” “Shhhh,” he put his finger to her lips, unbuckling his seat belt and turning his body to face hers. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” It was. It really was. Just not like this. Not in a wet diaper. “You’re very cute.” She felt him unbuckle her own seat belt. One less barrier between them. “I’ve noticed you for awhile.” How long was awhile? Was that why Monique was doing this? Had she noticed her boyfriend checking out the shy, mousey girl? His hand was on her thigh, his face inches from hers. His cologne was intoxicated, and she found herself leaning in. “No, not tonight.” She caught herself, sitting back. “I’m sorry, I want to, I really do.” “I know you do.” His hand was sliding up her thigh. He put his other hand on her shoulder, reaching up, his fingers tracing along her neck before cupping her chin. She wanted him to kiss her, his lips on hers. “I do, I just, I can’t! Not tonight!” “What’s the matter?” His hand drifted higher, his fingers disappearing under the hem of her dress. His touch felt so good, and a carnal part of her wanted him to keep going, even though she knew she couldn’t let him. She grabbed his wrist. “Are you wet?” She froze, her fingers wrapped around his wrist. He hadn’t meant it like that, she told herself. He couldn’t have. Either way, the answer was yes, but she couldn’t let him find out. “No.” Her voice was husky, and she pulled on his wrist, but he didn’t budge. “You don’t sound so sure. Daddy’s going to check for you.” He was stronger than her, his hand traveling inexorably up her thigh. She could feel the pressure of his fingers pressing against her diaper, the wet padding rubbing against her hypersensitive sex. She moaned in spite of herself. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice low. “Your diaper is very wet.” He knew! He knew she was wearing a diaper, and he knew she had wet it. Panicked, Brandy scrambled blindly for the door handle behind her. The interior lights lit up as the door opened, and she fell backwards onto the ground in her haste to exit, her dress flipping up in the tumble, her diaper on full display. It was over. The tears that had been threatening to fall all night finally burst free. Crying, Brandy climbed to her feet and turned to run, it didn’t matter where. Headlights flashed on in front of her, blinding her. She couldn’t stop running, putting her hands up to shield her eyes from the blinding light, and she ran smack into the front of the car that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Brandy sprawled onto the hood of the car. She’d just managed to push herself back up when strong arms grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. “Settle down, baby girl,” Tommy whispered in her ear. He lifted her up off the ground, her legs running in air as she still tried to bolt. “Let go of me!” She squirmed and thrashed, her body still in flight mode. The door opened of the parked car she’d run into, a figure stepping out into the night. Brandy stopped struggling, hanging limp in Tommy’s arms. The figure came into shape, sauntering alongside the car until she stepped into the light. “How was your date, baby girl?” Monique asked. She was wearing a sleek, skintight black dress that hugged her curves. She strutted over on four-inch heels that let her look down upon the diapered girl even as Brandy was held aloft. “What are you doing here?” Brandy asked, giving another halfhearted squirm. “Checking on my little project.” She grabbed the front of Brandy’s wet diaper, squeezing. “And I wanted to meet my boyfriend at make out point.” Brandy’s eyes widened. Suddenly she was squished between them as Monique leaned up, her cheek pressed against Brandy’s as she and Tommy kissed. “Wha— but you two— what?” Brandy stammered. “Oh, you silly baby, you thought we’d broken up?” Monica teased. “But— you did! Everyone knew!” “We did have a little rough patch,” Tommy said, bouncing her in his arms. “We thought we wanted different things,” she said forlornly. “I wanted a little girl,” he added. “And this,” Monique gestured up and down at Brandy’s attire, “isn’t really me. But it turns out we wanted the same thing.” “You were just so cute.” “With your adorable little crush on my man. You were perfect.” Brandy kicked out, her foot connecting with Monique’s hip. “You can’t do this to me!” Tommy yanked her back before setting her back on her feet. Brandy scarcely had time to react before he’s scooped her back up, this time hooking one arm under her the backs of her knees and cradling her in his arms, making her even more helpless, and now, he could look into her eyes when he told her, “We already have.” Monique rubbed her hip, a momentary grimace of pain flashing across her features before her smug smile returned. “It was so easy to get you all dolled up. All I had to tell you is that was what daddy wanted, and you were more than happy to let me dress you. You didn’t even put up a fight when I put you in a diaper.” As she said it, Tommy grabbed Brandy’s butt, squeezing the wet padding. Brandy squirmed, whining and grunting as she tried to break free from his grip. “You’re a little fussy now, but that’s to be expected. It’s late and it’s way past your bedtime.” “Please, just let me go!” she pleaded. They ignored her. “I have just the thing,” Monique said, drawing something from her purse. “Fussy baby girls need their binkies.” A large, pink pacifier dangled from her manicured nails, with two clear plastic straps attached to the sides. A heart shaped lock, just like the ones on her plastic panties, adorned one strap. “No! Please! Donmmphh!” Tommy held her head still while his girlfriend pushed the oversized nipple into the protesting girl’s mouth, turning her pleas into baby talk. “That’s much better.” With a click, the pacifier gag was locked in place. “And don’t you just look adorable, sucking on your paci. I know you wanted to be sucking on something else tonight, but you’re much too little for that,” Monique teased. “That’s for mommy,” Tommy flashed a smile at Monique. She licked her lips. “Let’s get her secured, first.” Brandy struggled with renewed vigor when Tommy started carrying her towards Monique’s car. She balked when Monique opened the back door, revealing the recent addition. An oversized car seat was waiting for her, strapped into the middle seat. Her hesitation lasted only a few second, until Tommy started putting her in the backseat and Monique opened the other side, ready to help secure her. Brandy went into frenzy, kicking and scratching, screaming into the pacifier. Monique grabbed her feet after Brandy managed to kick her again, ripping her shoes off. “I know, you’re grumpy,” Monique chided, downplaying her desperate attempts to escape to a tired baby throwing a tantrum. “You’ll be much more comfortable once we get you strapped into your car seat,” Tommy said, forcing her diapered butt into the elevated contraption. It was big for a car seat, probably designed for a large child, and the high schooler barely fit. Brandy grabbed the front seats and heaved herself forward, trying to crawl away. “You know you’re too little to ride in the front seat,” he said, grabbing her waist and yanking her back, slamming her into the seat. This time, Monique was ready, strapping the harness in place, one belt over each shoulder, one on either side of her waist, and the finishing touch, one pulled up between her legs, pressing into her wet diaper. Brandy immediately tried to undo it, but Tommy grabbed her wrists, holding her hands. “Do you have her mittens?” “Of course.” Monique reached into the front seat and pulled out a pair of pink, thumbless mittens. “Nnnnpphh! Dmmpph!” Brandy screamed, drool spilling down her chin under her pacifier. It was too late. She’d fought for all she was worth, but there were two of them, both of them bigger and stronger than the helpless girl, already caught off guard, shocked, humiliated, and betrayed. Monique got her right hand secured, and then the left. Tommy let go of her wrists, and Brandy immediately reached for the buckle on the five-point harness. Her fingers couldn’t grip the childproof latch through the thick, stiff padding of the mittens. She uttered a guttural scream of frustration into her pacifier. “MMMMMPPPHH!!” “Phew,” Monique brushed the loose strands of hair out of her face. Tommy smiled at her from the other side of the car. “Baby’s aren’t always easy.” “No, they’re not. But this one isn’t too difficult.” Her eyes flicked to the still struggling Brandy. “It’s worth it though.” “Absolutely. She was a good choice.” “Watching you with her, you really earn the title ‘Daddy’.” “You’re the one who got her all dressed and diapered for me, “Mommy’.” Brandy’s head whipped back and forth between the two of them while she still fought a losing battle with the simple clasp that kept her helpless and trapped in the car seat. They each glanced at her, with that same on their faces, before they stood up out of the back seat and shut the doors, and climbed into the front. “I want you now.” “Should we, in front of her?” “She’ll be fine. Here, I have something to distract her.” Monique fished in her purse, pulling out a small vibrator. “I know this is a lot, all at once, but trust me, you’re going to enjoy being our helpless little diapered baby girl.” “We’ll make sure you do,” Tommy said, taking the vibrator from Monique and turned it on. Brandy watched, her eyes as wide as saucers, watching it get closer and closer. She could have closed her legs. She could have tried to bat it away with her mittened hands. But she didn’t, watching it get closer and closer until Tommy pressed it against the strap running between her legs. She could feel the vibrations immediately, buzzing through the wet padding. “See, doesn’t that feel good through your diaper?” Monique asked, snapping her out of her trance. Brandy shook her head, and immediately closed her legs and slammed her hands down, pushing the vibrator away. “You’re still being fussy,” Tommy said, easily pushing past her useless hands, and easing the vibrator under the strap, pinning it to the front of her diaper, right over her clit. In spite of herself, Brandy moaned into her pacifier. “Now, where were we?” Monique climbed across the seats into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well we’re at make out point. The baby is playing with her toy in the back seat. And I’m finding you the most attractive you’ve ever been right now.” “You’ve never been sexier,” Tommy said, kissing her. From her car seat in the back, Brandy watched. It should have been her, making out with Tommy. She kept pawing at her crotch, her eyes riveted to the couple in the front seat, until her genuine attempts to remove the device buzzing away at her padded pussy turned into attempts to push the vibrator harder against her needy clit. Even as engaged in each other’s bodies as they were, they made sure she didn’t feel forgotten. “If you’re a good girl, maybe you can suck on daddy’s special bottle one day too.” She sucked harder on her pacifier, imagining it was Tommy’s cock in her mouth while she watched Monique take him in her mouth. “Would you like to nurse on Mommy’s titties?” Monique asked as Tommy ripped her dress off, licking her full, ample breasts. Their clothes joined Brandy in the backseat, piece by piece, Tommy’s boxers landing at her feet, and Monique’s panties landing on her head, dangling from one of her ponytails. Brandy pushed both hands down between her legs as hard as she could, increasing the sensations as she watching Monique climb on top of Tommy, his dick sliding into her. The car horn blared as her back slammed into the steering wheel, drowning out Brandy’s muffled cries as she came in her diaper.
