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(Hi! I would like resume this roleplay keeping tones and the tags of the first part. Is someone interested?) Samuel is a spolit and rude 10 years old boy, whom his mother can not longer ménage. One afternoon in which he come home during school hours accompanied by a police man, because he was accused of stealing a videogame, his mother decided that it’s too mutch. Then she search someone who give her some advice about how to correct her mistakes in the boy’s education. Some hours after nunny Alexandra responds to their ad proposing a particular educational system. (I'd like play the role of Samuel, I can play nanny Alexandra role too if you want, the role play start with Samuel who is accompanied by a policeman in front of the door of his house. Please don't write short answer but be descriptive) P.S.

This is the story of university student Jimmy and his descent into diaper dependence and baby treatment at the hands of jocks from the Alpha Beta Delta Lambda fraternity. Will he end up back in diapers? Probably. Will he ever escape and get his big boy pants back? Not likely. But there's only one way to find out! If you read my old story, Back to School, you will find some of the characters and places familiar. This takes place 4 years after those events. If you like this story, you can read ahead on my Patreon, where all my stories and hypno files unlock a month after they are posted. I hope you enjoy, and please comment if you do! Babied by Billy By Champ (Patreon.com/ChampTehOtter) Chapter 1: Butterfingers I was chillin’ at my friend David’s house one day with a few friends. David is an Abercrombie boy who collects expensive cologne and does his hair up just so every day. At first glance you might get the wrong impression, but he’s really a cool guy. His roommate Billy, however, is a big loud frat boy. He’s exactly what he looks like too; a bully. If only I had known just how far he would take things. So as we were sitting in the living room, David got the brilliant idea that I should play Billy’s guitar for Carly and her friend. There was no way I was going to touch Billy’s stuff, though. "Don’t worry, he’s not even here. It might just get you laid, dude!" He whispered, knowing I had a crush on Carly. "No way, dude! " I said as he insistently shoved the guitar in my direction. "No reall-" I pushed the guitar back at him, but he had already released his grip. The guitar hit the ground and all the conversation in the room stopped. I carefully placed it back in its stand hoping Billy - who only got it for looks anyway - wouldn’t notice. Suddenly, Billy came bounding in. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?" He asked, looking round slowly and meeting the eye of every person in the room. Nobody answered him. He walked over and picked up his guitar and looked it over. "What the fuck?" He fingered a large chip in the bottom of the guitar and made a face like murder. "Who chipped my guitar?" He glared at each of us, as I tried to avoid eye contact and act natural. It didn’t take him long to read the glances in the room and suss out the culprit. H-hey, man," I stammered, "I d-d-didn’t mean to drop it. David just threw it at me, and I couldn’t hold onto it right…!" "Don’t bring me into this, man!" Shouted David. "Shut up both of you," Billy yelled. He looked again at me. Slowly, an evil grin spread over his face. "I should really kick your ass for this, buddy, but I have a better lesson in mind for you. Wait right here." Before I even had a chance to run out the door he returned with a backpack. What the hell could he have in mind? Everybody was watching this scene fold out so intently, I felt like they should be eating popcorn. Billy came up close enough for me to feel his breath and whispered in my ear in a calm voice. "All right boy. Since you obviously don’t know how to behave proper, you’re gonna have to learn from scratch. You’re gonna do what I say when I say it whenever you’re in my house and you’re not going to stop until I tell you to.” I wanted to get up and leave, but from the second he said the word ‘boy’, my body began to feel heavy and I couldn’t seem to move away from him. He stood back and pulled out the contents of the bag. A camera, a pacifier, and a big diaper. Aloud he said, ”You want to act like a baby in my house, fine. But you’re gonna have to wear the proper attire. It’s a good thing I had these left over from the last fraternity pledge who gave up! Who knows, if you behave you might be Alpha Beta Delta Lambda’s newest member!” What the hell? This was just too much. I shook off my stupor and rose to leave but Billy caught me by the arm. "Hey, where do you think you’re going, buddy boy?" He pulled me into a headlock and began to whisper again in my ear. I looked at the others with a hopeful expression but nobody in the room moved to help me. He started speaking again in that strangely soothing voice. "Don’t think you’re gonna get off that easy, boy. I’ve had plenty of experience working with squirrely little runts like you. You’re going to put this diaper on, and then you’re going to go and play in the sand box out back until I say you can stop. And I’m going to video tape it. You’re going to act like a baby whenever you are in my presence and if you disobey me, everyone you know will find out just how much of a baby you really are. When I snap my fingers you are going to strip and do just what I’ve told you and you won’t be able to stop yourself until I say so.” Billy snapped his fingers. I froze for a few seconds. Nothing happened. Then, my face went red as I realized what an idiot I was. For a second, he had me going there! Why the fuck would I do anything he said, especially if it gave him something on me? I was so busy mentally slapping myself that I almost didn’t notice David’s exclamation of surprise. "Dude! What are you doing?" I was taking off my clothes is what I was doing. The girls started to giggle. Was this really happening? Before I knew it, I was lying on the floor putting on my first diaper since I was two. Billy grinned as I lay there taping it up, as if to say, ‘I knew you were a bitch’. David already had his phone out recording. Some friend he was! “A little help here, David?” I asked, desperately hoping for a way out of this predicament. “Nah, dude! Looks like you got it covered!” He replied, mistaking my plea for help as an invitation to help me put the diaper on. “That’s enough from you, diaper boy. This oughtta shut you up!” Billy shoved the large pink pacifier in my mouth, and I instinctively began to suck, unable to spit it back out. Next thing I knew I was padding over to the back door with nothing but a diaper on to keep me decent. The whole crew followed me out back where I began playing in the sand box and sucking on my pacifier. Billy already had the camera rolling so he could capture this precious memory in 4k. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to regain control of my body to stop this craziness, and to top it all off I had to pee. Bad. "Oh, shit!" Said Billy a moment later as my diapers turned yellow, "He’s actually using them! It’s a good thing you guys didn’t let him sit on the couch!" “Ewww!” Said Carly’s friend, giggling at the embarrassing display. I was totally fucked. Forced to suck on a paci and use diapers in front of everyone who, by the way, were laughing their asses off, except for Carly, who only smiled sympathetically. And it was all on camera! Well at least they were enjoying my miserable situation. Unfortunately for me, this was only the beginning. Babied by Billy Ch. 1 (2020).pdf

The premise of this series is that the caregivers in the Jackie universe have collectively hired someone to write a newsletter documenting the happenings in the local scene. It's a weird way to spend money, but then, there are a lot of extravagant flashes of wealth going on here already, and this is a relatively minor one when it is pooled together by the group. I wrote these for a couple of reasons - one, because while I've now introduced 9 big babies in the Jackie series (some only in passing) there are still quite a few that we know very little about. So, it's a good chance to meet characters whose perspectives we might see down the line. Second, I've mentioned before that I love the idea of limited perspectives, and doing these newsletters from the CGs perspectives is a fun way to get a different view of the world than we'd get from Jackie or another one of the babies. I particularly enjoy instances where their perspectives on events dramatically differ. Personally, I take no position on whose interpretation is correct - although the "author" of these newsletters will certainly lean towards reporting the only interpretation that they hear as fact! And third, I selfishly enjoy the idea that these newsletters are being sent out via email, and that the babies probably don't even know that they exist, and, to the extent they do, have absolutely no opportunity to present their side of the story to the outside world. Maybe their perspective will be shared with us via a certain narrator who can somehow read their thoughts, but it will never get to the small group of people they know, and maybe their view of events will never even make it that far and the accounts below will just become the official account. And which would even be better? Anyways, enough of my musings. From here on out, when I post story segments I'll just jump straight into the "author's" voice. For now, I've written out a full round of these on the same topic. I don't know if I'll come back to it when this round is over, and if I do, whether I'll continue with the idea of doing the rounds to all nine or not. I think this could be a vehicle for some of the more experimental short stories that I have in mind, so it could take a different form in later editions. If people have ideas of topics that they'd want our reporter to explore, I'm open to suggestions (although I make absolutely no promises!). And if you don't know the series yet, or you want to play where's waldo with a couple of the heretofore minor characters that will get their proper debuts in the next several weeks, here are the previous stories in the universe: Baby's Unexpected Trip Jackie's Play Date The Haircut Pushing Boundaries The Morning After the Night Before ------- Author's note: Hi - and welcome to the first edition of Big Baby Steps, the new newsletter featuring all of the latest gossip from the NoVa big baby scene. I'm so honored that you all have chosen me to help keep each other up to date on what your little girls are up to, and I can't wait to get to know each of your families! If you've got topics you want me to answer, just respond to this email. We're going to have so much fun! Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Tory! Making stinkies. Doing a pushie. Going poo-poos. We might all assign different little names for our girls to use, but we all know what we’re talking about – dirty diapers. We’re all more or less used to them now, and so are our big baby girls, but the fact that they can still be such a source of embarrassment highlights just how infantile making a mess in your pants is for even our well-conditioned adult babies. Invariably, our little ones come away covered in their own messes, and the smell makes sure that no one can miss what they’ve done (even if we may choose to play oblivious for a while!). When changing time comes, there may be relief from the discomfort, but, done right, the shame should be great enough that our little ones are practically begging to just be taped into a fresh diaper and returned to whatever other embarrassing activity you might have in mind for them. You asked that we use the first several of our new community newsletters to get to know the babies’ stories a little better, and what better way to do that than to hear the story of the first time that they did the most babyish thing possible? Today, we start by share our conversation with Tory’s Daddy, Brian, who told us quite a different story than we’d expected to hear. (I've lightly edited our conversation for clarity) What was going on the first time Baby Tory messed? Hah, so I think that people think they basically know this story, but I don’t actually think anyone does! People remember that we let Tory use the potty for her poopies for the first, I don’t know, 15 years. It was one of those things where even before Kara and I talked to Tory about coming to live with us as our live-in sub, we talked about how we’d ultimately make her into a baby. At that time, we weren’t sure we wanted to deal with dirty diapers, and so we decided we’d use a potty. As it turns out, dealing with a potty wasn’t really any better for us, since we still had to deal with the stink and we still had to clean the potty, so it was only really better for her. But, you know, we’d made the rules and I just think it never occurred to us to change it until one of the other babies came over and there was a dirty diaper in Tory’s pail. When we found out Tory was the exception, it made us think and all of the sudden it was a “why not?” situation. But anyways, what people don’t know is that all of that came way after her first dirty diaper! So this was all maybe, I don’t know, four or five years before we made the shift away from the potty. Kara has an annual work party that is always a pretty big deal. They always have everyone in the company from all around the country come into headquarters and bring in their families and it’s kind of like a staff retreat for a couple days but then on the last night they have a big party for everyone. With Tory at home it can be a little bit harder to get out much. I actually think a lot of people at both of our works think we are sort of prudes who never go out. Of course, little do they know what we’re actually doing! But, you know, it would be nice to be able to go out a little bit more, especially together. So parties like that are pretty big events for us. We’d arranged for her nanny to stay late to babysit, which was what we’d normally do if there was something we needed to do outside of the house. Ashley says it isn’t actually that much more work than a normal day, since she just has to feed Tory and then give her a bath, and once she’s got her in bed she just sits and watches TV like she normally would, only at our house. And, of course, we pay her extra so I think as long as it isn’t all the time it works out pretty well. So, we went out and had a great time. Must not have got back home until at least one or two in the morning. When we did, Ashley woke up and went home to sleep in her own bed. We, of course, pretty much went straight to bed too. At this point, maybe you can see where this is headed… Well, maybe? How did this lead to Baby Tory’s first dirty diaper? Yeah, so it’s actually kind of a comedy of errors from this point. If we are out late on the weekend, it’s fairly predictable that we will sleep in pretty late. Not that we don’t usually sleep in a bit on the weekends, but we’d normally be talking about something like 8 o’clock, which doesn’t really impact Tory. But if we are out later, we’re likely to sleep until more like 9 or 10. Tory doesn’t have any way of knowing the time in her room, so she’s certainly not in a position to be complaining about the time when she wakes up on those sorts of mornings. Surely she knows it is well past when she normally gets up, but she can’t prove it, and she wouldn’t be allowed to do anything about it anyways. In fact, those can turn into funny days for her, because sometimes we’ll wake her up, feed her breakfast, feed her lunch, and put her down for a nap all in a matter of just maybe two or three hours. Not that she’s ever awake for more than about five or six hours at a time on a normal day, but those days can get really compressed. But back in the old days, sometimes if we slept in too late Tory would get to the point where she needed the potty. In those cases, she was allowed to make noise over the baby monitor to beg us to get her up and take her there. Of course, as usual, she had to be ready to go immediately once we got her on there, so it was usually a pretty big emergency at that stage. On the morning in question, that never happened. Kara and I both slept late – probably like 10:30 or so. I don’t think either of us really thought much of not having heard anything from Tory, to be honest. We got up and just went about our normal routine. Kara went downstairs to make coffee for us and some breakfast for Tory, while I headed to the nursery to get her up, changed, and dressed for the day. As soon as I opened the door the smell hit me. I’d put Tory on the potty plenty of times, so I knew immediately that I wasn’t just dealing with gas. The other thing was that Tory was crying. My mind was racing trying to figure out why she hadn’t said anything, or why we hadn’t heard her crying over the monitor. It wasn’t like she was that loud, but it would have been plenty loud enough to wake us up. And then I remembered! Sometimes, as a sort of torture/reward, we play a little prank on Tory where we switch the baby monitors. We’ll put the transmitter in our room and the receiver in the nursery instead of the other way around. And then, come the evening, well after she’s gone to sleep, she’ll be surprised by the sound of the two of us going at it. I assume that this is a pretty rude awakening for her, but if she’s smart, it’s the only time where she isn’t being monitored against getting herself off. And considering that this is all a big turn on for her that she’s otherwise not usually allowed to act upon, I assume that she’s figured that out! So anyways, as I walked into her room and took in what happened, I pretty quickly remembered that the morning before we’d thought that it would be a good night to switch the monitors, since it would probably come as a complete surprise to Tory when we’d been out all night. But we’d gotten home so late that we hadn’t even thought about it (or Tory, really), and we’d just gone to sleep. Probably sometime that morning, Tory had called over the monitor that she needed to go potty, but we hadn’t heard it. And she probably had figured out what the problem was when she heard us get out of bed, but that wasn’t making her morning any more pleasant! How did she react? Well, you know, like I said, she was crying as soon as I walked in. Maybe she had been before. I actually felt bad for her, since it had been an honest mistake. I tried not to rub it in too much, although I could tell that even just mild teasing was pretty embarrassing under the circumstances. I think I said something like, “Oh no, Baby Tory, did you have a poopy accident?” when I got over to her crib. She was sucking her thumb like always, but she just cried a little harder and with these big puppy dog eyes gave the most pathetic little nod you’ve ever seen. I lowered the side of the crib and pulled back the blanket. When I helped her sit up, I have to say that I relished the face she made. It was just horror, and I couldn’t resist teasing her a little more. “Alright, well since we got you up a little late I assume you want breakfast before we change you?” She shook her head furiously. “No, Baby Tory? Your mommy is making it nice and yummy for you right now. You can just bump down the stairs on your bum and then hop right up into the highchair.” Her eyes were just pleading now. We both knew this was not actually her choice. But I’d never really intended to take her down there. “Fiiiine, little girl, we can change you first.” I helped her up and guided her the couple steps to the changing table, where with a quick boost she took one final, unpleasant seat and then laid back for the change. What was the change like? Once I got her over there, I kind of had a moment where I realized I was in for something quite different than I was used to. When I opened up the diaper, the smell wasn’t necessarily any worse than the potty, but the mess sure was. When she used the potty, all it took was a couple of quick wipes and she was pretty much good to go. But with that first dirty diaper I barely knew where to start. Well, except for more teasing! That part was obvious. I was like, “Such a dirty girl, Baby Tory. You got stinky poo poos all over your bum, didn’t you?” Nothing too inspired, really, but neither of us were used to them yet, so they worked She, of course, didn’t answer except by turning a further shade of red. From there, I just got to business. Pick a spot and wipe it. I know enough now to know that it really wasn’t a bad one at all. She probably hadn’t been in it for more than an hour, and since she’d mostly just been lying on her back, it hadn’t really spread nearly as much as we sometimes see now that we’ll make her keep going about her business for a while before we are ready to change her. Within a few minutes, I had her clean, powdered, and padded again. I picked out a onesie for her and got her into it. “Are you going to say thank you, Baby Tory?” I asked her. “Fank oo, Daddy,” she said, although it was still muffled by her thumb, so you could barely really understand her. Which is the point. “For what, little girl?” She didn’t want to say it, but she was going to have to and she knew it. “Fan oo fowah changy my poopy diapuh.” “You’re welcome, my stinky little princess. It’s a good thing you have mommy and daddy to take care of you. Try not to have too many naughty thoughts about how you’re just a dirty baby girl who couldn’t wait long enough to use her potty. Let’s go downstairs for breakfast.” Her blush told me that I was right. She had hated it, but the part of her that had made her want to come here for the humiliation also had gotten a thrill. I vowed to myself that Kara and I would do everything we could to tease her and turn her on for the rest of the day, but that we’d make absolutely sure she wasn’t able to get any release for at least the next week or two, even though we’d been ready to give her that rare chance the night before. Does anything else stand out? Well, the first thing was that as soon as we got downstairs, Kara asked what took us so long. So then I got to tell her all about it. Of course, I only reminded her of the monitor situation afterwards when Tory was back in her crib for naptime. Kara, of course, naturally went straight in for the humiliation as well, telling Tory how glad she was that she didn’t have to change such a disgusting diaper. The whole time she fed her she kept saying things like “open up for the airplane, you big smelly baby,” and she generally made sure that there was no way that Tory could forget her shame for the rest of the weekend. And then another thing I remember is how much fun it was to taunt Tory with what she did the rest of the weekend. We definitely did keep her horny but frustrated, which is my favorite version of Baby Tory. I think we ended up waiting another month or so before we finally did the flip the monitor trick again and let her have a little release. But the best part was that her room smelled the whole weekend until we finally had to take the diaper pail out on Sunday. She literally couldn’t escape the memory even after she was out of the mess. Of course, now that’s pretty close to constant, but back then, that was novel. And, of course, I think the experience helped make sure that when I found out all the other babies did that all the time, I didn’t really hesitate. Like I said, the potty was only better for her, and having changed one poopy diaper, now I knew that first hand. So yeah, that’s about it. Looking back, we kind of wish we’d used that as an excuse to just have her start messing all the time then, but we got there eventually!

Stockholm Syndrome Baby Chapter 1 My name is Kevin Lorey. I am 15 years old and I live in Beaumont, North Dakota. I am writing this journal because my therapist, Dr. Kline, has asked me to. She says that if I write down my feelings about what happened to me, perhaps I can come to terms with it. I hope she's right, I don't want to feel the way I do but, I can't help it anymore and I'm deathly afraid that someone outside my family will discover my secret. I don't know if I could survive if that happened. Ok, let's get this started. It was a cool day in October, about 5 years ago when it all began. I was walking home from school. I wasn't too far from my house, near my friend Gerald's place when, I spied a minivan that I didn't recognize. It was parked on the curb in front of Gerald's house and had out of state plates. I knew that Gerald had family out of state but, I didn't know where they lived. The windows were tinted so I couldn't see inside. Nothing would have happened if I hadn't stopped. No! I can't think like that. Dr. Kline says it's not my fault. I was just being a curious 10 year old. I didn't do anything to provoke a response but, a response is definitely what I got. I walked across the burm to get a better look at the minivan but, the windows were way too tinted for me to even get a glimpse of what was inside. If I had seen the crazy woman in there, I would have run like a demon was on my heels. When I couldn’t see inside, I turned to continue walking home. I heard the door to the minivan open suddenly and felt a hand covered my mouth and nose. I struggled with everything I could, trying to get away from whoever was holding my face. Another hand grabbed the back of my shirt and began dragging me into the minivan. In a panic, I swung my arm behind me and hit the door jam. I heard a sickening crack and intense pain shot up through my arm, all the way to my shoulder. That was the last thing I heard or felt. The world went dark just after that, she used chloroform on me, that’s what the police said. When I came to, I was sitting in an awkward position. My arm that I’d hit on the door jam still hurt like crazy but, when I tried to talk, I found that I was gagged. I tried to move around and found that I was bound as well. I was sitting in a raised seat, like the ones that toddler’s are put into for car trips. My injured arm lay useless at my side and my other arm was bound by the seat’s straps. Realizing that I had just been kidnapped, I looked around. I was in an enclosed area of a minivan, a wall of some kind separated the back seats from the driver area. The scenery outside was a constant blur of woods and fields, none of it looked familiar. I was scared. I’d heard of kids being taken and made to do “bad things” with adults. They had told us at school about the “dangerous stranger” and I was always very careful around adults that I didn’t know. The van drove for several hours without stopping. I was still groggy from the chloroform so I drifted in and out of consciousness. Finally, when the car stopped, I heard a door opening somewhere and began trying to shout for help but, the gag in my mouth made that impossible. A gentle hand ran over my head and a woman bent down to face me. She was in her mid to late 40’s, blonde and in fairly good shape for her age. She smiled at me and began to manipulate the seat I was in. The seat straightened out and stretched until I was lying on my back, my injured arm dangling at me side. The woman unbuckled the lower straps on the seat, freeing my legs. I started kicking and thrashing. She stood up and began smiling even wider. “I’ll just wait till you tire yourself out, then we can get you ready for the rest of the trip home.” she said I glared up at her and stopped kicking, waiting until she got close enough to kick. She seemed to know what I was thinking. She pulled a little black bag, the kind doctors used to use for house calls, from behind her and searched around in it for a moment. When her hand came out, it had a syringe and small drug bottle in it. That made me start thrashing again. I’ve always hated needles and I didn’t want to be anywhere near her right at that moment. Pain from my injured arm shot up into my shoulder and I held back the urge to cry. She uncovered the needle and stuck it into the top of the drug bottle then, set the syringe aside. As I thrashed, she grabbed one of my legs and held it tightly in one hand. I barely felt the pain from my arm as the fear of what she was going to do filled me. She pulled something down from the ceiling of the van and secured my leg in it. It looked like the handle for a giant pair of scissors. Once my leg was stuck in the hole, she grabbed my other leg and secured it as well. She retrieved the needle and I tried to thrash but with my legs in the scissor handles and my body in the seat but, I couldn’t do much. She walked around so she was behind my legs and I felt a pin prick in the small of my back. She walked back around to my side and sat down on a stool. Soon, my legs began to go numb, I couldn’t feel anything at all below the waist, couldn’t move and, the pressure in my bladder was building rapidly. She saw the distress in my eyes and knew that the drug had taken affect. She released my legs from the restraints, not that I could do much about it. She pulled a small length of narrow plastic tubing from her doctor bag. The tubing was in a sterile case and the second I saw it, I knew I wasn‘t going to like what she had planned for me, even if I wasn‘t sure of what it was. She began by removing my shoes and socks, then my pants and underwear. I must have blushed like ten thousand shades of red and I almost began crying from embarrassment. What I didn’t know was, the worst was yet to come. She took some sort of jelly from the bag and began lubing up the tube. She grabbed my penis and started shoving the tube up it. I was terrified and tried to thrash my legs around but they were still unresponsive. When she had the tube fully inside my penis, she walked back to the driver’s compartment, leaving me there, naked and scared. It was then that I noticed a small string dangling from the end of where she had put the tube. I didn’t understand what was going on but, I definitely did not like it. The woman came back a moment later, carrying a brightly colored bag. It had little teddy bears and pastel blocks on it. I could see a baby bottle sticking out of a pocket on it and realized what it was, A BABY’S DIAPER BAG! She opened it and pulled a fairly large diaper out. It looked exactly like a baby’s diaper, except it was about five times bigger. She opened it up then lifted my useless legs up and slid it under me. I couldn’t feel the padding or, I might have tried to thrash again. She grabbed more of that jelly stuff and wiped it all over my butt and crotch. By this time my embarrassment was so bad that I actually started crying. She stopped what she was doing and began rubbing my chest and stomach with her hand, cooing gently, just like you would to calm a cranky baby. That didn’t help my mood so, she went back to diapering me. The powder was next then, she pulled the string at the end of my penis to the side as the diaper came up over my crotch. She fastened the tapes and then pulled the string out from the end of the tube. I immediately felt a lessening in pressure and watched the diaper grow yellow. I was almost bawling my head off at this point. She reached up and began fiddling with the end of my gag. “Oh My God!” I thought when I realized that the thing in my mouth wasn’t a gag, IT WAS A PACIFIER! She was going to treat me like a baby and, the tube in my penis was going to make sure I couldn’t stop myself from wetting my diaper. When the realization of the what was happening dawned on me, I wiggled and thrashed around, trying to free myself, but it was no use. She had me strapped tight in the child seat. She finished messing with the end of my pacifier and reached into the diaper bag. She pulled a baby bottle from it and unscrewed the top. She held my head still with one hand and pushed the bottle onto the end of the pacifier, then screwed it together. I heard a swish of a vacuum being released and liquid began flowing into my mouth. As my mouth filled, I was forced to swallow, which pulled more liquid from the nipple. Soon my mouth was full of liquid again and I was forced to swallow, pulling more liquid into my mouth. The cycle went on for several minutes until the bottle was empty. She removed it and put another one in it’s place, then walked back to the driver’s compartment. The van stared up and we were moving again. My destiny at that point looked pretty grim and I cried as I was forced to finish the second baby bottle. There must have been something in them to knock me out because I fell asleep not long after the second bottle was done. Chapter 2 Slowly, the world began to seep into the dreamless sleep that I had been forced to endure. Sounds were first, birds and the whistle of a train. My nerves began to slowly come to life as I felt myself being lifted up, out of the car seat. I kept my eyes closed, for fear the sunlight would blind me but, that was unnecessary. As I was carried, there was no glare of sunlight through the protective surface of my eyelids. One at a time, I forced my eyes open. Only a sliver at first so, as not to alert my captor. The sun was setting behind me. The fading light illuminated the van from which I had been pulled and a long dusty drive, leading up to a deserted looking country road. I was laying with my head on my kidnapper’s shoulder so, I couldn’t see where we were going, only where we had just been. I took in every detail I could so I could remember it when questioned by the police. It was so hard to just lie there, limp in her arms but, my strength had not returned and, I knew I had no chance of escaping at that moment. I felt her walk up some steps and stop. There was the sound of a lock being undone and then two doors being opened. She carried me into a house and up to the second floor. I heard the noise as she dropped the keys onto a table. She shifted me to the front and I quickly closed my eyes. I felt myself being lowered into a padded table and straps were pulled