  11. This is my first story. I am not a writer, editor, English major, in fact did not go past high school. I passed English with a solid C-, and I am usually high and horny when I work on this lol so I apologize now for any grammatical errors, sentence structures, changing tenses, paragraph breaking, etc... Lazy Bum (Day 0&1) Day 0 “Give me your phone.” Kim stated holding out her hand. “What?” I said not understanding why she is asking for my phone right now. “Give me your phone.” She repeated more sternly. “Why?” again not sure why she is asking for my phone. “I am taking it from you. It seems to be a distraction for you in finding a job so I am going to take it from you.” “What, like you’re grounding me from my phone?” “If it helps you to think of it in childish terms, then sure, I’m grounding you from your phone.” She said rolling her eyes, “God you’re such a child.” “No way! That is ridiculous, I’m a grown man, there’s no way I’m being grounded!” She chuckled at me when I said ‘grown man’ “You were only supposed to be here for a short period of time, like maybe a month. It has been almost 5 now. And the only thing you seem to use your phone for anyway is to look at porn and jerk off.” I tried to interject but she continued over me, “I see the crusty tissues in the trash when I get home. Not just one either, but several. I’ve never gone through and counted, because… eww I’m not touching your disgusting mess. So maybe if you didn’t have porn as a distraction, you could find a job and get your own place. Then you can jerk off all over the place whenever you want.” She held out her hand again, looking straight at me with a stern look in her eyes and said “So, give me your phone.” “No,” I said. "This is ridiculous, I’m not giving you my phone just because you told me to.“ I could see her starting to fume, "I am going to make this very simple for you, give me your phone, or get your shit and get out.” “Fine,” I said. “I went to the back room I had been staying in, and packed up my stuff. I didn’t have much, when stuck having to couch surf best to have things that can fit in a couple bags. After ten minutes I had all my things and was heading out the door. She was waiting for me, held out her hand and just said "Key.” I reached in my pocket and handed her back her spare key, and walked out the door with not even a goodbye from either of us. I was still so pissed, and obviously by the look on her face she was too. I got an Oober, but didn’t know where I was going. This wasn’t a planned out thing, so I just went to a bar to have a drink and figure out my next move. I went through my phone to find a place to crash for the night. I sent out a mass text, to anyone on my phone that was in the area “Hey guys, I hate to ask, but would anyone have the room to put me up? Thanks.” I had a drink as the responses began to come in, like “sorry man,” or “wish I had the room,” and that was from the ones that did respond. Desperate trying to figure out what to do, I sent a Fakebook post to reach anyone that I may know saying, “Hey, I hate to ask, but would anyone have the room to put me up? Or if you know someone that has the room. Even a couch would be great. Thanks.” I had another drink and waited for someone to help me out. The responses I was getting back on Fakebook were the same as the texts. It was getting late and no one had come to help me out, so not sure what to do, I decided to find some cheap hotel in the area. I didn’t really have the money for it, but I can put it on my credit card. Besides it is just for one night, by the morning someone should come through for me. I settled in my room and as soon as I kicked off my shoes and laid on the bed, I went to a couple of my favorite porn sites, and went to my favorites on my accounts. I had so many things, usually along the lines of degrading things done to women. Things like bukkake, and pov blowjobs while the guy is verbal humiliating her, gangbangs, and things like that. I would watch bukkake porn and love seeing a woman there covered in cum, while guy after guy releases his load on her, the cum all over her face, on her lips, some seeping in her mouth, dripping from her chin and onto her tits. Seeing a girl like that serving all these men, I would sometime imagine that the girl was Kim and I was the last guy that cums on her face. Or videos of guys dominating women while she services him, from his point of view so I can pretend it is me telling her to get on her knees and to crawl over to me, to undo my pants and start sucking my cock. Calling her a slut, a bitch, a cum hungry little whore. Grabbing her pigtails like handlebars and shoving my dick down her throat, while she gags and takes it. I’d love to do that to Kim, holding my cock down her throat as I cum into her stomach. The amount of times I have cum thinking of doing these things to her. A lot of those tissues she mentioned were from just that. I went through some of these videos on my phone jerking off until I came on my stomach, tired and not really caring I wiped my cum off on the bed sheet and went to sleep. Day 1 In the morning when I woke up I checked my phone and nothing new, just a couple more responses of “best of luck finding something.” Check out isn’t for another 3 hours, so I went back to my porn sites and jerked off to more of my favorite videos. Just like last night after I came and I wiped it off on the sheets. I tried to figure out what to do after check out, I figure I could walk around until something came up. Before check out I jerked off one more time and wiped it on the sheets again. I took my two bags and checked out. I walked around with my bags for a couple hours, I went to a fast food place to get a late lunch off the dollar menu, and had to decide what to do. I could get another hotel room, but I couldn’t really afford to keep getting a room. I didn’t even have the money for the one last night, but hopefully I’ll have the money by the time my credit card bill comes in. No one seems to be coming to my rescue. Maybe Kim has calmed down and will let me come back. Maybe she’s calm enough and will realize how ridiculous it is for her to try and ground me from my phone. But even if she still wants my phone, that’s a small price to pay for a roof over my head. I was humiliated knocking on her door, having to crawl back to her, so when I knocked it ended up being barely audible. I took a deep breath and rang her doorbell. After waiting for a minute she answered the door and said “What do you want?” “Hey Kim, I was wondering if…” I was trying to find the words. “If… use your big boy words, what are you wondering?” “Um… if… I mean… you know… with uh yester… I mean… umm…” The stern look on her face and her mocking tone threw me off and I could only seem to stammer. “You were wondering if you could come back and stay with me?” she said in an almost icy tone. Unable to look her in the eyes anymore, I looked down and said “Yes.” “Are you sorry with how you talked to me?” she asked in a condescending tone. Still looking down I said, “Yes.” “Yes what?” “Yes, I am sorry for how I talked to you.” “Are you going to listen to my rules from now on?” “Yes.” “Yes what? Use your words.” I felt like a little child having to repeat back to her everything, “I am going to listen to your rules from now on.” “Good! Let’s start by you giving me your phone.” She stated in a more relaxed and friendly tone. Prepared for that I gave her my phone, and she opened the door more to let me in. As I passed by her she then exclaimed, “Jesus you smell. Where did you stay last night? Did you even shower? You smell like a cheap whore, sweat, and cum.” I turned slightly red at how she stated it. I didn’t even think of taking a shower at the hotel. In the evening I was so exhausted I just jerked off and went to bed, and in the morning I didn’t even think about it I just jerked off a couple times before checkout. Not caring for a response she said, “Why don’t you go take a shower now.” “Okay,” I said as I was continuing to take my things to the back room. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked going back to her stern voice. Not sure what I did wrong “I was just taking my things to the back room to get my things settled in.” “I told you 'now.’ I didn’t say after you settled in to shower, I said now, so now means exactly that. I don’t want you leaving that nasty stench all over the house. We haven’t really gone over the rules of the house, sense you were only supposed to be here a short time, I never thought I’d have to worry about making them. But for now you need to know the number 1 rule that applies no matter what. What I say goes. Which means you will listen to me and do what I say when I say. There are other rules, but for now this is the only one you should worry about. Is that understood?” I was so taken aback by all of this. I was not expecting her to be like this at all. I didn’t even know she could be so stern, I was a little intimidated, I nodded. “I thought you had learned to use your words.” “Yes, I understand.” “Then why are you still standing here? Set your things down and get your ass in that shower.” I set my things down and went to the bathroom. While I was undressing I saw the door handle jiggle, then Kim knocked on the door. Still in my boxers I said “Yes?” With a little anger in her voice, “Open this door.” I unlocked the door and opened it, standing there in only my boxers. “I don’t like the idea of you being on the other side of a locked door, so from this point on you are not allowed to lock any doors.” She pointed at my boxers and exclaimed, “What is that!?” Looking down I noticed she was point to the cum that had stained on my boxers from earlier. Embarrassed by her pointing this out, my face started feeling warm, I could tell I was turning red, I couldn’t think of how to answer this question. “Is that what I think it is?!” I could feel my face blushing, “You can’t even manage to control yourself enough not to soil your clothes.” I wanted to respond, to defend myself, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that will not make me sound like a pervert. Out of nowhere she asked, “Now, what are the rules so far?” Still trying to deal with her berating me about my cum stained boxers, “Um…” trying to switch gears in my head as quickly as she did to the rules, “they’re uhh…” finally recalling, “what you say goes, and um… I’m not allowed to lock doors.” “Very good! Next time without the stammering, you should know them by heart. And it’s only two right now. Anyway, your clothes are disgusting, put them in here,” as she held out an empty trash bag. Getting a little more used to this new side of her, I grabbed my clothes off the floor and put them in the trash bag. She looked unsatisfied and then looked at my cum stained boxers. Realizing what she was asking, I said “I will leave them on outside the door when I get in the shower.” With a heavy sigh she asked, “Are we already going to have start with the consequences of you breaking rules? I was hoping you could go at least what not even 10 minutes before having to start talking about punishments. I am not going to touch those disgusting things, and I certainly don’t want them touching any part of my home. So off.” Not even a clue as to what she had in mind with 'consequences’ and 'punishments’. Timidly I took off my boxers and as I stood up revealing my cock, she let out an involuntary chuckle. I quickly covered up, blushing even more. "I’m a grower not a shower,” I stated without much conviction. Laughing she says, “I hope so for any of the girls you have been with. Put those things in here,” she said holding out the trash bag. Covering myself with one hand I put my boxers in the trash. “Oh, no need for modesty. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. That wasn’t nice of me. It’s not your fault you have a tiny little thing.” This humiliation was getting to much, first my cum stained boxers, now the size of my cock, all within a minute of each other, I didn’t know what to do. Her being fully clothed and me covering my dignity with my hands, “I’m sure you are the grower,” chuckling again “now don’t cover up.” I slowly moved my hands away standing completely naked in front of her, she looked down again, “that little thing can’t be what an inch, inch and half at most. You’d have to be quite the grower for any woman to look at you seriously. Anyway, I’m going out for a little bit, shouldn’t be more than two hours. After you’re finished with your shower you can watch tv while you wait for me to get back. Now get cleaned up and really scrub that disgusting stench off of you.