over me, to hold me down. She walked off and I opened my eyes. I was in some kind of nursery. The room was huge, the theme was an earthy brown and the furniture looked somewhat expensive. I could hear her doing something in a nearby room so, I took stock of how much of my body was mine to control again. Sensation was slowly beginning to come back to my legs and waist. With that sensation, I could definitely feel the diaper that encased my hips. To my utter disgust, I felt as if I was sitting in a thick mud. “Oh My God! I shit myself” I thought The feeling was more than just disgusting, it was disturbing as well. Whatever drugs she had given me had worked their particular magic very well. My thoughts were confirmed as the cold wet feeling around my crotch suddenly warmed. I realized that I now had the bladder and bowel control of a small infant. Before I could do anything else, I heard her walking back towards me. I closed my eyes and relaxed on the table. I felt her breath on my face as she bent down in front of me. She gently ran her fingers through my hair and I heard her sniff then, giggle. “So far, so good.” she whispered I felt her un-strap my right arm. She pulled my arm our straight from my shoulder and lay it on what felt like Styrofoam. She then began pressing my hand into the foam, starting at my fingers, and ending with my elbows. I could hear the foam crunch as my arm was pressed into it. My curiosity was driving me mad so I opened my eyes, just a sliver. She had several boxes filled with blue Styrofoam. She flipped the other side of the box on my arm over, closing it around my arm, then began to strap it down. As she worked, I noticed that my arm didn’t hurt anymore, in fact, I couldn’t feel anything from it. She walked around the table and did the same to my other arm and both my legs, up to the knee. I couldn’t figure out what she was doing but, that would become apparent fairly soon. She left me like that, lying there in a dirty diaper, spread eagle with my limbs enclosed in the foam filled boxes, for the better part of an hour. When she came back in, she had the diaper bag I had seen in the van. I tried to remain still, hoping that I would have a chance to escape. Those hopes were dashed when she bent down to my ear and whispered to me. “I know you’re awake baby, the anesthetic I gave you should have worn off by now.” I opened my eyes and glared at her hatefully. “Aww, don’t be like that sweetie, mommy would never hurt her baby boy and that’s what you are, my baby boy. I watched you for a long time. You’re just the right size, weight, and temperament. I’ve seen the way the other kids treat you. You don’t fight back too fiercely when they tease you about your bed wetting.” My eyes went wide with surprise when she mentioned my sleep wetting problem. “ Oh yes.” she said “I know all about how my baby wets his bed every night. I also know how you still sleep with a little teddy bear. Oh it’s so cute!” She seemed so excited She walked around the table, removing my arms and legs from the foam filled boxes, then strapped them back to the table, one at a time. She set the boxes aside and moved to un-strap my legs and set them into a device just like the one she had used in the van. She then began to un-tape the diaper and pull it off my crotch. She cranked a lever on the scissor hands and they began to raise up, taking my legs with them. Soon, my butt was off the ground and she was cleaning me off with baby wipes. Once it was done, she removed the dirty diaper and wipes, dropping them into a diaper genie. She pulled another diaper and a bottle of baby oil from the bag and set them on the table. As I lay there, naked, she poured some baby oil into her hands and began rubbing it all over my body, slowly, massaging it into my skin. By the time she was done, I smelled like a baby’s nursery. After the diaper was put underneath me, my crotch and butt were powdered. She cleaned off her hands and pulled the diaper up, covering my crotch then, taped it shut. She patted my bottom as she bent down and cooed into my ear. “There we go, all clean and dry. Now my baby smells like he should too.” Tears of embarrassment rolled down my face as she continued to pat my diapered butt. She took my legs out of the device and strapped them back to the table. She then gathered up the foam boxes and left the room. A couple of minutes later, she came back in with a weird looking helmet and a baby bottle. I thrashed my head, side to side but, it wasn’t hard for her to put the helmet on me. The helmet encompassed my entire head, closing me off from any sight or sound outside it. I could feel the helmet being secured into place against the table, preventing me from moving my head, and the bottle being attached to the back of the pacifier. At first there was no sight or sound, only the rhythmic suckling of the nipple in my mouth. I couldn’t tell how much time passed when suddenly, a video screen in the helmet turned on and the speakers near my ears came to life. On the screen was a mother taking care of her baby. While the mother/baby scene played out on the video screen, the quiet sounds of a waves, crashing upon the shore played on the speakers. The scene played out a day of mother and baby activity, including watching the toddler as it wet and messed itself. On a regular basis, the bottle was removed from the pacifier and replaced with another one. I felt something soft and warm being laid over me, covering me from neck to feet. I don’t know how many repetitions of the mommy/baby scene I watched before I fell asleep. Chapter 3 While I slept, my mind was filled with the lost memories of my infancy. I remembered them in my dreams, just as if I was living them in the moment. Diaper changes, breast feedings, rides through the neighborhood in my stroller and, the endless pinched cheeks from my female relatives. It seemed like the dreams would never end, as if I was being forced to relive my life from birth till being toilet trained, over and over again. Suddenly I was jolted from my strange dreams by an icy feeling on my crotch. I tried to stir but, my arms remained strapped down and the helmet still resided upon my head. I felt a gentle wiping motion on my crotch and bottom then a light sensation, as if dust was falling there as well. The next thing I know, I feel my nether regions being encapsulated in another diaper and a gentle hand rubbing my stomach and diaper. The helmet blocked any words that might have accompanied the physical gesture but, the intent was clear. My captor was trying to calm me as you would to a small infant. After a few moments of this, my injured arm was released from the restraints and slipped into the sleeve of some garment. I waited for my hand to emerge from the end of the sleeve but, it didn’t. Instead, I felt it roll over a mass of spongy material and then something wrapped around my wrist. I squeezed my hand only to be rewarded with a sharp pain in my palm, as if I had grabbed onto a ball of needles. My arm was strapped down again and something was drug underneath my back. I pressed my back down, hoping to block the cloth. Again I was rewarded with the sensation of a sphere of razor sharp needles as it pressed into my back. I arched in pain and the cloth was pulled beneath me. Slowly but surely, my body was enclosed in this garment and my arms were restrained again. My legs were left unrestrained but, I couldn‘t understand why at the time. The answer came soon enough though. There was intense pain when I tried to stomp my feet and when I tried to close my hands so, I stopped struggling and waited. The helmet was removed from my head and my eyes tried to adjust to the light. I couldn’t focus my eyes and everything seemed blurred. I didn’t understand but, I knew she had done something to me that I couldn’t quite comprehend. I think she smiled at my non-comprehension but, it was hard to tell with my eyes so unfocused. She bent down over me and gently rubbed my stomach through the soft material that now encompassed my body. I looked at it for the first time and realized that I was dressed in a one piece, footed, sleeper. Anger flooded me and I tried to give my captor the “death stare” but, she only smiled and said, “Aww sweetie, don’t be like that. You’ll love being my baby, eventually. I’m going to take such good care of you that you’ll forget all about your former life and accept this one unconditionally.” I glared again and she giggled and rubbed my stomach again. “Now, you probably noticed that it hurts to use the bottoms of your feet or close your hand. I made this sleeper just for you, just so you would have to act like the baby you are. The hands have a foam ball in the palm. Inside that foam ball is a metal sphere with very sharp needles on it. If you try to close your hands, oh say, to make a fist, they’ll close over the sphere and push the needle sharp points into your hand. The feet have about the same thing on the bottom. The footpads of the sleeper have the same razor sharp needles pointing up from them. If you try to walk or kick anything, it will push the needles into your feet and cause you very intense pain. So, you can see, I expect you to behave just like an infant, let me take care of you and everything will be just fine. Fight me and you will experience pain like you’ve never felt before.” As I listened to my captor describe the bondage to which I was now subject, the idea sunk in. She expected me to act like an infant and let her take care of me. If I didn’t or fought against her domination of me, she would hurt me. It sounded to me like she was psychotic and a sadist. What hit me hardest was that she now had absolute control over all aspects of my existence. That was something that nobody had ever, to my recollection, had. It scared me and when she asked me if I understood, I just numbly nodded and went limp. She released the straps that held my arms and legs down and gently picked me up. I was draped over her shoulder and carried over to a rocking chair. She shifted my position in her arms so that I was lying in the crook of her arm. She sat down and began rocking back in forth. She pulled me close to her chest and began to hum a soft tune. I was so stunned by what had just happened that I didn’t even think to resist. Chapter 4 We sat like that for a while (I couldn’t tell how long because there wasn’t a clock in the “nursery”). I began to feel relaxed, no matter how much I didn’t want to. I was warm, the kind of cozy-warm you feel on cool Autumn night, sitting by a roaring fire. Even though I had just woken up, I felt the inclination to go back to sleep. My eyes began to droop and I began to lose consciousness. I felt something when my pacifier was being unscrewed and when the bottle was attached but, it wasn’t until the liquid began flowing into my mouth that I snapped out of my stupor. I glared up at my captor and was rewarded with a sharp smack on my cloth covered leg. “Now now baby.” she warned “Don’t look at mommy like that. Just relax and drink your bottle.” I clenched my fists reactively and pain shot up through my hand, to my arm, to my shoulder. The intensity was too much for me and I began crying, hiccupping. Seeing my distress, the woman laid a cloth diaper across her opposite shoulder and removed my pacifier. I gagged as I cried and choked on the liquid trying to force its way into my lungs. She rotated me and gently laid me over her shoulder. I felt a quick, rhythmic, series of hard pats on my back, causing the liquid to erupt from my nose and mouth. After my hacking and gagging stopped, she began rubbing my back and patting my diapered bottom. This caused me to realize I had another problem, I had to poop, and soon. The urge wasn’t as bad as it would have been in say an hour or so but, I did need to go. I tried to push myself off her shoulder and accidentally bumped my right hand against her chest, sending new pain up my already injured hand and causing me to void myself right there and then. As I cried in pain, I filled my diaper, her hand on it gave her clear signal as to what happened. She patted and rubbed my bottom, spreading the mess everywhere, smiling almost erotically. She shifted my position on again. Now she had me cradled on one arm with her other keeping steady pressure on my mess. “See, that’s what babies do. They make messies in their diddies for mommy and, this is what mommies do. She said as she carried me over to the changing table. “Mommy’s not going to change your diaper right away baby, you need to get used to the feel of a messy one so you don’t think about it when you make a poopie.” She strapped me to the table, replaced my pacifier and, left me to lay there in my own filth. I tried to make myself comfortable but, the feeling of the load under my butt was always at the forefront of my consciousness. It seemed like hours before she came back. By then, the mess had hardened a bit and was becoming very uncomfortable. I squirmed as she walked into the room. She just smiled and slowly walked over to the table. She took my nose in the knuckles of her first two fingers and gave it a gentle shake. “I think my baby has made a poopie. I better get you changed little boy.” she said, grinning widely She unsnapped the sleeper’s legs and began pulling it away from me. Once she had the two tapes undone, she unfastened one of my legs and fit it into the harness above the table then quickly did the other leg. I was again and still at her mercy. She raised the harness and pulled a large version of a baby wipe from a box sitting nearby. She had me clean of poop, oiled up and powdered in record time. The worst part of the experience was when she laid her head on my chest and began rubbing my stomach, telling me what a good baby I had been for making poopie for mommy. I very nearly died of embarrassment. She re-diapered and redressed me in the sleeper before taking me off the changing table. I was then placed in the feeding position again and a horrid thought went through my head. She had me in the same position that many young mothers used for breastfeeding! I definitely did not want that to happen and I was almost relieved when she pulled another baby bottle up and attached it to the back of my pacifier. I nursed for a while before drowsiness overcame me and I fell back to sleep in her arms. 　 Chapter 5 When I awoke, I found myself lying in a baby’s crib, un-strapped and unrestrained. Though the bars prevented me from rolling out of the crib, I didn’t think they would keep me from climbing out. It was only a few seconds later, as I tried to stand, that I was reminded of the needles under my feet, in the sleeper. Pain shot through my leg and I peed myself as I fell back into the crib. My mumbles of pain must have alerted my captor because she rushed into the room almost immediately. She began cooing at me and reached into the crib, to lift me out. I tried to backpedal but, I pushed my foot against the mattress and the pain shot through me again. When she realized why I was crying, She lifted me out of the crib and put me on the changing table. She strapped my legs into the scissor and began to gently tap the bottom of my feet, sending shockwaves of pain up my legs. “I guess you’re just to little to understand mommy when she told you to not try to stand. I guess I’ll have to help you remember.” She said as she began tapping my feet harder. The pain was excruciating and I almost blacked out several times but, each time I was close to oblivion, she would stop and give me just enough time to come back to my senses. Each time she would tap my feet, she would say, “Babies don’t walk. You are a baby. You can’t walk.” The torture went on for what seemed like forever. When she finally stopped, she bent close to my head “Babies can’t walk, can they?” She asked me. I shook my head quickly. “You are a baby, aren’t you?” She said, gently rubbing my stomach. I nodded, defeated. “You can’t walk, can you?” The smile on her face was terrifying. I shook my head again. “There there baby. Now that that’s settled, let’s change my BABY’S diaper.” As she said that, I realized that I had wet the diaper. I don’t remember if I woke up wet or if I wet it because of the pain but, I was wet. This change went just as the ones before had, lots of cooing and petting. I was in a clean diaper and she laid me back in the car seat she had used when she kidnapped me. I was strapped in and she went over to the changing table. From underneath, she pulled what looked like a giant syringe but, instead of a needle, it had a hose connected to a clear plastic hemisphere. I couldn’t understand for the life of me what it was or what new torture she would use it for. My horror was peaked when she sat down and unbuttoned her blouse, then her bra. I watched, dumbfounded as she used the devise to suction out her breast milk. I almost threw up right there, realizing that the bottles I had been drinking were her breast milk. I tried to throw myself to the side and crawl out of the room but, the car seat would not topple. She stopped what she was doing, the syringe about half full and looked over at me, struggling. “Aww, I know you’re hungry sweetie. Mommy will be just a minute.” she said I watched with growing horror as she finished draining her breast milk into the syringe and filled a bottle with it. She calmly walked over to me and set the bottle down next to me. I saw her reach behind the changing table and pull out the helmet that she had used to calm me earlier. She put it over my head and secured the bottle to my pacifier. The darkness of the helmet was broken when the “Mommy and Baby” scene lit up the screen in front of my eyes. I tried to reach up and get some kind of hold on the helmet but, the straps of the car seat prevented me from getting anywhere near it. Again, I don’t know how long the scene went on, her breast milk now filling my mouth with every movement of my head. I had to stop myself from throwing up (a very difficult thing to do given my situation). As the scene played on, the sounds filling my ears, I began to feel calmer and numbly suckled on the bottle till it was empty. The bottle was replaced with another and my stomach filled as I slowly began to drift off to sleep again, the sound of a mother nursing her infant, the only thing I could hear. Chapter 6 When I awoke again, the first thing I realized was that I was still wearing the helmet but, the “Mommy and Baby” scenes weren’t playing. I tried to roll around but found that I was still in the car seat that my captor had placed me in. I couldn’t tell what time it was or how long I had been asleep but something felt strange. I felt an urge to cry but, I didn’t know why (besides the realization of my indefinite captivity). I thought for a moment, trying to figure out what was wrong when the urge became overpowering and I began sobbing. The pacifier muffled the sound but, it must have been loud enough to attract “Her” attention. Only moments after I had begun bawling, I felt hands lifting me out of the seat and holding me against a warm body. My urge to cry vanished and I felt almost comfortable. My body relaxed against the person holding me as I felt a gentle hand rubbing my back and patting my padded bottom. I felt soothed, like I had never felt before. Suddenly, my stomach began growling. I felt the person holding me jiggle for a second then the back of my pacifier was removed and a baby bottle was attached. As I suckled the bottle, I was shocked. I didn’t feel revolted at the thought of nursing on the madwoman’s breast milk, in fact, it felt almost normal and, that terrified me. When the bottle was done, it was removed and she fiddled with the pacifier for longer than usual. I felt air rush into my mouth as I breathed through the pacifier. I didn’t know what she had done but I was going to give her a piece of my mind. I was about to say something when she repositioned me so, I was laying on her shoulder and, began patting my back. All my tension drained away when she laid me on her shoulder and my intended words died in my throat. My limbs went limp and I placed my head against her neck. I wanted to rail and scream against my captor but, my body had a mind of it’s own. My greatest shock was yet to come. As she patted my back, I felt a great distress in my bowels, then nothing, that was all I felt before I realized that I had just pooped my diaper with almost no hesitation. The realization of what had just happened shocked me into silence. A moment later, I felt myself belch with enthusiasm. I didn’t have to hear my captor’s voice to know that she was pleased with my body’s betrayal. I felt her hand gently rubbing and patting my full diaper. She sat me back in the car seat again and strapped me in. I felt her do something to the pacifier and I couldn’t breath through my mouth again. Finally, before leaving me to my torture, she turned on the helmet and the familiar “Mommy and Baby” scenes began playing again. “What fresh hell is this?” I thought to myself as consciousness began to leave me. Chapter 7 I came to when my stomach began to tell me it was empty. I thought about it for a second and then an overwhelming sadness hit me. I bawled my head off, not even realizing that the gag that had been my constant inhibitor was now loose. I couldn’t focus on anything but the rumblings of hunger. The screaming and crying alerted my captor and, she quickly ran to the nursery. She picked me up, out of the crib, laid me on her shoulder and, spoke to me in a soft, crooning voice. At first, I was comforted by her presence but then, my stomach growled again and my howling began, with renewed vigor. When I started crying again, she took me over to the changing table and laid me on, pulling the strap over my stomach. She unbuttoned my sleeper and checked my diaper, which was wet. Once I noticed that the diaper was wet and cold, my howling increased times two. I was uncomfortable and it seemed like torture. My butt and crotch were cold and wet and, my stomach was empty. These two things seemed like the worst possible feelings. In the back of my mind, I tried to reason, to remember that I wasn’t hurt and I was only in a wet diaper and a little hungry. Every time I tried to focus on that thought, the feeling of sadness flooded my mind and my other thought were overcome by it. It only took her a few moments to change me and re-insert me into my sleeper. To me however, it seemed like an eternity. My stomach was still growling and the sadness was still driving me to bawl my head off. Finally, she must have heard my stomach growl because she said something I couldn’t understand and carried me over to the rocking chair. She removed the loose pacifier and cradled me closer. A moment later, I felt a warm, soft bump in my mouth. I realized it was her breast and I tried to force myself to push my head away but, the urge to begin suckling was too strong. My mouth covered the nipple and I began to nurse with extreme vigor. As the breast milk began flowing down my throat, what was left of my true personality, gagged and wanted to scream, rage and, do whatever it took to stop my body. My body however, betrayed me and continued to nurse. After a bit, she switched me to the other breast and began rocking in the chair. The slow, steady, motion of the chair combined with the full feeling in my stomach calmed me. It was enough that my rational mind began to re-assert itself. I twisted and wrenched myself loose from the nipple, careful not to press my hands against anything. My captor lifted me up and put me on her shoulder. I knew what was coming but I my body betrayed me again and laid limp on her shoulder. I felt the pats on my back and the bubble forming in my stomach. Not long after, I let up a huge burp and a spit up some of the milk. She seemed happy but, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. The language sounded foreign but, I couldn’t tell what it might be. She carried me to a fenced in mat and laid me down on my back. She grabbed a nearby infant toy and positioned it over me. There were strings with glittery and colorful things hanging from them. She pushed and prodded the bangles, saying something. I watched her face and tried to understand what it was she was saying. As I watched her mouth, I saw what I thought were familiar words. I can’t read lips, but some words are easy to read; “Mommy”, “Baby”, “Toy”. A shock ran through me as I realized, she wasn’t using a foreign language. I found out later that the helmet that she’d been using, had been hypnotizing me. The effect was sinister and sly. The program soothed me into feeling like an infant, that’s why being on her shoulder had calmed me. It also scrambled my brain, making regular English sound like garbled, nonsense. The loss of understanding was so profound that I began weeping, not crying like a baby but, weeping like a beaten man. She watched me and seemed to understand. She got up and walked out of the room. Time seemed to stretch out as I lay there on the mat. She came back, carrying a piece of paper. On the paper was written a message: “I can see that my baby still has a bit of the little boy in there. That’s ok though, after a few more times in my special helmet, you won’t even be able to read this message. You shouldn’t try to fight. Just relax and let it happen. I want you to just be a happy baby. The effects of the helmet will be permanent but, I can teach you to speak and as you grow up, I’ll even potty train you. Won’t that be fun?” I tried to rail against my body’s betrayal and managed to swing my arm up but, she just caught it and used my hand to tap one of the swinging bangles. She threw the paper in the trash and began tickling me until I wet my diaper. She said something, I couldn’t tell what though. She got up and walked out of the room, leaving me to “entertain” myself with that damnable toy. I lay on the mat for what seemed like forever. Every now and again, my hand would reach up and bat at one of the bangles, no matter how much I tried to stop it. I pooped my diaper, another betrayal by my body. “Looks like that damn helmet made me incontinent too!” I thought to myself. I was uncomfortable again and I felt that sadness welling up again but I was also tired and, in the end, the tiredness won out and I fell to sleep with a wet and dirty diaper encasing my crotch. Chapter 8 I dreamt of laying in the crook of my mother’s (my real mother) arm as she nursed me and I felt at peace. It didn’t seem wrong because I was a baby but, I realized that it was just a dream when I looked up and my mother’s face stared back down at me. The reality of the dream was so real, so vivid that I didn’t want to leave it. I just wanted to be with my mom and have her take care of me. Reality wouldn’t let me have even that though as I woke up and my captor knelt over me. She spoke in gibberish and at first I was terrified that I was going crazy. I remembered that she had used the helmet on me and it had messed up my head somehow. I felt dirty as she removed the sleeper and carefully changed my diaper. Try as I might to fight the effect of the helmet, I couldn’t raise my hand to fight her off. She watched me the entire time and smiled when she was done. She took off the sleeper with the needles in it and put me into a regular sleeper. She lifted me off the ground and carried me into the kitchen. I saw a highchair and I thought, “Another step into my infantile life.” She inserted me into the chair and slid the tray into place. She walked behind me and I saw a bib fall in front of me and felt it being tied in the back. Horror had been replaced by simple disgust and hate at this point. Nothing this woman did to me scared me any longer. I had come to accept the inevitability of the situation and simply had to endure until I could find a way to escape. I allowed myself to be fed and focused my mind on getting the layout of the house down so I knew where I was going, even if I had to move in the dark. When she finished with the baby cereal, she cleaned me up and pulled me out of the highchair. She took me into the living room and laid me on her lap. I knew what was coming so I didn’t try to fight it. She turned on the television and positioned me to nurse, which my body did, in earnest. I closed my eyes and thought about anything that would let me forget I was suckling on a madwoman’s teat. Finally, the sensation stopped and I feigned sleep and she put me back into the crib upstairs. After she left the room, I tried to move in normal fashion, sitting up, forming words with my mouth but, without sound. I was only marginally successful but, it encouraged me. Time lost all meaning for me over the next few weeks, she applied the damned helmet again and my eyesight became severely unfocused. It got to the point that I could only discern color and shape, light and dark, all other details were gone. I could barely tell when it was day and night because she kept the light on in the nursery. I fought every effort of her to bond with me, kept my mind active by thinking about my school, my family, my friends and last but not least, REVENGE! One day, at least I think it was day, there was a loud noise downstairs. It woke me up and I began to cry. I saw lots of dark shapes in the nursery and couldn’t understand what was going on. I could hear the madwoman screaming something but, I didn‘t know what it was. Someone picked me up and carried me out of the house, to a waiting car. I was scared for the first time in a while and began to cry. I felt someone holding me and cradling me against them. It soothed my fear but not my anxiety. I was taken to another building and lots of bright lights were shined at me. People stood over me and I was pinched and prodded, even pricked, which hurt so bad that I began bawling. I remember changes and feedings but, there was something different about them, they were less smothering and more matter of fact. There was no cooing and more talking to me. I still couldn’t understand what was being said and I still couldn’t respond but, the speakers definitely wanted me to keep trying. After a while, I felt something slimy touching my face and saw a big square with moving dots on it in front of me. I was forced to watch the square for a long time, until I fell asleep. When I woke up, the world seemed a bit clearer, sharper, more in focus. I could tell some details about my surroundings. I seemed to be in a hospital, the smell of disinfectant and the white walls made me wonder what had happened. A nurse came over to me and began to check my diaper. She talked to me like a normal person. To my shock, I could understand some of her words. It was still a bit jumbled but I could definitely understand some of it. I tried to respond, telling her my name and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Quickly, she yelled and a few moments later, this guy in a white lab coat, a doctor I think, came over and began shining his pocked flashlight in my eyes and asking me questions. I tried to focus on what he was saying but it was too much all at once, I said my name again and said, one simple word, “Where”. The doctor and nurse seemed overjoyed and quickly motioned for someone to come. My mother (my real mother) leaned over the bed and looked down into my eyes. I was so happy to see her, I reached up and said, “Mommy!” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. The moment would have been better if I hadn’t started peeing right then. My mother got soaked before she could pull the diaper over my front. I was so embarrassed that I started crying. Mom held me close and spoke soothingly to me. It calmed me but I was still upset at my lack of control in front of her. “ It will be fine honey.” she whispered into my ear The doctors began using the square (which turned out to be a video monitor) and earphones to help undo the effects of the helmet. Luckily, they were able to get my kidnapper to cough up the secrets of the helmet, so a program was designed to reverse it’s effects. After that first session, they weren’t sure that the program they had made would be able to change me back but, after the second session, I was able to fully understand English and even speak a little back. It took a few months before I was back to my normal self, even managed to get re-potty trained. I haven’t managed to get my control at night back but, the doctors say that will come in time. The worst part of this experience is the lasting effects of that damn woman’s program and, that’s the reason Dr. Kline has me writing this journal. Ever since I got out of diapers, I have felt the need to go back to them and be a baby again. I tried to fight it and refuse to give the madwoman a victory but, Dr. Kline says that the events of my kidnapping unlocked some deep part of my psyche that wants to be taken care of. She says that I may never get over wanting to be babied sometimes. My mother knows and she helps me with it when stress at school or life gets too much. I have a special room that we added to the house. That is where I go when I’m feeling low or depressed, mom knows the signal and comes in to take care of her baby boy for a while though, she NEVER breastfeeds me (Ugh, that was gross!). My mom and I are much closer now and for that, I thank the crazy woman who kidnapped me but, I’ll never forgive her for unleashing this infantile desire on me. I am now stuck with feelings I don’t want but, can’t get rid of. I have nightmares that my classmates find out I still like to be babied every now and again and that terrifies me. I finally found out the kidnapper’s name, Emily VanHoustan. She lost her baby due to the physical abuse of her ex-husband and never got over the trauma. As traumatized as she is, she’s still crazy and we sued her for a million dollars. That money is the key to my future. I think I’ll go into law enforcement maybe even into Missing Persons. Maybe I can make a difference and give some other kid a break like the one I got.