“ She closed the door and I proceeded to shower. I reflected on everything that just happened in the last 10 minutes. I was expecting her to be a little mad, but I figure it would just be her taking my phone and that would be it. I wasn’t expecting this. I looked down at my cock, thinking, it’s not that small. I mean it is compared to the guys I see in porn, but they are meant to have massive cocks. I’m sure it’s normal size. I saw that she had already tossed my soaps and shampoos. I used her body wash and shampoo, both of which had a feminine scent. I finished my shower dried off, wrapped the towel around my waist and went to get some clean clothes. I went to the front room and didn’t see my bags there, so I went to the back room where I stay and didn’t see them there either. I looked around the house trying to find where she left my clothes, checked the wash as to maybe she washed them all. I was going to text her, but remembered she has my phone. So in just a towel I sat on the couch and watched tv. I was bored and wanted to jerk off. I wish I had my phone. There was a Victoria Secret commercial that played and I opened my towel and started stroking my cock. The commercial ended, so I closed my eyes using the memory of my porn. I was getting lost on thinking of the things I’d love to do to Kim, how she would be on her knees while I throat fucked her, her turning around and to stick my dick in her ass as she rides on it. I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, when I heard the door being unlocked. In a panic I took my hands off of my throbbing member and covered myself up with a towel hoping my load won’t leak out. Kim walked in with grocery bags and shopping bags in hand. "Don’t get up.” she said. “I’m just going to put these things away.” She walked out of the room, as I was going to ask her where my clothes were, but she just walked out not even seeming to notice that I was talking to her. This at least gave my erection a little time to calm down, hopefully she won’t notice it. Not long after she came back with one bag in her hand, she had a very serious look on her face, I was too intimidated to even speak. She walked over to the couch, grabbed the remote, and turned off the tv. She was standing over me, looking down at me, as I was sitting on the couch in only a towel. My erection was quickly going down as she looked so intimidating. I began to stammer out some words to ask about my clothes. But she interrupted me before I could get an intelligible word out. “I’m going to need you to just sit there and listen. I don’t want any interruptions from you. Actually why don’t you just put your thumb in your mouth. As long as your thumb is in your mouth it will remind you to keep quiet. Because you are going to want to interrupt but I don’t want you to until I am done. After I tell you to take your thumb out of your mouth you will then have a chance to speak. If you understand, put your thumb into your mouth.” Perplexed by all of this, but I dare not argue with her I put my thumb in my mouth. “Good!” she exclaimed as if talking to a child, instead of a man… with his thumb in his mouth. “Now that thumb better stay in your mouth and you better not interrupt me. And I know you will want to interrupt me, but be good and don’t make me punish you.” With a pause she continued, “I’m sure you are wondering where your clothes are. They are not here, you can look all around but you will not find them. They are in my storage unit, you can have them back when you move out of here, but until you are ready to do that, they will stay there so don’t even bother asking for them. And no, you will not be walking around here naked. I don’t want to see that tiny thing between your legs. You will wear what I tell you to wear from now on, and that attire is not going to include jeans and t shirt, which seems to be the majority of your clothes.” Listening to this with my thumb in mouth, hearing that she is going to dress me now. I probably seemed like a child for anyone that would be looking in from the outside. “So…” she said reaching into the bag and pulling out a rectangle pink package, actually the package was clear, what was inside was pink, I couldn’t make out what it was, she opened the package pulled out a fluffy, pink, crinkling object that had some childish design like unicorns and princesses, and slowly I started realizing that this was a diaper. But not a baby diaper, and not one they sell at the grocery store for old people. But it was a baby diaper made to fit an adult. I let out an involuntary gasp with a tiny squeal, like a startled little girl. “That’s right, you will be wearing diapers. And before you think of interrupting remember your thumb is in your mouth, and I will not tolerate interruptions. You were the one that actually gave me this idea…” She paused waiting for me to recall giving her this idea. I thought back on what I would have said or done to give her an idea like this. I don’t recall once in the time I have known her even using the word diaper or mentioned babies, when she realized I wasn’t recalling she continued, “when you said that me taking your phone was like me grounding you, it made me think of how childish you have been acting. After that I realized you really are nothing more than an overgrown little child that can’t even keep his boxers dry. So I thought you should dress like a child. After I saw your Fakebook post and the responses people left, I had a feeling you would be crawling back here. I knew you wouldn’t come back to me unless you had no other options. So last night I looked online for some a place that sold just plain white diapers for you instead of just adult pullups, when I came across all these adult diapers with baby style print. I then found that there was a store hidden away in the next town over that sold them. Apparently there are a lot of perverts out there that get off on this kind of thing. I couldn’t believe it, there are so many of these people that are into this stuff that there’s a whole industry that specializes in it. But I guess whatever gets them off. Originally you were just going to be in diapers and maybe a t shirt, but thanks to those perverts there are plenty of clothes for you. It isn’t the largest store but it had so many things. There were so many sections of so many different diapers, clothing, toys, and other paraphernalia. They had this large crib, a changing table, a high chair, even a rocking horse. Apparently you can have it specially delivered to your home. I couldn’t believe that there was enough people into this stuff to create a market for this. The lady that runs the store, Beth, was so helpful too. I told her I was looking to replace all your boxers and clothes with diapers and baby clothes, and she was ecstatic. She thought this was some kind of kinky perverted role play sex thing,” she chuckled at the idea, “as if I would ever let you fuck me with that little thing.” I couldn’t believe she laughed at the idea of us fucking. This was such a blow to my fantasies of her on her knees covered in cum while she begs for me to cum in her mouth. Now it’s being replaced by her laughing at me. I listened to this confused and a little scared, trying to follow along, at some point in all of this I actually started to suck my thumb I was getting so nervous. Diapers, cribs, what is going on here? People into this stuff? I wanted to stop her talking and leave, but I did that yesterday and look at where I am now. But she continued on, “I showed her some of your clothes so she could figure out what size you were, she couldn’t believe how bad they smelt, I was so embarrassed I had to apologize for you. She told me not to worry, and said ‘if a little boy can’t take care of his grown up clothes then he shouldn’t have them.’ Which I couldn’t have said better myself. When she saw the cum stains on your boxers, the diapers made perfect sense to her. Because of how small you are they didn’t have boy style clothes that would fit you. So unfortunately the only clothes that would fit you were in the girls section.” She then pulled out from the shopping bag a white shirt that had a pink pleated skirt attached to it. The shirt had in big pink letters 'LITTLE PRINCESS’. “So here is an adorable little onesie,” she flipped the skirt up showing the snaps at the bottom. “I think it is just precious with the little pink skirt that’s attached to it, and it saying 'Little Princess’ in pink is just darling. I wasn’t originally intending on buying you girl clothes, but now I’m a little happy about it. They did have diapers for boys that fit you, but sense you were going to be a princess Beth thought it would be ideal that your diapers should reflect that, and I couldn’t agree more. I do have more clothes, but don’t worry you’ll see them soon enough. As for now you will be in a diaper and this onesie. So if you are going to stay here you will be wearing this. Your bathroom privileges will be revoked as well, I’ve gone ahead and locked the bathroom doors, so this diaper will be your potty. Though I have no intention of cleaning up any of your shit. Once a day, during a diaper change I wi allow you to sit on the big guirl potty ans shit before I put a new diaper on. There will be no discussions on this, there will be no leeway, don’t even ask if something can be changed, the answer is 'NO’, I’m not budging on any of these things. You do have the option to leave at any time. You will be in your diaper and dressed in whatever attire I choose. It will take me about an hour to get your clothes from storage, and once you leave you are never to return. So make sure you are certain that you want to leave, once I get back and you take your things you are officially banned from here. I don’t care how much you beg and plead, I don’t care if you are living on the streets cold and hungry. So be sure your living situation figured out. I’m sure there are going to be times that you will have an outburst and you will insist that you want your old clothes back. But with the two hour round trip it will give you a chance to calm down and decide if you are really ready to leave. If I get back and you change your mind, I will take the clothes back, but you will be punished for wasting two hours of my day. I’m hoping with you not having your phone and having to be dressed in such a childish way and using diapers it will motivate you to find a job so you can move out of here as quickly as possible. Believe it or not this is for your own good, and I am trying to help you, but I also think this is an appropriate punishment for how you have been acting these past several months. So I will let you take your thumb out of your mouth, and you can ask whatever questions you have. So go ahead take your thumb out,” she said coaxing me to do so. I couldn’t believe everything that she just stated. That was a lot of information to take in. A lot of odd information. But I figured the main points, either wear this ridiculous outfit of a pink diaper and onesies skirt or I’m homeless. Not much of a decision, I’m going to have to do this until I figure out my next move. I removed my thumb and asked, "Will have to wear diapers all the time?” “That’s right, the only time your diaper comes off is for bathes and diaper changes.” “Will I ever be allowed to… um… earn bathroom privileges?” “You mean like potty training?” Her voice perked up at this, and my face turned red, I was going to correct her and say not training, just to use, “I wouldn’t expect something like that in the foreseeable future. But I’m hoping if you’re dressed like this it will encourage you to find a job. But I guess if you end up here for that long and you are a good little girl… then maybe.” “Girl?” I blurted out before realizing. “Well of course, I mean these clothes are from the girl’s section so obviously they are for a girl. So you will be my little girl.” 