Jackie may be the character that we know the most about within her little world, but a lot of her other little "friends" are also busy getting into new and interesting (and, most of all, embarrassing) things all the time! As we start the holiday season (at least in the US - sorry if this feels untimely for our Canadian friends!), let's see what joys Thanksgiving is bringing for Baby Kori. If you aren't familiar with Kori, she is mentioned in various levels of detail in: Big Baby Steps The Haircut Pushing Boundaries I'll post the conclusion to this story the Monday before Thanksgiving! ------ The first thing Kori noticed when she was nudged awake was that her feet were stopped by something as she stretched her legs. Her eyes snapped open, but even before she did she knew enough to remember where she was and that she needed to get her head in the game right away. As if to confirm her immediate thoughts, she saw that it was her mother, or Meme, as she now called her, who had jostled her awake rather than Mummy. “Wakey, wakey, Baby Kori!” she said when she met Kori’s eyes. “Did you have a good nap, little one?” “Yeff, Meme,” she squeaked from behind her ever-present pacifier. In truth, she had not really slept all that well. Trips to Meme and Pop Pop’s house, which happened a couple of weekends a year, always promised a bit of added discomfort. In addition to the three hour drive down to Newport News spent stuffed in her restrictive car seat, she then had to sleep in the quite-uncomfortable pack n play, whose mesh sides her feet had run into moments before. The whole thing made it a little difficult to actually sleep, and especially to sleep well, since it was nowhere near long enough for her to stretch out and instead she needed to try to find sleep scrunched up into a tight ball. She never would have thought she’d long for her crib at home, but these trips had proved that it could be worse. She and Mummy had arrived the night before, as today was Thanksgiving. Her Mummy and their parents switched off with the major holidays, so this year Meme and Pop Pop were hosting Thanksgiving, and Mummy would host Christmas, and next year it would switch. So far, despite knowing it was the holiday, the morning had mostly passed pretty normally except for the extra embarrassment of having to play her baby role in front of her parents in addition to her Mummy. She’d been woken up, fed breakfast, sent off to play for awhile, and then fed lunch before being put down for the nap she was groggily emerging from. “Let’s get you a clean diaper, huh baby?” Meme said, pulling back the blanket that Kori had been nestled beneath and helping her flip over onto her hands and knees. From there, Kori put her hands on the railing of the playpen and pushed herself up, swinging her leg over the side. Meme helped guide her foot down to the floor, which was a few inches below the bottom of the playpen. Once she was down, her mother continued to hold her by the back of the arm as she shuffled a few steps over to her old twin bed, which now served as her changing table when she was at her parents’ house. “Let’s take your onesie off before you sit,” Meme cooed, reaching into Kori’s crotch and fishing around a bit until she found and unbuttoned the snaps, all the while putting enough gentle pressure on the sodden padding underneath to make sure Kori knew exactly why she was due for a diaper change. Kori more or less stood still as Meme worked the white onesie adorned with a unicorn pattern over her head, leaving her standing there with just an orange pacifier in her mouth and her drooping teddy bear printed diaper. Knowing what was expected of her, she sat on the edge of bed before swinging her legs up and situating herself on the waiting changing mat. While Meme gathered the supplies she’d need for the change, Kori had a rare moment where there was nothing expected of her. She took stock of the strange situation she found herself in. Most of the time, she didn’t really dwell on that too much anymore, but weekends like these still had enough novelty that she couldn’t help but dwell on it a little. Looking around, her room looked basically the same as she had left it when she moved out of her parents’ house a little less than 4 years ago. The only thing that really looked out of place was the playpen that she’d just been released from. Sitting on the bed waiting for a diaper change, it was clear that she was really what had changed. Even the name that she called her mother had changed. She hadn’t really realized how important the names Meme and Pop Pop would be to internalize when they were first dictated to her as a way to differentiate between Mummy, which she was now to call her sister Anna, who served as her primary caregiver, and their actual mother. However, after her first time seeing Meme and Pop Pop, she realized that failing to address them by the proper names would count as not acting like a baby and would see her behavior chart turn back to zero. Furthermore, the presence of Meme at the same time as Mummy could prove a little disorienting, and the first few times that she’d seen them she’d also mistakenly referred to Mummy as Anna, which had led to resets as well. As such, she now made every effort, even in her head, to think of her parents only as Meme and Pop Pop. It mostly worked, although they didn’t come up quite enough for it to be fully automatic for her in the same way that she now only thought of Mummy exclusively by that name. It was embarrassing to think about how regressive some of her little automations were, but it was undeniable that working to change her thinking about things like Mummy, Meme, and Pop Pop’s names in her head had helped her improve her ability to advance towards her behavior goals. Similarly, over time the ridiculous lisp that was required of her had more or less become her actual voice. She was pretty confident that she could still drop her voice to her previous octave and annunciate correctly if she were allowed to, but after about a year of needing to remind herself to move to a high pitch and lisp out her words (though her pacifier mostly took care of the latter for her), she realized one day that any time she was put on the spot to answer Mummy she could now do so without having to pay any attention to modulating her voice accordingly. While she maybe should have been concerned by that development, the reality was that she was quite pleased when she noticed, because it was one less way that she could lose her progress towards getting out of diapers and eventually out of this punishment entirely. Her reflections were interrupted by the first pass of the cold wipe across her exposed undercarriage, bringing her attention back to the immediate sensations of the diaper change that Meme was administering. She had to admit that while being wiped was embarrassingly invasive, it did give her skin a welcome break from the vaguely warm clamminess that would surely return when she inevitably started dribbling spurts into her next diaper within the coming half hour. It was only a few more seconds before Meme had doused her privates with baby powder and rubbed it in, furthering her pleasant sense of dryness for the time being. Once the new diaper had replaced the old, her mother helped her sit up again, leaving her feet dangling off the side of the bed. “Let’s get you dressed, baby!” she cooed. Kori had certainly assumed that that would be coming next, but by now she was used to the grown ups needlessly narrating what was happening as if it wasn’t usually entirely predictable. She sat patiently while Meme grabbed an outfit from the large bag that Mummy had brought with enough clothes and diapers to be sure to cover her for their two-day trip and then some. When Meme returned, she wordlessly began working a pair of white tights over Kori’s feet, eventually getting them stretched up to her lower thighs before placing her arms underneath Kori’s shoulders and gently helping her down to a standing position and finishing the job of hiking up the tights well above Kori’s diaper to at least the middle of her stomach. Next, she grabbed a black dress that Kori didn’t recognize. In fact, black was a color she very rarely wore, as most of the clothes that Mummy tended to pick for her relied on infantile pastels or girlish purples and pinks for their color pallets. Automatically, she allowed Meme to guide her arms and head through the appropriate openings. When she reemerged from the brief period of darkness within the outfit, she was better able to assess what she was wearing. It was almost entirely black, but had a white collar and white bow at the gathering point before the skirt. Meme was already returning with another garment when she looked back up, and this time she was adorned with a plain, rather old-fashioned white bonnet. Kori instinctively looked over to the mirror in the corner, and though she wasn’t fully facing it, there was no missing the effect that she was dressed like a small child in a pilgrim outfit. She blushed a little, but realistically she knew there were no outfits that could have been chosen for her that would have come anywhere close to the modest sweatshirt and jeans she’d have chosen for herself, so she didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. Now that Kori was all fixed up, Meme turned her attention to the playpen. Kori watched her bend down and remove the comforter and the pillow she’d just been sleeping with and place them at the head of the bed above. Next she reached in and carefully removed the foam mattress pad with the waterproof cover that was inserted to allow Kori to sleep in a little more comfort, dropping it atop the growing pile of bedding. Now empty, she pressed the release button and effortlessly folded the playpen into a more carryable shape. “Follow me, baby girl!” she directed Kori, who had been uselessly standing there waiting for the familiar changeover to be completed. Meme led the way out the door and into the hallway, with Kori padding along behind her as instructed. Meme and Pop Pop lived in a ranch style house, with the common areas and master bedroom on the upper floor, while Kori and Mummy’s childhood bedrooms and a bathroom took up the space in the basement that wasn’t occupied by the two car garage and the laundry/mudroom, so in just a few steps they reached the bottom of the stairs. One of the baby behaviors that Kori was required to adhere to was to always hold a grown-up’s hand and the railing when going up stairs, and to bump down stairs on her bottom, so she automatically reached out for Meme’s hand. Meme had perhaps forgotten, but when she felt Kori’s hand brush her arm, she recognized why her daughter was doing that and adjusted herself to take the offered hand. “Good girl!” she praised. “It’s always good to be safe on the stairs, isn’t it?” “Yeff, Meme,” she lisped quietly, not exactly taking the same pride her mother was at least pretending to take. They crested the stairs and turned right, where the landing area opened out to the spacious family room that had always served as the centerpiece of the house. Kori once again stood idly while Meme unfolded the playpen in the open area behind the sectional sofa. When she’d finished that, she returned to where she’d left Kori and took her hand, leading her over to the couch. For the first time, Kori noted that there was a bottle on the end table next to it. With her routine thrown off by the unfamiliar surroundings, she hadn’t really noticed that she hadn’t been fed one after her nap as she usually was, but it seemed that that was about to be rectified. Still holding Kori’s hand, Meme settled herself into a corner, then pulled the big baby down next to her. Kori automatically brought her legs up onto the couch so that she could lay across her lap, and soon her head was nestled on the padded arm of the sofa. While her legs and head were comfortable enough on the plush cushions, having her back raised across Meme’s legs rendered the overall position less than comfortable. Even as Kori adjusted herself, Meme grabbed the waiting bottle, and in just seconds she’d removed Kori’s binky and replaced it with the nipple. Kori wasn’t terribly thirsty and was no fan of the formula that she was forced to slurp down with tremendous regularity, but she certainly wasn’t permitted to politely decline, so she got to work downing her seventh bottle of the stuff so far today. As she worked her way through the bottle, Kori had a moment to settle into her surroundings. She noticed that the Thanksgiving parade was on the enormous TV on the far wall. Kori couldn’t actually see if because Meme had slightly manipulated her head so that she was facing towards her rather than the wall with the TV, and the bonnet’s slight interference with her peripheral vision was enough to ensure that the parade was nothing more than background noise. That was probably just as well, because diverting her attention towards the TV, and especially towards “grown-up” shows, when she was supposed to be busy doing even something as passive as drinking her bottle, would probably have been enough to justify a reset of her behavior chart. In their own way, the wonderful smells coming from the adjacent kitchen and dining area were nearly as distracting as the TV. In addition to the obvious smell of turkey cooking, she could also detect some rolls being cooked and other vegetables being prepared. All of it was quite pleasant, even if she knew that she’d be getting none of it, and that her replacement would be far less appealing. Having made exclusive use of them now for more than two years, Kori could now nurse down a bottle in just a few minutes, and so the feeding didn’t last very long. The downside of working at that speed was that she did take in a tremendous amount on air as she did it, and so the burping that Meme provided her with afterwards was more than welcome, even if it did come with a few little comments about how she was a gassy girl each time she let out a quick belch. “Alright, let’s go over to your playpen, Baby Kori,” Meme suggested, apparently satisfied that Kori had expelled enough of the air in her system that she wouldn’t spit up (not that that was actually much of a threat given Kori’s actual age). Kori allowed herself to be guided down from the couch to the floor, then accompanied Meme around the sofa and back across the room to the playpen, where she was helped over the nearly hip-high railings. Once she was fully inside, she lowered herself down to her knees, easily taking up half of the space in the cramped quarters she was confined to. At Mummy’s house, she did have a playpen, but it was a custom wood piece that afforded her probably 4 or 5 times as much space. Even then, most of the times that Mummy needed to confine her to a limited space because she needed to focus on work or cooking without Kori wandering too much during her play, she used a series of plastic walls/gates around most of Kori’s larger toys to create a spacious perimeter in which Kori was to play. As she settled into the tight space, Meme went across to the half wall above the stairs and gathered a few toys for Kori to attempt to entertain herself with. She returned with a pair of baby dolls, a couple dozen small baby blocks, and one of those little maze toys where you move beads over winding wires, setting them down in front of Kori. “Alright baby,” she said, “Meme needs to go help Mummy and Pop Pop finish making din-dins. You have fun in here, alright?” Meme left before Kori even had time to squeak out a “yeff, Meme,” confirming that nobody really cared whether she was actually enthusiastic about the activities she’d been left to so long as she faked it well enough. Now alone in the room, Kori briefly thought through her limited options. She knew better than to let down her guard for even a second, since, should anyone come into the room and she wasn’t actively engaged in her playing, she’d be right back to square one in her quest to earn back some of her maturity. The first thing she did, to avoid any accidental temptation, was turn herself within the playpen so that she had her back to the TV. The parade was still on, and if she wasn’t facing it, there was no way she might accidentally look up at the screen just as somebody walked in. Next, she considered her toys. At Mummy’s house, she had accumulated dozens of toys, including some quite large ones like a miniature shopping cart and cash register set, a mock kitchen, and a stroller that she could put some of her many dolls in. While they weren’t truly stimulating for her, she could jump around between them, which meant she could switch to something new when she felt her ability to actively engage with a given toy or activity waning. But Meme and Pop Pop only had a very limited selection