'Fine, whatever’ I thought to myself, normal had already gone out the window. “What if I get a job interview? I can’t go dressed like a little girl in diapers.” “That’s the way you should be thinking!” She exclaimed with some pride in her voice. “If you get an interview then obviously you couldn’t go dressed like that and expect to get a job. So if that happens you can go dressed appropriate for the job, which also means no diaper. So your reward for having an interview is you can be without diapers for that time,” she finished as if talking to a child. That was a relief, at least she hasn’t gone all the way out of reality and expect me to leave here. I couldn’t think of any more questions, except for a lot of what’s and why’s. After a couple seconds of silence she said, “Well sense you have no more questions, put your thumb back in your mouth, lay down there and let’s get this diaper on you.” She pushed my shoulder down on the couch with one hand and holding the diaper in the other, I didn’t realize it at first I was still shocked with the fact that I’m going to be in a diaper soon. I stayed, still in shock allowing her to move my body. My thumb went back in my mouth, she undid my towel and laughed again, “Hasn’t grown yet I see,” I had no response except to look away. “Aww..” she chuckled, “don’t be bashful.” She raised my legs and I heard the diaper crinkle as she slid it underneath my ass. She pulled out some baby powder from the shopping bag, and sprinkled it all over me. Looking at my pubic hair she said, “Well this is going to have to go away. A baby girl should not have hair there. We’ll take care of it later though.” She began rubbing the powder on me and rubbing my cock. This was not how I ever imagined her touching my cock, I have wanted her to touch my cock for so long, the things I have thought of doing to her. Her on her knees worshiping my cock while I tell her what a little slut she is. Not with me under her control with a soft diaper under my butt and her rubbing powder on it. But even still I was getting excited, I could feel my cock grow. “Someone liking their diaper change she taunted.” It was already fully hard, if she would give me a handjob then maybe it won’t be the worst. I was so close to cumming before she got home. She laughed at my cock again, “Oh honey, you said you were a grower, and you did grow some, but that’s not enough for a woman. Oh my, have you ever measured it? Maybe I should measure it for you so you know.” I didn’t know how much more I could take of her taunting my cock. I could feel tears begin to well up in my eyes, “Oh poor baby, don’t cry, its okay. I won’t measure it, I’ll just tape it up in your diaper. And you can go on believing you’re a big man,” she giggled. This was getting to be too much. She lifted my legs again and rubbed the powder on my butt, then she lowered my butt back down and taped up the diaper. “How cute! You look so precious in this!” She rubbed her hand across the front of the diaper, with the diaper crinkling at her hand’s every movement. She squeezed the crotch of it, chuckling as she felt my hard on. She grabbed the onesie and raised my torso up so I was sitting up on the couch, “hands up” she said and I complied. She pulled the onesie over me and after my arms and head were through it she said “thumb back in your mouth sweetie.” I did as she said. She lifted my butt up and pulled the back of the onesie to the bottom of my diaper and snapped it. “Now stand up.” The skirt hit my bare legs as I stood up and I felt the bulky diaper between my legs. I couldn’t imagine how I looked, wearing a white onesie saying “Little Princess” with a pink pleated skirt which I doubt covered the bulk of the diaper. Pink diapers with little princesses and unicorns on them. And with my thumb in my mouth like a little baby girl. I have never felt so humiliated in my life, a part of me felt like crying. “Well how does it feel? Go ahead and take your thumb out and tell me.” I took out my thumb and I said the only thing I could really think of almost coming to tears, “I feel like a sissy.” She burst out laughing, “You certainly look like one.” She continued laughing. I think that’s even better than you being a baby girl. You are more of a baby sissy. So while you are under my roof you will be my little sissy baby!“ she stated with glee. I just kept quiet. Well why don’t you go sit over there on the floor, I wouldn’t want a sissy baby to fall off the couch and hurt herself.” I sat on the floor as instructed, hearing this new crinkle sound as my butt reached the floor, trying to find some way to sit that didn’t expose my diaper until I realized that the skirt was too small for that. "So let’s go over some new rules. Pay attention" She sat down on a chair looking down at me. “Rule number 3 is diapers are to be worn at all times and you are not allowed to take off your diaper in anyway, and as stated those diapers will be used as their intended purpose. Rule number 4 is you will wear what I tell you to wear, you will not be allowed to change your own clothes or pick out your clothes. Rule 5 you are to address me as Mommy. Rule number 6 you will only be allowed to talk when given permission. Your thumb in your mouth is only to serve as a reminder. And you look more pathetic with it in your mouth. That is it for the new rules. Now thumb out sissy and tell me all the rules so far.” I took my thumb out, “Whatever you says goes, I can’t have doors locked, diapers are to be worn at all times, I will wear what you tell me to wear, I will address you as Mommy, and I will only talk when given permission.” “Good Sissy! Thumb back in.” I did as she said, “Right now I don’t want you walking or standing unless need be, at least for the rest of the day. And no climbing on the furniture right now unless I give you permission, don’t want you falling off and banging that pretty little head of yours.” She reached in the shopping bag again and pulled out a pink binkie with the word princess on it. The binkie was connected to a pink ribbon with a clip on the end. “You can keep this in your mouth so you don’t have to worry about trying to suck your thumb while you are crawling around. Now come with me.” She stuck it in my mouth, and attached the clip to my onesie. She walked and I crawled behind her staring at her ass as she moved, feeling my cock grow in the diaper. She walked to her little home office area, which had a pc. “When I am at work you are permitted to use the computer to work on your resume and find a job sense you won’t have your phone. You can use the phone on the internet to make and receive calls, but you will have to be at the computer for them. There isn’t a voicemail, so it would be in your best interest to stay in here during the workday in case an employer calls.” She moved the mouse to unlock it from sleep mode, and she pulled up the user Baby, “So, you have your own profile on my computer labeled 'Baby’, which due to your suggestion I will change it to 'Sissy’ so there will be no confusion. There is no password, because I can’t trust a sissy baby to remember even the simplest of passwords. But I have set it up so all that you can do is use the phone on it, use Office, and search for a job. I have the parental locks on, so don’t even embarrass yourself by trying to look up porn. You are only allowed in here when I am at work. But we’ll discuss that more tomorrow on Sunday. I just wanted to show it to you now so you can see what you will use sense you will not have your phone until you decide to leave, it is in storage with your clothes. Now come along Sissy, let’s go to the kitchen and get you some food.” Though I wasn’t hungry, I could tell from her level of crazy that saying anything would only bring me pain. I crawled behind her to the kitchen and sat on the kitchen tile. On the kitchen table there were some more shopping bags, no doubt from the same place she got these diapers. I didn’t want to know what was in them, but I knew I was going to find out soon enough. She was rifling through the bags until she found what she was looking for and pulled out a large baby bottle with a pink princess on it and she filled it with water. She handed me the bottle and took my pacifier out, and it dropped hanging by the clip. I took it and stuck the nipple in my mouth. I was relieved to have some water, wasn’t wanting to sucking through a nipple, but I can’t say I am surprised. Somehow in half an hour I went from not even knowing that these things existed to no longer being surprised by what she does next. As soon as the rubber nipple was in my mouth I felt her squeeze my diapered crotch, I jumped a little in surprise. “Relax sissy, I’m just checking your diaper. I know I just put you in this diaper, but I don’t know when you went potty last,” she then squeezed the seat of my diaper, stuck her fingers in my diaper at the crotch feeling around, my cock twitched a little, I don’t think she felt it sense her finger was below it and she didn’t even touch it, “with all of these new and scary things, I want to make sure you just didn’t go.” She squeezed one last time at my crotch and my cock twitched more, and this time I know she felt as she let out a little involuntary giggle. “Now sissy, you know you are supposed to use your diapers for their purposes. I don’t care how long you want to hold it, but you will not be using the potty. But if you need a diaper change, you can get one in one of two ways. The first is you wait for my diaper checks like this just now, which I will give you, some times more frequent than others. But if it gets too uncomfortable, you can always cry for a diaper change. And I mean I want you to cry, not some little whimper, I want a 'wah-wah’ baby cry. You don’t have to have tears, but you better ham it up. ” I continued sucking on my bottle as she went to the fridge and pulled out a couple little jars of baby food. She set them on the table and again went through the bags until she came across a packet of baby utensils. These were the size for a baby, this was not made for an adult that likes baby things, but for babies. She opened it up and washed one of the spoons. “Okay, time to eat, so let’s see what we have here: chicken itty-bitty noodle diner, apple strawberry banana, and pea carrot spinach. Now come over here and sit on this chair.” I crawled over to the kitchen chair and sat down while she went through the bags and produced a large white bib covered in pink hearts. She fastened the bib around my neck and said “perfect.” She took the bottle from my hand, and opened the chicken itty-bitty noodle diner. “Here comes the airplane,” she taunted as she flew the ‘plane around’. “Open the hanger.” I opened my mouth as she fed the spoon in. This was so humiliating, her constantly speaking to me in that baby tone, now feeding me this baby food, which tastes like what it says, but a little off. It wasn’t bad, just a little off. Occasionally she would miss my mouth hitting my nose, cheek, or chin on purpose saying “Opsies!” and giggled while she fed me. Some of the food would drip from my face to my bib and she’d say “What a messy eater, good thing for this bib.” She seemed to be enjoying my humiliation too much. Next came the apple strawberry banana, it sounds like it should taste good, but those three flavors just don’t mix that great. It was tolerable, she is still keeping on with the airplane thing. Why can’t she just feed it to me normally, and why can’t this be over with by now? Even better would be for her to knock this shit off and treat me like an adult, but I dare not do anything even slightly wrong. She may seem ok now, but I can tell she is ready to turn into a total bitch at a moment’s notice. Finally came the pea carrot spinach. She flew the airplane I opened my mouth and as soon as it hit my tongue I cringed in disgust and as I did so the spoon ended up scraping along my cheek. This time it was my fault, “My we have a messy baby,” she laughed. She finished feeding me that disgusting food, I don’t know how I managed to get through it. “All done!” ‘Thank God’ I thought. She set it down to the side, took the bib and wiped my face, scrubbing a little. She put my pacifier back in my mouth, “That should hold you over until din-din. I know a grown person cannot survive on baby food like this. When I eat my food you will have a portion too. Depending on what it is I will be either feeding it to you after I eat, or it’ll be cut up so you can eat it with your hands. But this,” holding up a jar of baby food, “will be your lunch on the weekends. When I’m at work I will leave you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, with the crust cut off.” Kim led me back to the living room, I slowly crawled behind her. She had me lay on the floor as she turned on the tv. She went to Netflicks Kids and put on some cartoon that was rated TV-Y, “stay here and watch cartoons while I clean up and put things away.fa” I stared at the tv while she cleaned up in the kitchen. After a couple minutes she came back with my bottle now filled with juice. She set it next to me on the floor and disappeared into the other rooms. At first I let the bottle lay there, but as I was watching this mindless show I would take the bottle and start sucking on it almost absentmindedly. It was either the bottle or a binkie in my mouth. First wetting After going through several episodes of this cartoon, laying on the floor I started feeling all that juice I drank starting to work it’s way in my bladder. I ignored it at first, and continued watching this cartoon, but the pressure was getting to be too much. Even though I knew the bathroom was off limits, I really didn’t want to use the diaper. Another half-hour later she comes into the living room, turns off the tv and says, “Time for dinner sissy. Come to the table.” I moved to my hands and knees, and I winced a little in pain from bladder. She noticed this and asked, “What’s wrong, did you hurt yourself?” I shook my head no and crawled towards the table, she saw how slow I was moving as I was desperately trying to hold my bladder, “Hurry up sissy, you don’t want your dinner to get cold do you?” As I sped up I couldn’t hold it anymore and my bladder released. I froze suddenly shocked and in horror by this. “What’s wrong?” She asked looking at the horror in my face, embarrassed I dropped my head down staring at the floor trying to hide myself in anyway. “Are you wetting your diaper?” She asked with glee in her voice. I could feel tears build in my eyes. I couldn’t even help it, I tried to stifle them back, but I have never experienced anything close to as humiliating as this. She came over to me and put her hand on my diapered crotch and felt the diaper as it expanded and heated up with my piss. Still frozen on my hands and knees with her hand on my crotch as the diaper is filling she says, “That’s it baby, fill your diaper like a good little sissy baby.” Her saying that was the final thing until I broke and tears started falling down my face. I finally finished pissing in the diaper, and I could feel the warm liquid squishing around inside, the diaper felt heavy as it hung between my legs. My inner thighs were warm from the diaper. With tears streaming down my face, she asked “What’s wrong? Is your wet diaper uncomfortable.” I right now could care less about how the diaper feels, I can’t believe I have been reduced to even wearing a diaper, but to actually use it, and having her witness it and mock me made everything so much worse. The binkie fell out of my mouth as I was crying. “Well sissy, remember what you have to do for a diaper change.” I couldn’t even think of what she was talking about with everything else. If you want a diaper change I want you to cry like a baby for it.” I don’t know what she’s talking about. I’m already crying, what else could she want. “Right now baby, you’re trying to keep yourself from crying because you think that you are a man, despite all the evidence to the contrary. What man wears a diaper when he doesn’t have to, what man wears girls clothes, and what man uses their diaper.” Crying more, but still trying to fight them back, I wanted to say something and argue, but she seemed to know what they were already. “Right now you’re probably thinking that you didn’t have a choice that I made you. You did have a choice, it was either that or the streets. You might think that is a valid enough excuse to keep your ‘man card’, but what man would have allowed himself to even be put in this situation? A lot of people fall on hard times, but instead of getting off your ass and doing something about it, you’ve just hopped couches until you were left with nowhere else to go. A real man wouldn’t have let things get to that. Make that a real adult would not have, but that’s why you’re in diapers. Now baby if you want a change, I want to hear you cry like a baby, I want to hear your ‘wah’s’. With all of this, that was not hard to do, and it was exhausting trying to hold back these tears. With tears starting to stream down my face faster I slowly built a wailing “waaaaaaAAAAAHHHHH!!!” And I bawled my eyes out as I was screaming. How could I have let things get to this? “That’s it,” she said and I cried more with embarrassment. She had me lay on my back and grabbed a fresh diaper, some wipes, and powder. “Let’s get you out of this diaper now.” She said as she unsnapped the onesie and lifted it up so that none of the pee from the diaper will get on it. I am on my back crying as she untapes the diaper and pulls it down exposing my dick, I can feel the cool air hit my wet diapered area. I am hiding my face under behind my hands. She lifted my legs up and took the wet diaper and rolled it up. She took out some wipes, and cleaned the entire area. My cock didn’t even care that it was getting attention this was so humiliating. She lifted my legs again and slid a fresh diaper underneath, powdered me and taped the diaper on. She pulled the onesie down and snapped it back. “Ok, let’s feed you dinner.” I rolled over onto my hands and knees, tears still streaming down my face. I crawled my way to the kitchen and sat on the chair as I had earlier today. Kim placed the bib on me, with some of the remnants of my lunch still on there. She grabbed a plate of chicken and broccoli all cut up into small pieces. She proceeded to feed me as she did in the afternoon, fortunately it was messy like the baby food, and she was able to get every bite in my mouth. As humiliating as it was, I was happy to be eating real food, even if it is her feeding it to me. After which she cleaned off my face even though it wasn’t dirty. She put the binkie back in my mouth and told me to go back to the living room. I crawled to the living room, listening to the crinkling of the diaper with every movement. I sat on the floor criss-crossed with my thick puffy diaper between my legs. She walked in the living room carrying a small variety of baby toys. She placed them on the floor in front of me, “play with these for now.” She sat on the couch and picked up a book and started reading. She was reading something off the bestsellers list, it didn’t look that interesting to me. I didn’t know what to do with the toys in front of me. I was sitting on the floor “playing” with the toys. Really I was just moving them around, I didn’t know what she was wanting. “Time for bed sweetie.” I looked at the clock and it was only 8 o’clock. Seriously? Who goes to bed at 8? Not like any it matters anymore. Wasn’t like I was actually doing anything entertaining. She walked down the hall to the back where my room was. I followed behind crawling. When I got in the room, it looked the same as it did yesterday, before all of this, except for the couple bags from that weird store that has all of this adult baby stuff. She pulled the futon down to a bed. “You’re still going to be sleeping in here, and still on the futon. Do you need a change?” She asked as she squeezed the back of my diaper and stuck two of her fingers in, feeling for her answer. “Still dry. So we don’t need to worry about changing you before bed. But we do need to put you in your bedtime clothes.” She went through one of the bags and pulled out this little pink babydoll dress. “You are going to look so cute in this.” She said with a little bit of sincerity mixed in with the mocking tone of her voice. She unbuttoned the crotch of the onesie and began to lift it up. “Arms up,” she said and I did as such, as she removed the skirt onesie from me. Leaving my arms up she slid the babydoll dress over me. I felt the dress flow down, and even sitting on the floor the dress barely reached the floor. “Stand up sissy,” I did as she asked, and she adjusted a couple things and took a step back to see how I looked. The dress was so short, it came down about half to my diaper, so that most of it was in perfect view. “You look so precious,” she said in admiration, “this outfit really does look…” She paused trying to find the word that would sum up how she saw me. “Appropriate.” She laughed, “this outfit really does look appropriate for you.” I don’t know why she feels the need to embarrass me more than I already am. Isn’t it enough that I’m wearing diapers, crawling around like a baby, sucking on a binkie, and wearing girly clothes? Does she really need to make it worse with this mockery and how I look appropriate like this. Like this is how I always should have been dressed. Already defeated for the day, I was just going to take it and hope that she cannot tell how much this is bothering me. “Now crawl into bed.” As I did she gave my butt a quick slap. Not a spanking, but how a guy would slap a girls ass. “Just couldn’t resist with that fluffy little butt there.” I shook my head and laid down. She pulled from the bag a stuffed pink giraffe, and handed it to me. Knowing what she wanted I grabbed it and held it in my arms. She pulled out a night light, plugged it in, and turned out the lights. The night light projected stars onto the ceiling and they slowly moved around. She grabbed a blanket out of the bag as well and came and tucked me in. She set my bottle full of water in the bed next to me. “Now baby, you are going to stay in this bed until I come back in the morning. If you’re thirsty I brought you your baba, and if you need to go potty, well you should know the answer to that. I know it seems early, but this is the normal bedtime for a baby, besides you didn’t get a nap in, and it was quite a lot for you today. Tomorrow though, we will decorate this room a little bit. Nothing crazy, with all of this you should be out of here in month, but some posters and things like that. Something to remind you why you need to find a new place. Now sleep tight. No leaving the bed for any reason, or there will be hell to pay. There are no bars on here like a crib, so I will have to trust you a little, don’t make me regret it. Sleep well.” She got up and as she was closing the door she said “Night sissy.” I heard the click, and it was just me in the room, wearing a diaper, a dress, holding a stuffed giraffe, and sucking on a binkie. I’m sure she is finding all of this amusing. I could hear the tv on in the other room faintly. I couldn’t make out anything, except it was a comedy from the laugh track. I stared up at the stars as they moved around the ceiling almost hypnotically. My brain was trying to process the last 8 hours, and it wasn’t making sense. My eyes were falling heavy, I was so exhausted from it all, that drifting into sleep seemed to be no problem. I awoke sometime later needing to use the bathroom. I didn’t know what time it was, there wasn’t a clock in the room. When I awoke I had completely forgotten the events of earlier. I got out of bed to go to the bathroom, when I heard the crinkle and I felt the bulk in between my legs. Immediately my brain snapped awake and the memories of earlier flooded back in. I was standing up in a diaper and pink dress close to the door. Remembering the last thing I was told before going to sleep, I quickly got back in bed and under the covers. The tv was off so she should be in bed, and didn’t hear me moving around. I laid in bed trying to get back to sleep, but my bladder was not allowing it. I knew I was going to have to use my diaper, but I didn’t want to have to wait in a wet diaper until she woke up. I laid in bed trying to keep my mind off of it, but the pressure was already pretty high when I woke up. I was able to hold it for awhile to, I was trying to take my mind off of it, but it was almost impossible to think of anything else. I’m not sure how much time past, eventually the pain was too much and I decided to just give in and wet myself. I was laying on my back and tried to relax and pee, but the odd thing is, nothing came out. The pressure was still painful, but for some reason I couldn’t get myself to pee. I rolled onto my stomach and tried to let go there, and still couldn’t. I don’t know why, so like before I found myself on my hands and knees and I was able to release. I could hear the stream, if anyone was in the room they’d be able to hear it. It felt so good having that pressure finally be released, I could feel tingling from it. I finally finished and the diaper was soaked. I could feel how much heavier the diaper was as it hung down much lower. At least this time I had some privacy and no one’s hand on the diaper as I was filling it up. I stayed on my hands and knees not sure what to do. I’m sure if Kim were to walk in she would be delighted at what she would see. Me on my hands and knees in little pink babydoll dress, wearing a pink diaper that is obviously soaked. I wasn’t sure what to do, except wait. Hopefully Kim will be up in an hour or two, and I can get out of this soaked diaper.