of toys, since she was so rarely here to use them. The danger of losing focus was only heightened by the fact that she’d already spent the morning playing with these toys, and even by the end of that session she’d been mind-numbingly bored, struggling just to maintain enough focus to keep moving the beads back and forth on their predetermined routes. Opting out due to lack of interest wasn’t an option, though, so Kori decided to pick up the two baby dolls and push through as intently as possible. Most of the time that she got her behavior chart reset these days, it was because she more or less just zoned out and stopped playing for long enough that Mummy noticed that she was no longer following the instructions to play. To try to combat that, she’d been working on teaching herself to “zone in” as much as possible. To her, zoning in meant reaching a point where she was just playing with a toy without thinking about how she needed to be playing with it. This basically entailed trying to concoct some sort of compelling story in her head of what was going on with the toys that she was playing with. She was encouraged to make little squeaks and noises for her toys when appropriate, so long as they weren’t recognizable as actual words, but in her head she would provide actual dialogue to accompany the little babbles that she was making on behalf of her dolls and stuffed animals. She knew it was basically no different than a toddler playing pretend, but when she achieved something compelling enough she could actually make an entire morning or afternoon pass pretty quickly and borderline enjoyably. Besides, acting like a toddler was exactly what she was supposed to be doing, so she told herself she was just following directions. This afternoon, she decided to think of herself as the two dolls’ mother. It was an admittedly childish and unoriginal premise, but she didn’t have a lot to work with. She realized quickly that she was slightly up a dead end since she really had no other accessories for the babies to use. At home, she had a toy bottle she sometimes fed her dolls, and she’d mimic the cooing that Mummy often did to her when feeding her a real one. Combined with a burping afterwards, this could easily kill 10 minutes, but here she had nothing to use with the dolls today. Just as she was considering whether to see what numbers and letters were on the blocks, a bit of inspiration struck! Almost accidentally, she realized that both of the baby dolls’ outfits could come off. Since they were from the same set, she decided that she’d switch their outfits. There were enough pieces to the outfits that she’d surely be able to pass a decent amount of time. With some renewed enthusiasm, Kori set down the one that was dressed in a pink dress and got to work undressing the one that was in a blue outfit. This was more of a skirt and shirt combination, with a little bib as well. Kori worked off the bib first, and then the shirt. When she removed the skirt, her fingers hit the velcro on one side of the little diaper that the doll was wearing. Kori wondered if the other had a changeable diaper as well. She could swap those as well, while pretending to wipe them, and that would take even more time! Sure enough, when she had finished removing the headband, dress, and inexplicable little pants that the second doll had, it too had a changeable diaper. This was perfect! Kori took off the first one and made a show of lifting the doll’s legs. She wiped it with an imaginary wipe, making a little high-pitched mutter as she clucked in her head about how messy the doll’s bum was and what a stinky girl she was. Next, she pretended to shake some powder on the baby. At this point, she realized that if she was actually to have the dolls trade diapers, she’d need to switch to addressing the other one. “Just like your sister,” she found herself “saying” to the second doll while making a corresponding noise, “such a smelly girl.” She continued with the simulated change, grabbing the first diaper she’d removed and velcroing it onto the second doll. “Oh, are you changing your dollies’ diapers, Baby Kori?” Mummy suddenly said from behind Kori, causing her to jump a little. She hadn’t even heard her come into the room. “Yeff, Mummy,” she said. “Were they stinky babies?” Mummy asked, not at all trying to hide how patronizing she was being. “Yeff, Mummy,” Kori answered again. With Mummy standing above her while she knelt in the playpen, she felt about a foot tall, even if she was actually the slightly taller of the two. “Just like you are a stinky baby sometimes, huh Kori?” “Y-Yeff Mummy,” she squeaked a little more quietly, now staring down at the floor of the playpen with embarrassment. “That’s right! Ok, can you put your other baby’s diaper back on? We can’t have her making a mess, can we?” “No Mummy,” Kori answered, and she quickly put the toy diaper on the doll. The game wasn’t remotely fun anymore, but she wasn’t about to show that. “Alright, Baby, it’s time for your Thanksgiving dinner now!” Mummy said once the diaper had been closed up. Kori allowed herself to be helped up to her feet, almost dazed as she did. Her zoning in must have worked, as she was surprised that it was dinner time. Even though she knew this was going to be a shorter stint than she might normally have expected, it had only felt like she’d been in the playpen for a few minutes before she had been interrupted. And she’d been so immersed that she’d hadn’t even noticed Mummy coming into the room, so she was certainly glad that she’d at least been distracted by her play rather than something unacceptable like the TV. Once Mummy had helped her out of the playpen, she led her out into the kitchen. Meme was still busy cooking, but they didn’t really stop, instead proceeding through the open-concept room over to the waiting highchair that had been pulled up to the nicely-set dining table. Kori needed no further instructions, and she got up in the highchair. Much like the playpen, this highchair was not sized up the way the one she had at home was, so it was a tight fit when the tray was snapped into place. Kori was thankful that she and the family all had “skinny genes,” or else it would be a truly uncomfortable perch Mummy turned back to the table briefly, and returned with a bib, which she secured around Kori’s neck. Kori glanced down and saw that it featured a comic-style turkey, with the phrase “gobble me up” written beneath it. She always wondered where they found all of this stuff. “Pop Pop is going to come feed you while Meme and I finish up the grown-ups food, ok Baby Kori?” Mummy asked. “Yeff Mummy,” she squeaked. If she had had any choice, of course, she would have declined. This was the moment that she’d been dreading all day. Sensibly, everyone else had not eaten any lunch, but she hadn’t been afforded that option. She saw that the grandfather clock behind the head of the table read 2:30, and she could deduce that her fairly substantial lunch had only finished a little more than two hours ago. Combined with the bottle she’d had after lunch and the one she’d just been fed, she honestly wasn’t even the slightest bit hungry. She also knew that this was not going to be any ordinary dinner. Pop Pop was approaching now with a bowl that probably normally would have been reserved for serving - much larger than the cereal bowl-sized dishes that usually contained her food - and she could see that it was more or less all the way full. Over on the countertop next to the microwave, she could see the empty jars that had once held the food she was about to be fed. She saw what looked like at least 15 jars before Pop Pop got too close and she wasn’t able to see anymore, and while she hadn’t been able to make out each label’s words, she was certain she’d seen pictures indicating multiple turkey varieties, squash, peas, and carrots. Prepared individually, and with some nice seasonings, she was sure that would have made the start of a nice feast, but all blended together in a plain, liquified form, the steaming mountain of mush that was placed down on the tray in front of her was little more than a nightmare. “Alright, here comes your yummy din-dins princess,” Pop Pop said, planting a little smooch on her forehead afterwards. He was surely aware of how unappetizing the food was, but you would never know it from his tone as he plunged the spoon into the bowl. Resigned to her unpleasant fate, Kori opened up her mouth for the first bite. When the spoon dropped its load onto her tongue, it was at least as bad as she’d anticipated. It was almost impossible to describe it. In a certain way it was bland, but every flavor that there was in there was mildly bad on its own, and the mix only seemed to accentuate the worst of each. When eating other meals, she could at least kind of isolate what the vaguely gross, totally unseasoned taste was supposed to be, but with everything mixed together like this, that was impossible, meaning that she couldn’t even place what the unpleasant slop really was. She choked down the first spoonful as quickly as possible, and while she made a face, she gamely opened back up for the next one. It was best to get this over with. For a while, that kind of worked, and she built a bit of a rhythm with Pop Pop that allowed her to probably get about half way through without too much discomfort and only a pretty small amount on her lips and chin. At about that halfway point though, she became so full that she sort of hit a wall. It became harder and harder to put mind over matter and just quickly swallow and move on to the next spoonful. Around the same time, Mummy started to bring over some of the sides of the real meal and set them on the table, which briefly distracted her and caused most of a whole spoonful to end up on her face and bib rather than in her mouth. In theory, that was that much less of the terrible baby food that she had to eat, but it made Kori feel gross on the outside in addition to inside her mouth and stomach. Combined with the taunting of the actual appetizing foods being laid out in front of her, her meal suddenly became even more disgusting. Still, Pop Pop’s onslaught was relentless. Bite after bite, he cheerfully scooped even more into her mouth. Kori started to feel like even when she swallowed, there was still more of it in her mouth, though probably that was just the aftertaste coating each and every one of her taste buds by this point. After 20 minutes of completely continuous eating that felt more like an hour, she mercifully swallowed the last mouthful. She took a long, deep breath. The pressure in her abdomen was immense, as she was well beyond comfortably full. Just as she slumped back to try to find a bit of comfort, Mummy came over. “Alright, Dad, I think you’re needed for carving the turkey. I’ll take it from here,” she said. Kori couldn’t really fathom what she meant, but then as Pop Pop grabbed the bowl and walked over towards the sink, she saw that Mummy had two bottles of formula in her hands. If she didn’t know better, Kori was pretty sure she would have screamed. While they might help her to wash this putrid aftertaste out of her mouth, more of anything going into her stomach was the last thing that she wanted right now. Not to mention that the formula would just leave its own milky, almost sour aftertaste when she was finished. If Mummy had known how much Kori didn’t want those bottles, Kori was quite sure that would have only increased her resolve to give them to her. As it was, Kori was sure that she must have at least some idea of how full she was, and any attempt to put herself in Kori’s shoes would have told her just how much 16 ounces of imitation breast milk would only add fuel to the raging storm. Still, she was completely undeterred, and she strode around behind Kori, tilted her head back, and pushed the nipple against Kori’s lips. The stuffed big baby had little choice but to part her lips and start sucking. As she worked her way through the first bottle, Kori realized she needed to proceed pretty slowly. If she took in too much air, there was some actual risk this time that a burp really could bring a little bit of her food back up, and that would just be disgusting. As she did at some point each day, she found herself absolutely longing for even a bottle of water. She had literally had nothing but this formula to drink since it was first introduced on the third day of her regression, and had come to learn all of its disadvantages. Of course, the first on that list had to be the taste. Prior to this punishment, she probably hadn’t had milk in a decade, and to switch to drinking this strange version of it had confirmed that she just didn’t like it. After so long, Kori almost couldn’t taste it now if she didn’t think about it, but only almost. It also never really seemed to quench her thirst the way water could. While she was given almost a gallon of it a day, which was enough to keep her diapers absolutely soaked at most times, something about the way it was always served warm and always left a film in her mouth often seemed to make her want a drink more after she was done than she had before. And, most importantly in the current moment, it was filling and bloating. While water could sometimes help ease the feeling of a full stomach, this was only making her feel even more like she might burst out of her clothes. Eventually, Kori had made her way through the bottles, and as she lowered her head, she saw that the turkey had made its way over to the table while she’d been stuck staring up at the ceiling. The feast was complete, and perhaps for that reason, Mummy didn’t linger for a burping, or to wipe the excess food off of her face, either of which might have helped her to find a tiny bit of comfort. Instead, she quickly dashed across the room to her purse, and produced her iPad. She came back over to the table, pressing a few buttons as she did so. Approaching Kori once more, she set the device down on the tray. “Alright, baby,” she narrated. “So you don’t get bored Mummy got you a game to play while the grown-ups eat. You keep playing - I don’t want to see that screen lock or you will be in big trouble!” Kori hadn’t been assigned this task before, but instantly she knew how she’d be graded. The consequence of inactivity would be that the screen would lock, and surely when Mummy came back over and saw that, she’d find her behavior chart back at zero even before Mummy would have time to enter her passcode. With the stakes being set, Kori immediately snapped her attention to the screen in front of her while Mummy took a seat at the table. Not knowing how long the screen would stay active before it locked, Kori immediately put her finger on the touch screen and moved it around a little. Assured now that she had at least a few moments, she actually looked to see what game was in front of her. All that the title page of the app said was “Play to Learn,” with a green button underneath that said “Play,” which Kori pushed. After a second of loading, a farm scene came up, with a number of animals either right in the foreground or peaking out of pens or stables. On the side of a screen, stood a farmer. “Which animal says moo?” the farmer suddenly asked, surprising Kori a little. She hadn’t expected the game to make any noise, so even with the volume being set quite softly it had caught her off guard. After a moment’s reflection, she supposed it made sense, since the app was almost surely meant for children too young to read. She looked around quickly. Surely, the grown-ups had heard it, but they had carried on with their conversations as if it hadn’t even happened. No answer bank came up after the question, so Kori surmised that she’d need to touch the cow in the center of the screen. “Great job!” the farmer said when she did so. “Now, do you know what animal says meow?” Kori found a cat lounging by the corner of the barn, and duly selected it, once again being rewarded with the cheaply-animated farmer’s chipper praise. The pattern repeated itself. Kori hadn’t totally taken in that there were a dozen animals on the screen when she started, but even then, going through them only took a few minutes. When she finished, the farmer led her through a game where she had to match upside-down cards of the different animals. That was marginally more interesting, but with only 24 cards, it still posed basically no challenge and only took a few minutes to complete. That rolled over to a game where she was shown a group of each type of animal, and needed to select how many of them were in the group. After the counting game, she was transported to a new backdrop, and this time went through a round of games that centered on identifying, counting, and placing shapes. Before long, she reached some sort of aquarium-like world that seemed