  12. Disclaimer: There will be some difficult subjects such as violence, brief mention of drugs/alcohol and also some strong language used. A/N: Hello everyone! This will be the last part of Willa's series but I do plan to continue telling the other character's stories! Just to make something clear, the story is starting two years before Willa goes to Henderson and will be told from the perspective of her brother and her. However with the first chapter, it's going through the years showing the events that shaped her childhood and lead her to all the problems she had before she went to Henderson. I hope you enjoy! ooOoo Chapter 1: Ten Years Ago She wet herself. That was the first thing she noticed. She hadn’t wet herself since she was about five years old. She was ten now. Ten year olds did not pee in their beds. The doctors said she was in shock. They said that it was completely normal but watching your parents be murdered was not normal. Nothing about the situation was normal. She remembered her parents were in the living room watching a movie when they broke in. The living room was right next to the front door and they should’ve heard the door open but for some reason they didn’t. Upstairs, she was supposed to be asleep but she’d just gotten a new ipad (they wouldn’t get her a phone) and could finally text her friends and a cute boy had asked for her number so she was waiting up for him. But if he did text, she never saw. It had already begun. She first heard her father shout. Her dad was a calm person. Always mellow, not one to get easily triggered. Standing at six feet, he was a big guy and most people found him intimidating upon the first meeting but their fear always quickly disappeared. Willa remembered jumping out of bed and racing into the hall with the tablet in hand. Standing at the top of the stairs, just out of view, she peeked around the corner. Her dad’s hands were up. There were two men. They shot him first and he fell to the ground. Next was her mother, she didn’t stand a chance. The men rushed from the house out the open door. It had been less than five minutes. Less than five minutes and her parents were dead. Less than five minutes and her entire life had changed. That’s what she told the police officers when they spoke to her at the hospital. She didn’t feel sad. She didn’t really feel anything, the words just poured from her mouth. Willa squeezed her hands into fists and out. In and out. They were dry, clean. The blood had been washed away. She leaned back against the pillow, slightly shivering, The paper hospital gown was not warm at all. She sat stiff straight, her heart pounded against her chest. The sound of blood rushed through her ears. That’s when she felt the wetness between her legs. The police continued to ask her questions and she continued to pee. The officers realized what had happened. No more questions were asked. ooOoo Six Years Ago It was what every fourteen year old girl dreamed of. Their first date. She squealed… yes, squealed when Andre asked her to be his date to the eighth grade dance. Out of all the girls in the school, he asked her. Mister Popular wanted to go out with well… not so Miss Popular. She was what you’d call a wallflower. Sitting at the back of class, her hand raised yet no one saw. Pressed against the wall, someone bumped into her and her books fell to the ground. Yet no one seemed to notice. If she disappeared, no one would know. She was unmemorable. Plain. Ordinary. So why would Andrew Crawford ask her to semi? It didn’t make sense. She had a bad feeling about it but still said yes. She wanted to hope that the feeling was wrong. She had wanted to feel pretty for once. But now she hid behind the school, sucking on the tip of her thumb as mascara streamed down her face mixed in with salty tears. She slid down the wall to the ground, her chest heaved up and down. Never again, she promised herself. Never again, would she say yes to a boy. She was a fool to think Andre Crawford actually liked her. He’d stood her up, arriving with Shelby Hennings instead. Everyone was in on it. The invisible girl getting asked by the pretty boy. Now that was a comical sight. It was all a bet to see if she’d actually say yes. They called her a baby for crying and maybe she was. Why else would she be sucking on her thumb? Boys sucked. Middle school sucked. Her entire life sucked. She’d even straightened her thick curly black hair for tonight and went shopping at the cute new boutique downtown. She hadn't been dress shopping since her mother died and so she picked out what the shop owner suggested. It was a mustard yellow knee length dress. The color went best with her caramel skin and she’d gotten matching pumps. She spent her entire monthly allowance on that night. It was supposed to be magical. It signified a start of a brand new life. A better one than she was living right now. Living with her uncle was fine was fine. He left her mostly alone and she managed alright and her brother Adrian attended Washington State University and was only home on the holidays. Should she call her uncle to pick her up? No. That was too embarrassing. She’d have to walk home. The likelihood of getting kidnapped was high but it was better than facing the truth of her uncle’s words. “He’s using you.” he had said just a few hours ago but she hadn't believe him. Now, she sat on the ground, outside the school, sucking her thumb and painfully alone. Her mother would’ve known what to do. She knew everything. ooOoo Two years ago “Y-you’re kicking me out?” she stammered. It had only been two days since she graduated high school. Two fucking days. Her uncle had already cleaned all her stuff out of his apartment. They sat in trash bags by the front door. It’s not like she was surprised. He had never wanted her or her brother in the first place. He fed them when needed. Spoke to them when needed but other than that left them alone. She doesn’t even think that he noticed when her brother moved out. “You’re eighteen years old. You have a job and are going to college in a few months. I’m sure you can figure something out, Willow-” “My name is Willa!” she snapped. “And if you had paid attention or even bothered to show up to my graduation then you’d know that I didn’t apply to schools and I was fired from the restaurant.” He scoffed, rolling his brown eyes and ran his hand through his grey hair. He had a beer belly and always seemed to wear the same grease stained shirt and pants. The apartment reeked of stale beer and left over pizza. She was desperate to get out of there but not now. Not like this. “Well, tough luck. I’m fucking broke and if you stay, we’ll both have no place to live. Besides, I've dealt with your strangeness for long enough.” She went silent. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. “You didn’t think I knew about your little diaper obsession? Why the fuck would a grown adult hide diapers in their drawer, hmm?” Her lips wobbled. She’d kept them securely hidden away where no one would find them but of course he’d go through her room. He was a cruel man. If he wasn’t drinking then he was doing drugs. There was a reason her parents kept her and her brother away from him growing up. And besides, they weren’t diapers. They were pull ups. She… she still peed in her pants at night. That problem had never been fixed but had managed to keep it a secret the past eight years. Besides, It was simply just a precaution. It’s not like she wore them outside her room. “Call a friend or something or your brother. Andrew, yeah. Andrew will take you in. Just don’t come back here.” Adrian! Her mind hissed. His name was Adrian. Her older brother by five years. Her protector who hadn’t been around lately. Her everything. He’d take her in. He had to. She had no friends because she wouldn’t let herself get close to others. The semi formal still played in her mind every day as a reminder not to trust anyone. Now, she couldn’t even trust her uncle. “Fuck you!” she spat as she dragged the two black bags out the door. She made it halfway down the street and around the corner before she allowed herself to break down. It was as if she had been hit by a moving train and the pain didn’t start to sink in until later. She was freakin homeless. At eighteen years old. No matter how much she wanted to go to her brother, she couldn’t. He and his girlfriend lived together and he had just gotten some new fancy job with the state department that was top secret. He literally couldn’t tell anyone about it and they’d gifted him with a brand new apartment and car in the upscale neighborhood. She didn’t want to go and get in his way because wherever she went, trouble followed. But it wouldn’t hurt to stay at a homeless shelter for a few days, would it? She’d have a place to sleep at least for tonight and then tomorrow she’d figure else something out. ooOoo “I’m sorry but we’re at capacity.” Those words were starting to sound like a broken record. It was her third shelter she’d been turned away from. Perhaps, she could beg her uncle to take her back. At least there, she had some warmth and a roof over her head. She refused to stay on the streets. “Are you ok?” Her head shot up. A tall blonde woman was talking to her, a well dressed one at that. She didn’t belong in this neighborhood that much was obvious. Sketchy people lived here. Poor people lived here. “I don’t mean to intrude but you’ve seemed to um… wet your pants.” A gasp escaped her lips as she looked down at the rapidly growing stain around her crotch. Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. She raised her leg, about to stomp her foot, but stopped herself at the last moment. Her chest heaved up and down. She bit down on her bottom lip, wide eyes filled with tears. This had never happened before in the day. It had never happened in public before. How could she not have felt it? Willa was prepared for the ridicule. The laughter. But none came. Instead, the woman handed her her sweater. “Tie this around your waist and cover up the stain. Do you have anywhere to stay?” she eyed her trash bags in pity. Timidly, the young girl shook her head side to side. “My name is Vera James. I can help you if you wish. I’ve worked with many, kids, such as yourself with similar problems-” “It was a one time thing and I don’t have a problem,” her voice hardened. The lady pursed her lips, continuing after the interruption. “Everyone has accidents.” she said matter of factly, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before and It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I live in Henderson, you may not have heard of the town, it’s a little outside of the city. I foster at risk youth and troubled teens-” “I’m fine,” her voice rose before she could let the woman continue. Her mother had always warned her about stranger danger. Just because she was nice and seemed to care, did not mean she was not dangerous. Besides, she’d never heard of this Henderson place and if it was so great, what was she doing here? “I’m, um, I’m going to stay with my brother.” she made up an excuse. The woman didn’t believe her. “I was actually on my way there right now.” she said. “Now, if you’d excuse me.” ooOoo A/N: I hope you've all enjoyed the first chapter! There wasn't a ton of ageplay in the first chapter but trust me, it's just getting started! I've actually already started writing the second chapter and so that should be posted shortly!
  13. Disclaimer: The story contains mentions of abuse if you are uncomfortable with that I suggest you don't read. ooOoo Chapter 1: The orphanage was overcrowded and chaotic. It was a small building, more a house, in a decent neighborhood. Marina and Christian hadn’t known what to expect when they pulled into the driveway. In front of the white two-story house was a sign that said, Brighter Horizons Orphanage. There was a large wrap-around porch and the garden in the front yard was only half alive and grass overgrown. It was known that the orphanages were terribly underfunded. The government tended to give all their money to the large hospitals leaving nothing for anyone else. It was a part of Christian Tischner’s goal to make sure everyone could afford the same opportunities. No littles should have to suffer. No workers should be stressed or overworked. But that was often the case with the underpaid staff. When the couple got the phone call a week ago, they were taken aback. It was from Marsha Mercer, a woman they hadn’t heard from in many years. She was their designated social worker. When you adopt your first little, it’s the law that you have surprise home checks every three months for up to a year to ensure that the little is being well taken care of. However, because it had been so long since they had a little, Marsha decided to check in, just to make sure everything was going ok. Their first thought was of Willa, worried something had happened, and she was going to be taken away. That’s what those phone calls usually led to. Their fears, however, were quickly squashed as Marsha explained the situation. A little by the name of Olive May was in need of fostering. She had been the third girl at Little Beginnings Hospital in the Newborn Ward with Lulu and Willa. The story was devastating. A friend of Astrid Reichner wanted to adopt her early. The girl was a master at manipulation and had everyone convinced that she had fully regressed. She was released into the woman’s custody but her new mommy quickly learned that she was not the perfect angel she portrayed. For three years she was abused physically and mentally. Her mommy could not afford to send her back to the hospital so she tried to force her into little space. It did not work and she’s now stuck between a 6-month-old to three years old, headspace, often fluctuating between them. Olive May was aware enough to know that she shouldn’t be in diapers and a onesie and that he was actually an adult. That proved a huge problem because little’s like those, if escaped, could reveal all of their secrets. Her social worker never noticed the signs of abuse. She was overworked, taking on hundreds of cases that most of the time she’d forget to check in. When she was rescued, she spent a month at SunnySide Hospital but the doctors determined that too much damage had been done and it would be virtually impossible to regress her to a set age. There was nothing more they could do for her. She was sent to Bright Horizons Orphanage but nobody wanted to adopt or foster her. She tended to lean towards violence when upset and nobody wanted a little that wasn’t fully regressed. The orphanage was weeks away from sending her to, Henderson’s Psychiatric Hospital for Littles where she’d most likely spend the rest of her life. When Marsha heard of the situation she immediately intervened. She knew that wasn’t what she needed and if they could just find a loving family to take her in, perhaps she could heal. Marsha wanted the Tischners to be that family. They were well off, loved by everyone, and Christian was a miracle worker when it came to littles. But the couple was wary at first. They wanted to help her but it sounded as if she was too late to be saved. They also had to think about Willa. She was their full-time responsibility and while they were pretty certain that she would never fall out of her headspace, they didn’t want to take the chance. Marsha remained optimistic though and wholeheartedly believed she could still be helped. The Tischners didn’t say no right away and slept on the decision for a few days before ultimately deciding they’d take her on. No little should have to suffer. They made a promise to each other that they wouldn’t let the girl’s care get in the way of their little Willa. They’d make sure Willa knew that she was still loved. They just would have a new family member now. She’d have a big sister. They sat in an office right off the front door. The sound of crying sounded from one end of the house and laughter from another. Just from their brief moment in the main room when they first entered, they were shocked. Littles ranging from all ages were crowded in several rooms. There were about forty littles in total that they had seen. The diapers were cheap and the clothes were obviously from second-hand stores. The toys they played with were falling apart. There was the strongest smell of dirty diapers and Marina couldn’t help but cover her nose. The house had definitely seen better days. It looked moments away from falling apart. They had known that orphanages were bad but they hadn’t expected this. Nobody wanted to end up in one. Littles who were abused, abandoned, or caregivers that had died were brought to places like this. The hospitals were only for the injured and for those who needed to be regressed which left everyone else in the dust. Most people didn’t like adopting from the orphanages because there was always something wrong with the littles. Most preferred the hospitals because they were all shiny, new, and well behaved. The stigma and bias against orphanage littles and hospital littles was a sad reality. Five minutes later a stern-looking woman entered the office. She had hard brown eyes, blonde hair cut into a bob cut, and pale skin. She was dressed for a day at the office instead of in a house full of littles. She wore a white blouse (which had somehow managed to stay clean) and blue jeans. “Thank you for your patience,” she said with the slightest English accent. The woman reached over to shake their hands as she sat down behind the desk. “My name is Anne Marie Whitmore. I’m the owner of Brighter Horizons. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” “The pleasure is ours,” Christian replied. Mrs. Whitmore curtly nodded her head, sliding over a vanilla folder with papers inside. She was not one for small talk. They jumped right into business. “I’m not going to lie. I was surprised to hear that you were interested in fostering. I’m aware of your accomplishments and how charitable you’ve been in the past but fostering a little-- especially this little is a huge responsibility.” It sounded as if she were doubting their capabilities. Of course, they knew that they had their skeptics. Some were determined to paint them in a negative light for every single thing they did, such as donating to charities and exposing Little Beginnings Hospital. Some believed that they had done it just to increase their fame, claiming they had, Caregiver Savior Complex: caregiver’s feeling the need to help sick and injured littles when it benefited them in some way. Of course, that wasn’t true but it still hurt that people thought that. “I’m aware that Ms. Mercer has alerted you to Olive May’s issues but inside the folder is a more formal and detailed report.” They opened it up and to say it wasn’t slightly overwhelming would be a lie. Christian was trained in caring for abused littles and had worked with them before but this was obviously going to be a whole new experience. The first page read: Babygirl, Olive May Sex: F DOB: 9/27/2003 Previous Name: Jessica Flannery Demographics Contact Information: Address: 42 Hickory Street, Brighter Horizons Orphanage, Henderson, WA, Email: Brighterhorizons@littlespace.net Phone: 92-334-1995 Little Space: Six months old to three years old Biological Age: 21 years old Regression Status: Incomplete Height: 5ft 1in Weight: 95lbs Nationality: Irish Dual Citizenship: United States Race: White Ethnic Group: Irish Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Blue Health Issues Chronic Constipation, PTSD, Anxiety, Anger issues, Malnourishment, Dehydration, Vitamin Deficiencies, Anemia, Muscle Atrophy, Selective Muteness, Claustrophobia: fear of small spaces, Nyctophobia: fear of the dark “As you can see her file is over twenty pages long,” said Mrs. Whitmore. “That’s the reason she’s listed as a high priority little. We will not let just anyone foster her.” The pages went on and on, going into more detail about her treatments, medicines, behaviors, etc. It would take a whole week to just read through every single detail. “What did the woman do to her?” Marina gulped with tears in her eyes. She’d heard these stories time and time again when working with patients but this hit different. It was a caregiver who hurt their little. Never in a million years would she ever lay a hand on Willa. The Tischners didn’t believe in corporal punishment. Not that they ever needed to punish her but if they did, they’d simply take away her plushie. That made her upset enough. “The details of her rescue and past living conditions are all in the folder.” she sighed, sadness hinted in her voice. “The trauma she’s been through has left her unable to communicate effectively. She’s constantly angry and fights against the regression. If she feels herself start to slip then she’ll begin hitting and scratching herself. We clipped her nails all the way down and placed her hands in mitts. The only effective punishments are time outs when she’s in an old enough headspace and when she is a younger, we take away her plushie--” “She has a favorite plushie?” he interrupted, surprised. If a little was having difficult regressing, usually the first things doctors did was give them a plushie. It always seemed to do the trick, no one knew why though. “Yes,” she nodded her head. “It’s a stuffed elephant and it’s attached to her hip at all times. She doesn’t let anyone else touch the thing.” That was a good sign. Usually if a little became attached to a plushie, they’d quickly fall into their little space but something was obviously blocking that from happening. She continued to tell them about her, the situation sounding more dire as she went on. Marina was starting to wonder if they were the right people for this job. But she knew they had to do it. “It’s not too late to back out, if you’re having second thoughts,” Mrs. Whitmore stared right at her as if sensing her thoughts. They shared a glance, grasping each other’s hand and said, “we’d like to continue with the fostering process. You’re not going to scare us off.” Her lips pursed and her brown eyes assessed them for a moment before saying, “very well. I believe it’s time to meet Miss Olive May.” ooOoo Author Notes: Hey everyone! This is part 2 of Willa’s story. As you can see a new character was introduced, some may remember a brief mention of her from part 1. You’ll see more of Willa in the other chapters and it will be heavily focused on the both of them. Hope you enjoy!
  14. PROLOGUE Hello everyone, this story may be very similar to one you have seen before because it is. About 15 years ago, a person by the name of Jilly Poo started the story “New Girl in School”, the story was last worked on a few years ago and has seemed to have died since. I am in the process of rewriting the story with some changes to better fit the current era. This story is 100% fiction(the only thing real about this story is the city and state), if you have any ideas or changes that should be made, feel free to PM me. I apologize, for any grammatical errors as well as for the slow start. Hope you all enjoy! CHAPTER 1: Going to School My name is Natalie Ross, I am currently 14 years old, and just moved to Oregon, Wisconsin from a small town in North Carolina called Lincolnton where I am about to start my freshman year of high school. I am fairly short for my age, I am 4 foot 11, everyone mistakes my age and thinks that I am still in elementary school. *Dream fades in*It feels so real, it is currently the 4th of September, 2018, my first day at my new school, my first day in high school. I am walking down the hallway and I see this cute guy and he ends up asking me to the dance. I ended up saying yes. *Dream fades out* “Natalie, it’s time to get up and get ready for school!” yells my mother. I am excited yet nervous, it is my first day as a high schooler in my new school. I jump in the shower all excited and I am right out in 5 minutes. I don’t even take the time to get dressed. Once I am dressed, I rush downstairs to see what my mom made me for breakfast. “Yum!! Bacon, eggs and pancakes! My favorite!” I say. “You better hurry up and eat before your bus comes” my mother says. I hurry up and eat my food and didn’t even ask for seconds. Once I am done eating, I realize that I am almost late for my bus. I hurry up and grab my backpack, which contains all my items that I need for school, and head out to the bus stop to wait for the bus. Within 5 minutes of arriving at the bus stop, the bus comes. As I get on the bus, I plug my headphones into my iPhone 8 and slowly make my way to the back of the bus to avoid anyone due to being nervous about my first day at school. The bus is ride is a nice 15-minute ride, which gave me plenty of time to listen to music and calm my mind. After the 15-minute ride, I arrived at Oregon High School, which is medium size, but it is so much bigger than my old school in North Carolina. As I walk into the school, I am overwhelmed at the size difference of the school compared to my old school. I glance down at my schedule to see where my locker is. I manage to find my locker where I am greeted by a girl, which is known by many people at the school by the name of Jennifer Robinson. “Umm… Excuse me…” I say shyly, “I believe you are at my locker”. Jennifer laughs and says, “Your locker? Are you even old enough to be in high school? You look like you’re 5 years old”. Before I can even retort back, I hear “Hey! Leave her alone!”. Once Jennifer heard that, she got all mad and walked away. “Hi, my name is Abby, I am a junior here at Oregon, I take it you’re new?” Says Abby. “Yes, I am, I actually just moved here from North Carolina. I am a freshman” I reply. “If you need help with anything, I can help show you to your first class once you are done putting your things back in your locker” Abby says. “That would be great!” I reply. After I drop my backpack off in my locker, Abby shows me around the school and takes me to my first class: Physical Science.