to use fish to teach colors. The way that they used the tank for a matching game was perhaps mildly more interesting than most of the others, but it still didn’t bring much to the table. When the third fish game finished, Kori was dismayed to be taken back to the farm, and the cycle began repeating again. Mercifully, the farmer at least asked about the animal sounds in a different order, but now the painfully simple questions didn’t even have novelty. Having lived through it for years without any reprieve now, she was used to being talked to and forced to engage as if she was no smarter than your average toddler, but this repetitiveness was only going to make her time pass that much slower. Looking around, she saw that the grownups were still slowly picking away at their meals, all the while chatting idly and seemingly not paying her any mind. Perhaps knowing that the screen lock could essentially monitor Kori’s effort for her, Mummy seemed not to be watching her for activity level at all. Fortunately for Kori, the game at least required a little less of her brain and attention than playing the way she was required to did, so while it was maybe even more boring, it wasn’t quite as exhausting. Even though this game was terrible, she couldn’t help but reflect on the irony of now being forced to focus on a video game, when her inability to stop doing so had been her downfall. Kori genuinely loved video games, and had been the classic “gamer girl” in many ways. In high school, she and her friends had spent many late nights exploring all of the latest releases. By college, she perhaps should have noticed signs of a problem. While she graduated easily enough, she’d skipped more classes each year to keep playing. Even some of her friends had suggested that she might want to try to lighten up on how much she played, but she’d dismissed it. When she went home after she graduated, she’d had every intention of getting a job, but then Fortnite had been released, and she’d found herself spending almost all of her time playing it and none of her time applying for things. And, since it had a phone version, she’d even played it at work during a brief period of employment at a convenience store her parents’ friends owned. She’d never fully admitted it then, but by the time that she’d peed herself a couple of times and Mummy demoted her to diapers, she did actually have a problem (not that the punishment fit the crime in her mind). Two years of digital detox had definitely changed some of the ways that she thought, but she’d be lying if she said that getting back to being able to play games (real games, not this baby stuff) was part of the reason she was working so hard to earn her maturity. Eventually, Kori sensed herself feeling more and more uncomfortable. She was still so full, and time to digest really didn’t seem to be helping at all. Beyond that, the baby food on her lips and chin was becoming increasingly dry, turning it into a caked-on crust. While it wasn’t really her fault, she felt like a disgusting slob, especially watching the others neatly eating their food with their forks and knives while occasionally dabbing their napkins to the corners of their lips. While she was incredibly full, she couldn’t help being jealous of their dining experiences. As she fought her boredom and her discomfort, she couldn’t help but wonder what was taking them so long. It seemed like they were occasionally grabbing an extra bite or two of a dish that had particularly caught their fancy, but they were mostly just chatting away while sipping their wine. Because of the volume of the game and her need to be paying at least somewhat close attention, she wasn’t really able to track their conversation too closely. What she could see from the clock was that they’d been sitting there for 45 minutes already. She suspected that she’d managed to eat more actual food in less than half the time, even if she didn’t need to do any chewing. Still, she had to endure another 15 minutes of the mindless game, going through the cycle of the worlds a couple times before Mummy, Pop Pop, and Meme finally got up with a series of groans and started to bring the dishes out to the kitchen. After the first round, Mummy came over and took a quick look at the iPad. “Oh, are you learning about colors?” she asked Kori in a thick coo. “Yeff Mummy,” Kori chirped, though of course learning wasn’t really the best word for what she was doing. “Can you show me, princess?” Kori picked out the purple fish, as the game had just prompted. “Good job, Baby Kori! I’m so proud of how smart you are!” Mummy’s syrupy praise was obviously a tease, and yet she almost delivered it convincingly enough that you’d think she actually meant it. “Now,” she continued, “I’m sure you want to keep playing, but we have a special treat for you!” Kori certainly wasn’t shedding any tears as Mummy took the iPad off of her tray and back over to her purse. However, if previous holidays were any guide, she was about to be fed some sort of dessert. And sure enough, she watched Mummy go over to the fridge and remove a pudding cup from it. Kori sighed. Holiday desserts posed a unique dilemma for her. On the one hand, the assertion that they were a treat was more or less true. While it was still always something she could be spoon-fed, it was basically the only time that she wasn’t fed actual baby food the whole year. Things like the pudding she was about to get weren’t exactly gourmet, they were so much better than she was used to. However, she was never given it at a time when she was anything less than completely and utterly stuffed. The result was that she wasn’t actually able to enjoy the indulgence she was allowed. With no option to defer, she decided to try her best to savor the pudding that Mummy was now walking over to her with. “Are you ready for some yummy pudding, sweetie pie!” Mummy said as she arrived. “Yeff Mummy,” Kori said, trying to see if sounding enthusiastic could actually make her a little more enthusiastic. Mummy plunged the spoon into the cup, stirred a bit, and then emerged with a sizable glob. Kori opened up, and in it went, though the size of the spoonful meant that a little bit hit her top lip and stuck outside her mouth. Closing her mouth around the spoon as Mummy removed it, she was rewarded with the remainder of the spoonful staying in her mouth. It was, for sure, tasty. It was so much sweeter than anything she usually got. In fact, it was the sort of sweet that only little kids really like, but since she wasn’t used to any sugar at all, it didn’t really strike her as actually being overdone the way that it immediately would have if she’d had it while eating a couple of years ago. For now though, she savored it, letting the chocolatey sweetness coat her entire mouth before she swallowed. The swallow, though, practically brought her back to reality. For one thing, Mummy already had the next spoonful on its way towards her mouth, so she needed to open back up. The quickness with which she was fed could be a small mercy when she was being fed gross baby food, but in this case it stopped any attempts to savor the treat. But with the swallow, she’d realized that maybe getting things over with wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Sure, the pudding tasted amazing by her standards, but pumping the heavy, sugary dairy product into her already full belly had been just as painful as she’d might have imagined. In fact, by the end of the cup, she was glad that it was pretty small. The sweetness of the pudding was becoming somewhat overwhelming, even if it was preferable to the runny slop she’d had an hour ago, but her stomach was so full that she felt like she might explode. Finally, mercifully, Kori was able to get back the last bite. Exhausted, she slumped back as far as the restrictive high chair would let her, enjoying the moment without her pacifier to take a couple of deep breaths. “Are you a little full in your tummy, Baby?” Mummy asked, chuckling a little. “Let’s get you something to help wash that down with. I’ll be right back.” Kori was so dismayed she almost reacted, which certainly wouldn’t have been a good idea. She couldn’t believe that they were going to give her even more milk. Surely Mummy knew that that wouldn’t help at all, right? “Here we go!” Mummy said when she returned, planting the bottle into Kori’s open mouth. Even this full, she automatically closed her lips around it. Finishing that bottle was akin to torture for Kori, but somehow she managed to slowly fight her way through it. She slurped down the last bubbly bit of the formula with a mix of triumph, relief and agony, once again opening up her mouth for some deep breaths as Mummy eased the nipple out from between her lips. “All gone! You were a thirsty girl, huh baby?” Mummy asked. “Yeff Mummy,” Kori replied obediently. She hoped to god that that required answer wasn’t interpreted as wanting more. “Yes you were! Yes you were!” Mummy cooed, getting louder and moving closer before planting a patronizing kiss on her forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You were a very messy eater!” Kori was relieved to hear that she’d be getting cleaned up instead of getting anything more added to her overtaxed digestive system. Getting her face cleaned would indeed help her feel a bit better. She was quite a mess. While she couldn’t see herself, she could see that her bib was a total disgrace, with the brownish main course drying and somewhat covered by a few stray bits of pudding. Meanwhile, she could feel the dried food making a fairly wide, crusty ring around her mouth, plus globs of fresher, thicker pudding on both her upper lip and chin as well. She could even feel a drop or two of milk that had leaked out from the corners of her mouth during her latest bottle. Mummy walked away briefly, depositing the bottle in the sink before heading over to her purse once more. This time, she returned with a travel packet of baby wipes. Taking one out, she somewhat brusquely took it to Kori’s face. Apparently, she needed to scrub a little to get all of the drying food off. After a second wipe that seemed to Kori to be more akin to a rinse than the initial scrubbing, she did finally feel a little fresher. “There we go, allll better!” Mummy exclaimed, placing the dirty wipes on the tray and removing the similarly soiled bib from around her neck. Finally, Mummy removed the tray that had held Kori in the seat. Looking down, she really took in just how ridiculously oversized she was for the seat. Her diapered bottom was basically stuffed into every last inch of the width of the chair, and the headrest was actually supporting the middle of her back. Even her slender legs had practically been touching the bottom of the tray, and the waist strap was so hopelessly overmatched by the thickness of her diaper that they hadn’t even bothered to try to get it around her. Considered in this light, she was certain that the tiny, restricting seat had probably been contributing to her discomfort. Gratefully, she accepted Mummy’s hand and climbed out of the seat, feeling her cramped legs loosen a little as she started to follow her lead.

I know, I know "Another new story from Kasarberang that's going to take literal years between chapters" Allow me to explain. I write as a hobby, one of a great many hobbies that my brain alternates between, right now Writing is the hobby in focus so hopefully I'll be able to pump out a few chapters of this story and maybe the other ones as well. Unfortunately I make no promises as to how often this story or any others will be updated, it might be once a week or more: This was the case for "Just A Checkup" before I wrote myself into a dead end (I'm planning to rewrite that story and continue it at some point) and it might be way less frequent "Babied By The Sitter" (Still in progress). I'm not a writer, I'm just a guy who does writing sometimes Anyway, I had this idea for a story and I hope I can do it justice. As always feel free to remix, modify, redistribute any of my stories however you like. If you like the setting, characters or anything else feel free to use it. I wont mind, in fact I'd love to see what you can do with my ideas. So PM me if you do make anything that you decide to release. (Tags will be updated as the story progresses.) My Time At The Everland Farm All Characters involved in a sexual situation in this story are at or above the age of consent, even if their ages aren't directly stated. Also this story is entirely a work of fiction and absolutely nothing in it actually happened. Art by: Ruperallmighty Email: Ruperallmighty@gmail.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ruperallmighty Art Officially Approved to comply with DD rules by: DailyDi. My name is Daniel I'm 22 years old and this story is of my time at The Everland Farm. The story starts at my house, I had just gotten this mornings mail and saw a letter addressed to me. It read: "Work getting you down? Need a break from the stresses of daily life? Need a vacation? Than come on over to The Everland Farm for a nice change of pace! Experience four weeks free of the stresses of daily life! And with this special offer you can enjoy all four weeks 100% FREE! Lodging included." It even included a valid bus ticket. This letter didn't apply to me at all, I enjoyed my job working as a developer in a small Indie Game studio, the stresses of daily life were minimal at best and I much preferred to be at home. Not to mention a 100% all expenses paid vacation seemed super sketch to say the least. Probably some shitty timeshare or some pyramid scheme of some sort, neither of which I wanted any part of. So I threw the letter on my couch with all the other junk mail, intending to either throw it away or shred it. == A few days went by and I had spoken to some friends and family about the letter. Almost everyone unanimously said I should go, which honestly didn't surprise me, everyone's always telling me I need to get out more and here is seemingly an offer that gives me no excuse but to do just that. Whenever I expressed my concerns they just replied "Just record everything that goes on, that way you're far less likely to get mugged." despite the fact that my state has specific laws against recording out in public unless you receive consent from every single person that would be in the recording. It's' an interesting law and is far stricter than most, it's good for privacy but a lot of people are against it, which frankly I can understand. Anyway eventually people bugged me enough about the vacation that I decided to just do it. Even my work told me I should go. At this point I needed a vacation from all the people telling me I needed a vacation. I packed pretty light, not expecting to need too much. I packed my cellphone, a pair of wired earbuds, some spare clothes, A DVD player and some DVDs as well as an emergency battery pack which should get me through the month if used sparingly. Everything fit in a nice backpack that I keep around for travel, despite this being the first time I actually ever used it for that. Usually I just used it to carry around my work laptop with me so I could work a little while away. But I did originally buy it for travel. Once I was packed and ready to go I set out for the bus-station which was only a quick walk from my house so it didn't take me very long to get there, less than five minutes if I had to guess. I gave the driver my ticket and soon I was off to The Everland Farm, to my surprise I was the only passenger on the bus. That could easily be explained away by it being 10am on a weekday, not exactly the most desirable time to take a bus somewhere far away, since most people had work to do. I put in my earbuds and set my phone to play my favorite artist Big Penny, which has gotten me through a lot of long bus rides in the past. This specific album titled: "Heads or Tails" featured other artists such as Jiggo-J and DJ MEMEBOY. It truly was and still is an underrated album. Personally I think it's Big Penny's best work, his other albums were entertaining, but nothing quite had the same feel as "Heads or Tails" did. I think it's cause it's the only time as of writing this that Big Penny, Jiggo-J and DJ MEMEBOY have collaborated on an album together, It's very obvious that they gave their best with this album. "Heads or Tails" came with a total of 26 songs with a total runtime of 5 hours and 15 minutes and only cost $5.99 when it first released. It was the very first album to have over 3hours of content with a price tag below $36. "Last Stop Everland Farms, if you got this far without getting off you either missed your stop or got the wrong bus!" said the bus driver. Yet again Big Penny got me through another otherwise boring bus ride. I thanked the driver and was on my