  15. Long post.....sorry! I’d normally start the thread with an “advice please” request but I think most people will listen (read) what other people advise but generally do what they want to do anyway. So, it would be great to hear your opinions especially if you have been through something similar with a partner. A couple of background things first, I would say I’m predominantly a DL and as my board name suggests I like to have someone take control, force me into nappies and make me use them. I have had three long term partners join in with my kink with varying degrees of success. I have always enjoyed the thought of having a strong woman take charge and she’d decide to dress me in diapers for her ‘pleasure’ My current G/F knew all about my kink prior to us getting together and in the early years, when we first lived together, did her best to join in with my fantasies. Over time this has dropped off massively and these days, when I do wear (about once a fortnight) I tend to dress and change myself. This then appears to put a strain on the relationship, whilst she never openly complains about me putting on a nappy, she goes very cold, which in turn makes me distance myself from her and the amount of time we would normally spend together lessens. Further info and question. We have a good sex life (I think) although that again has slowed down due to our age and privacy issues. (We live in an old semi detached farm workers cottage and the walls are paper thin) During our intimate time my G/F prefers to take a passive role, she likes me to dominate, she really enjoys light bondage and for me to be in charge of her orgasms, verbally telling her when she can cum. She loves to be told she’s a “good girl” when she climaxes and does what she’s told to do. Her natural default is to prefer to be under control rather than in control. I have the advantage of being able to switch between the two which I think she struggles with. It has occurred to me that maybe her drop off with my DL kink is because she’d like her type of involvement to change. Recently I have been toying with the idea of, during one of our light bondage sessions, whilst she is tied to the bed and blindfolded, slipping a disposable under her bum and taping her up and adding a pair of snap on plastic pants. I’m thinking of keeping her there until she wets the nappy and using a magic wand vibrator to make her climax in her damp disposable. Taking her enjoyment of being my good girl to another level. TBH, I have never previously thought about putting a partner in a diaper, as I said above, it’s always been about someone making me wear and wet. But I’m starting to think that it might be quite exciting and add another side to our relationship. And if it turns out that it’s not something she enjoys I will at least be able to show her how I would like to be treated by her. I should at this point add that before we moved in together she put on a disposable from my stash at her house (whilst I wasn’t there) and wet it to see what it was like and why I enjoyed doing it so much. Has anyone been through something similar? It would be good to hear members opinions on whether the above is a good idea or not.
  16. The Beginning. Mike was short, cute, and secure of himself. At least that was what Rose told everyone when they asked her what had she seen on him. After all, Rose was 6,0’’, curvy, and was on her way to becoming a police officer when they met. On the other hand, Mike was on his way to be a nobody, at least he cooked and cleaned the house. Chapter I “Is everything ready?” asked Rose, she was wearing an elegant black dress that contrasted beautifully with her fair skin. “All packed and ready,” said Mike. It was the night of Rose’s promotion. She was finally becoming a captain, and her loyal husband was proud of her. In honor of the day, he had planned a small trip up north to Rose’s family cabin near a lake. They were ready, but before leaving, Rose told Mike one thing. “No drinks. Okay? I don’t want another incident” “IT was just one time” “Four, actually. So no more drinks. It’s my night. Please” she said. Mike felt ashamed, it had only been one time. The others were justified accidents. IT was not his fault that every time he drank he had to go to the toilet every twenty minutes or he would burst. It had happened during their second date, it happened again the day they married, and had happened twice in front of Rose’s friends. “I promise,” he said resentfully. They finally arrived at the hotel where the ceremony was taking place. Rose disappeared between the crowd and was having a lot of fun with her colleagues. Mike, on the other hand, was bored. Everyone was drinking, men, women, high ranks of the police department, and even the guards were allowed one drink that night. It did not help when Antonio, Rose’s academy friend began getting closer to her. Mike didn’t like him, he was tall, tanned, a good dancer, and fit. All he was not and Rose seemed to be happy with his presence. “Hey little buddy,” said Antonio. “Hello,” said Mike. “I must say so, you are one hella lucky boy,” said Antonio and turned to Rose “She is gorgeous” “Oh Antonio. You are making me blush” said Rose. “Thanks,” said Mike, doing his best not to throw a fit at that moment. The night kept going and the moment of the promotion was about to arrive. Antonio, Rose, and Rose’s rival, Becca were preparing to give their acceptance speech. Mike, still bored, was sitting at the front table. Rose’s champagne was there, and with the speeches coming up. He knew he would not make it without a drink. Just one, he thought, and that’s it. Just one to put me in party mode. He took the glass and drank. The night kept going, and Mike did not stop with one. He kept drinking, and by the time Rose’s speech was up he was having a hard time focusing. Then, a familiar pressure on his bladder told him that he had to run to the nearest bathroom. Mike stood up and left in the middle of her wife’s acceptance speech. Rose noticed but kept going as if nothing had happened. Mika ran but once he got in the bathroom he saw something he shouldn’t have. Antonio and Becca, who had received their promotions before Rose, were in the men’s bathroom making out and about to do what most men would think to do when they saw Becca. “Stop, stop,” said Becca “There’s someone here” Mike’s bladder was about to burst. “I-I’m sorry,” said Mike when they turned to see the smaller man “I didn’t mean to” Becca took her things and left without saying a word. “Good one there, little boy. Way to cock block a mate” said Antonio. “It wasn’t my…” And he felt it. The familiar feeling of warm liquid pouring through his underwear and into the floor. Then, the overwhelming sensation of fear, and finally, the one thing that had to happen every time he had lost control. He began crying in front of the toering and sexy man. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi guys! The first 5 to join my patreon will have a story created just for them. https://www.patreon.com/esmeeABDL This story's second chapter is already on my patreon,, and stay tuned in here for more of Jenna's regression enxt week.
  17. PROLOGUE 18 year old Cassie Smith is living a normal life until one day everything becomes different. She ends up being taken captive by a former classmate named Clark because she did not go out with him during high school. Clark ends up forcing Cassie to become a little girl in order to humiliate her for not going out with him during high school as well as for payback for her making fun of him in high school. I will be working on this story and maybe a couple more while still updating New Girl in School as well as working on another story. As always, I am open to all feedback. Feel free to either PM me or comment your feedback below. Hope you enjoy! :) CHAPTER 1: GRADUATION *Ring Ring* I jolt awake as I hear my alarm go off. It is June 4th, 2017, today is the day. Finally done with school, the day I get to walk that stage and officially be done. No more classes, no more homework, no more being made fun of for being short (I am really short for my age, I am 4 foot 11, which I got made fun of a lot throughout school), all I have to worry about is working at the humane society. I love my job, I really do, but I’ll admit, adding school on top of my job, it can be very stressful. As I get up out of bed, I jump into the shower to start getting ready for the day. As I finish with my shower, I put on my clothes that I will be wearing underneath my cap and gown. Underneath my cap and gown, I will be wearing a nice, but not too fancy, red dress and some converse. Once I finished getting dressed, I head downstairs to go make some eggs, bacon, and pancakes. As I finish making and eating breakfast, I grab my cap and gown and start walking to the high school. Yes, I am 18 and I don’t have a car, it’s tough having to walk everywhere. My parents say I have to buy my own car, but with taking a lot of AP classes this year, I have not been able to work enough to rack up enough money to buy a car. Once I got to the school, I put on my cap and gown and head into the gym to meet up with everyone else where we are doing a mini rehearsal before the actual graduation ceremony. The rehearsal went well, as usual, now it is time for the real thing. As we finished up with the rehearsal, we went outside where we walked to our assigned chairs. Everybody was organized alphabetically so it was easy to find our seats. As we took our seats, the principal of the school spoke, welcoming the parents and family members who are attending today’s graduation. Once the principal was done giving his little speech, he gave the microphone to one of the teachers who are announcing the names of the students as they walk across the stage. As I am waiting in line to cross the stage for what seems like hours as names are being announced, I hear “Cassandra Smith”. As I am walking across the stage, everyone starts cheering and clapping. As I finish crossing the stage, I grab my diploma and start heading back to my assigned chair to wait until everyone else’s name is called off. Once everyone’s name was called off, we made a giant circle and threw our caps into the air as our theme song was playing in the background. Once the song was done, I met up with my family and we took photos of me in my cap and gown for memories. Once we were done taking photos, we headed to a semi-nice location to have lunch with my family members who came to my graduation and ate lunch. Once we were done with lunch, we headed back to the house. The day was quickly ending and it was already 8pm. I needed to get ready for work because I had to get to the Humane Society early tomorrow to head to work. I then got all of my work things together, and got ready for bed. Once I finished getting ready for bed, I laid down and quickly fell asleep.
  18. Aizawa Shouta-the infamous Eraserhead-wasn’t happy with Class 1-A. On numerous occasions he’d told them to shape up and they never had, they never started acting like adults or taking any type of responsibility. What he didn’t know was that they would soon start seeing him as nothing more than a baby, a baby they were going to be responsible for whether he liked it or not.
  19. I am 35 years old, Anastasia de Jong. I am a tall blonde. I bring up my 16 year old daughter Britney alone. Usually she grew obedient and good, but recently her behavior has become worse. Teachers complain about her behavior, a day later they call me from school, and I always listen to what she has done. This week, she managed to break the window and fight twice with her classmates. And now I got her report card. Not a single positive assessment. Mostly grades are “C” and even a few “D”. “No, something needs to be decided. Apparently, I missed something in her upbringing. I will return it to childhood and correct the lost .. "I muse When she was at school, I went to the store, bought things for the child and sat in the kitchen to wait for my daughter ... I look at the clock .. “Yeah, now she’s staying at school too ...” My determination became even stronger ... I heard the door slam in the hallway ... "Brit, is that you? Come here to the kitchen. We need to talk ... "I'm screaming from the kitchen
  20. Hi all. I've been working on this for about a year, and thought that some people might like it. It's an amateur project, just a chance to share my crazy crazy fantasies with others, and aims to provide story length rather than having the best art around (at 63 pages for $14.99, I hope that people feel that it's still good value). It's quite dark (forced diapering, diaper usage, ageplay spanking, giantess theme, etc), so may not appeal to everybody. It comes as a PDF (there's no DRM) which allows better reading of the comic (scrolling through pages). You can also just drag the file into Google Chrome to read it there, which works well using the screen-width stretch button. It's hosted on Lulu.com's ebook store, so that you can re-download it once purchased. Lulu is pretty straight forward, it just requires a simple (free) sign up like ebay or amazon. If you have any troubles or questions, let me know. Naturally I'm terribly nervous, but hope that people will like it. Keep in mind that it is an amateur comic, so the art is not the best out there. Most of it is flat shaded, but does fortunately get progressively better due to being drawn in order. It's somewhat divided so that the first half is story, and the second half is 'action'. Synopsis: World of the Immortals: A Diplomatic Incident When bored college student Nadia discovers that travel to parallel worlds is possible, she sets off to make a discovery on an alternate planet, expecting to be a famous scientist before the day is out. What she doesn’t expect is to encounter the immortal giants of the alternate world - a race who consider her nothing more than a baby, not even old enough to be out of diapers, and definitely not too old to be spanked. Will Nadia escape her new Mommy and Daddy? Or will the college girl be trapped in a life of diaper changes and nursery playtimes? [Purchase Link] Price: $14.99 USD Length: 63 pages, Several Hundred Images
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