way. The bus didn't stop directly in front of Everland Farms they stopped quite a bit away actually. I could very easily see where the farm was, but it was a bit of a walk to get there. Once I did finally arrive I took a seat on a nearby bench to catch my breath before getting up and looking around. Right away I was surprised at the absolute size of the property it must've been on at least five acres of land. There's no way this is the place I was going to be staying for a whole month, it's far too nice to be completely free, either that or it really is some timeshare or pyramid scheme. You could tell this place had been around for awhile, some buildings looked fairly new, or at least newly painted and others looked like they'd been sitting there for decades, all the buildings had a Little House On The Prairie style and vibe to them. Most of the buildings were double to triple the size of regular buildings I was accustomed to. It had been a few minutes so I decided to get up and start looking around, there didn't seem to be anyone nearby so I figured I'd take a look around myself, kinda give myself the grand-tour of the property, even though I knew nothing about it. I walked around a little before stopping in front of a building which was bigger than the rest, which is saying something since all the buildings on the property were huge. Since I was feeling especially adventurous I decided to let myself in. Right away I noticed the inside of the building felt far larger than the outside, but I'm sure that was just an optical illusion, since all houses felt far bigger on the inside than they did on the outside. Everything downstairs was pretty standard, Standard Living Room, Kitchen, Dining Room. The furniture was far larger than I was used to but I was usually the shortest guy in the room, so maybe this is the standard for people of normal or above average height, I could see that. After having a good look at the downstairs I decided to look upstairs, which presented me with my first major challenge. The steps were far steeper than I was used to, it was like every step was 2 or 3 normal sized steps stacked on top of each other. I found myself lifting my legs up way higher than I was used to when climbing up stairs. I also went up these stairs far slower than I usually would, to reduce the chances of me falling forward or backwards. After climbing up what felt like thousands of stairs I finally reached the top of the staircase. There was a long hallway with doors on each side, all of them with a wooden sign on them labeling what the room's purpose was, which makes sense since this was a public vacation spot, I imagine it'd be a pain to have to explain where every room was every single time there was a new customer. I walked up to the second door on the right labeled "Emily's Room". Letting my curiosity get the better of me I playfully turned the doorknob fully expecting the room to be locked, but to my surprise the knob turned and the door opened with ease. The inside of the room was pink with white trim, even the walls were painted pink with the corners painted white. There was a computer desk, which really made me feel small, I could barely even reach the top of the desk, I knew I was short, but I didn't think I was THAT short. I had to sit in the rolling office chair and put the height up all the way in order to sit at the desk like a regular person. atop the desk sat an old ldrn PC, with matching beige keyboard and mouse. Running an old version of Backdoor OS. I could have gone and looked through the files and search history of the computer, but I decided against it. I was staying here after all and if anyone were to catch me doing that I'd probably be in for a very bad experience. Plus the bus only stops here once a month, which makes sense, considering that's the minimum amount of time you're allowed to stay, otherwise they charge you for leaving early. Looking around the room further I noticed something laying on the floor, walking over to it revealed that it was a bra. It was Sea Foam Green, very frilly and most importantly, it was huge. Holding one of the cups up to my head for size and the cup was larger than my head. "So, I have one question. Why the fuck do you have your faced pressed up against my bra?" Shouted an unfamiliar voice. coming from the doorway. ====End of Chapter 1==== I hope you enjoyed! Please tell me what you think! Your words encourage me to write more frequently. TXT My Time At The Everland Farm ~ A Kasarberang Story (Reader Download) PDF My Time At The Everland Farm ~ A Kasarberang Story (Reader Download).pdf ODT My Time At The Everland Farm ~ A Kasarberang Story (Reader Download).odt

Hello DD community! As some of you might already be aware I made a very similar list awhile ago. The purpose of this post is to remake that list with better formatting, more information and overall make it easier to read and update. User Suggestions Welcomed! Here's How To Suggest A Story! Simply Personal Message me here on DD with a link to the stories you'd like to submit as well as relevant tags. Feel free to also submit modified tags for stories already in the list if you want to. I'll put them in this post as soon as I read the message and verify that the tags are accurate and the story belongs here. I will credit you by default so if you don't want to be credited please explicitly say so in your message to me. I write stories and a lot of them would fit perfectly on this list, why aren't they here? If your story isn't properly tagged I probably will look past it, unless it has a title that makes me think it might fit this list. There are other reasons too, I am only one guy after all. If you have a story that's not on this list and want it to be added feel free to submit it using the information above. Why so many Archive.org links? Archive.org or as it's more formally known "The Wayback Machine" or "The Internet Archive" is a website that allows you to archive entire webpages. I will be using this for preservation purposes. This way if a story goes down (which has happened before) or if DD goes down entirely (which is unlikely) these links will still allow you to continue to view these stories even after such an event. Alright Here's the list! (presented in no particular order.) AUTHOR LIST Chlorobaby All include (Femdom, Forced Regression, Chloroform, Kidnapping/Capture, non-consensual sexual acts) and most include: (forced Breastfeeding, forced bottlefeeding) Nanny Kink (Archive.org link), The Hard Sell (Archive.org), The Crush (Archive.org link), The LandLady (Archive.org link), The Adult Baby Unit: Part One (Archive.org link), Part Two (Archive.org link), Part Three (Archive.org link), Bed and Breakfast: Part One (Archive.org link), Part Two, (Archive.org link), Part Three (Archive.org link), Part Four (Archive.org link), The Job Offer (Archive.org link), Nurse Becky's Slave, (Archive.org link), Cathy's Captive (Archive.org link)The reason these are all grouped together is they were written by the same author and all contain very similar tags. Kasarberang (Me) My Time At The Everland Farm (Femdom, Forced Regression, Slow Regression, Force Feeding, Forced Bottlefeeding, Forced Breastfeeding, Blackmail, Non-con, Giantess, Lactation) Babied By The Sitter (Femdom, Slow Regression, Forced Regression, Bottlefeeding, Humiliation, Babysitter, Wetting and more.) (Archive.org link) Just A Checkup (Forced Regression, Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding and more!) (Archive.org link) FullDiaper Mommy Clair & I (Femdom, breastfeeding) This one is ongoing and looks promising. (Archive.org link) Raping Excuses (Femdom, Forced Regression, Forced Diapering, Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding) (Archive.org link) Maggie's Diner (Femdom, Forced Regression, Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding, Force Feeding) (Archive.org link) Non-Grouped List Flooded. (Femdom, Forced/Coerced Regression, Slow Regression, Breastfeeding, Humiliation) (Archive.org link) Crybaby (Femdom, Forced Regression, Breastfeeding, Handjob, Chastity) (Archive.org link) The Day Care (Femdom, Forcefeeding, Edging, Cock "Milking", Enema) (Archive.org link) Nerissa’s Home for Diaper Girls (Repost) (Femdom, Diaper Dimension, Coerced Regression, Mental Regression, Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding, Enema, Bladder Torture) (Archive.org link) Stockholm Syndrome Baby (Femdom, Forced Regression, Mental Regression, Hypnosis, Kidnapping, Breastfeeding, Bottlefeeding, Catheter) (Archive.org link) Tourist Troubles (Repost) (Diaper Dimension, Kidnapping "adoption", Bottlefeeding, Sissification, Short, Incomplete) (Archive.org link) Baby Care Class (Remixed) (Femdom, Forced Regression, Humiliation, Torture, Forcefeeding, Breastfeeding, Masturbation, Kidnap/Capture) (Archive.org link) Her Sister's Baby (Femdom, Coerced Regression, Feeding, Masturbation, Bottlefeeding) (Archive.org link) Baby Candy by Baby Jennie (Femdom, Forced Regression, Bottlefeeding, Sissification) (Archive.org link) Training her baby (Sissification, Breastfeeding, Chastity, Bottlefeeding, Forcefeeding) (Archive.org link) Day at the beach (Bottlefeeding, Humiliation, Regression) (Archive.org link) The Domme on the Bus (Femdom, Humilation) (Archive.org link) Unlucky Day Turned Lucky (Diaper Dimension, Force Regression, Bottlefeeding, Breastfeeding) (Archive.org link) Immigrant Tale (Diaper Dimension, Femdom/Mommy Dom, Forced Breastfeeding, Sissification,Forced Regression) (Archive.org link) Simple bedwetter to full time baby (Forced Regression, Regression, Mommy Dom, Breastfeeding, Forced Bottlefeeding) (Archive.org link) Feeding With Jen (Forced Wetting;Femdom, Coerced Regression) (Archive.org link) At The Wrong Place At The Wrong Time (Diaper Dimension, Slow Regression, Forced Regression, Breastfeeding) (Archive.org link) From Teacher to Toddler (Forced Regression, Mistaken Identity, Bottlefeeding, Breastfeeding, Forcefeeding) (Archive.org link) Weekend At Betty's (Forced Regression, Femdom, Masturbation, Diapers,  Forced Bottlefeeding) (Archive.org link) Submitted by: Mcraft | On The Job Training (Femdom, Enslavement, Forced Regression, Sissification, Forced Anal, and Bondage (Archive.org link)

**About this story- Hi! Guys, I’ve been writing stories over the years but have taken a break. Decided to do something a little different. Change roles a bit. Hope you guys enjoy it… I’d love to get more ideas to write, send me positive feedback, let’s see where this goes. ** Chapter 1- My new life has been one huge roller coaster. I’ve always had a vision of finding a daddy & becoming his forever baby girl. I was a picky baby girl, always looking for the perfect looking daddy, it took me years- but I finally found him. We spoke for a few months & he seemed to be just the one, checked off all the boxes of what I wanted as my daddy dom. But there was just ONE small problem, he has a wife. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share him, I wasn’t bi, nor curious- but he said mommy wouldn’t want to be sexually involved with me, so he made me feel a little better, she would just expect me to be more of the servant at the house, cooking, cleaning, laundry. I said I could do that! They came into town to meet me one day & we spent the day together, having lunch, shopping & just getting to know each other. We chatted about what was expected from each other if we were going to move in… they were from up North, & they were well off, so I would be moving in with them. I’d get to take 2 of my dogs & live out my baby life with them. At 30, I wasn’t 100% sure what I wanted in life. I’ve been wearing diapers as a fetish since I was 19, been sneaking them on since I was 14, only to drown out the dreams I’ve been having since I was 12. I’ve had my fair share of relationships but nothing lasted. I never imagined that I would be 30, still interested in diapers, I thought that when I would start wearing at 19, the phase would finally die out, but nope. I always looked for daddies online, wore my diapers every so often, and was an online baby girl for those daddies, but no one was ever ready. When I realized, I couldn’t hold a relationship nor keep a job for very long, I realized I needed to be dependent on someone, & that realization came in the form of being someone’s baby girl & becoming a baby slave of some sort where I’d wear diapers pretty much 247, as most daddies out there wanted. I was scared to start this adventure but I knew it’s what I needed in my life. I couldn’t amount to anything so I thought this would be the best option. The expectation laid out in front of me was what I thought would be simple… I’d be a diaper slave, around the age of 3 or 4. I would be regressed to a toddler & treated as such, however I’d still have teenager responsibilities- clean, cook, do laundry, take care of the dogs ( all eventually, until then I’d have a nanny/ housekeeper doing things), along with helping mommy as her assistant. I was to wear diapers 24/7, drink from a bottle, still attached to her pacifier, I’d be allowed big kid food but cut into toddler pieces, eat in a high chair, & still have a sex drive, an extreme one at that! I guess I could handle that. Move in would happen within 3-4 weeks. We needed time to get my room together & I packed up all my stuff, sold everything & get my papers in order ( turn in the apt, sell my things, close the bank account & make mommy & daddy my conservator). Story was, I couldn’t take care of myself any longer & needed supervision, & “rehab” to rehabilitate my life. Daddy had a doctor friend within the lifestyle that could help sign all the papers, & his secretary (slave wife) is a notary, so everything looked legit. That’s it, I was in it for good. I was legally theirs. I never saw 3 weeks pass so quickly, I sold about 95% of everything I owned & my apt was turned in. Daddy & my new mommy came to get me in their RV, easier to move the remaining of my things & transport the dogs. We had a 12+ hr trip back to my forever home or so I thought. Chapter 2- Chapter 2- It had actually taken 6 days to get home, on the way home we had stopped to see one of daddies special doctor friends. I was put through a surgery that was to help me with my new life, as I later found out I was given the gastric sleeve surgery to help me lose weight over time, along with a snip to my bladder to weaken it for good, & to add to it all, they they snipped a piece of my vocal cord, so I always have a type of squeaky voice to seem like a younger voice as well as to where I also couldn’t complete my words as well. That was a surprise to me as I wasn’t allowed to talk since I got to the Drs office, & since then I’ve had a pacifier locked in my mouth that had a cap on it that was removed to insert a long straw/ catheter to allow me to drink my liquid diet. During the time I had chatted with Daddy I had mentioned that I was overweight & had a desire to lose a good amount of weight. I guess he took it seriously & made it easy for me to lose that weight w/ the surgery. I was told I’d lose between 90-120lbs within 6-8 months. It also came as a surprise when they told me no more solids as their slave. I was shocked as we had talked about me being allowed to eat regular food. They said they didn’t want me to regain the weight later, so that my liquid diet would be controlled by all the calories & vitamins I’d need for at least the next few years. By the time we were home, I was already in pull-ups & being changed about 6x a day. Daddy was annoyed by this & said I was becoming too much work, & wanted me to have less changes. That I had more important things to be trained on than to stop & get changed, or fed. So I was put into an extra thick diaper with a stuffer in it, & hoped it lasted at least 8 hrs, therefore I’d go to 3 changes a day. Somehow I was always messy at my changes & figured there was something in the food I was being given, along with a diuretic. After a few weeks I was messing at least 2-3x a day, & my diapers were constantly full. It had been a month since I arrived & since my surgery & I had lost about 20 lbs already. I was put on the scale once a week to make sure I was losing weight, they wanted to make sure I was getting the correct calorie intake as well. Everything looked like it was on track. I was losing weight & couldn’t believe it, it had been 15+ years since I started gaining massive weight & 8 yrs since I was under 230lbs. At the end of the day, I didn’t care how I was treated, as long as I knew I’d be skinny again, one day. Would I ever be able to show it off like I wanted, doubt it- but again, I’d be healthy again too. Over this past month, life was almost normal other than being diapered everyday, having a pacifier locked onto me & my liquid diet, daddy making me orgasm daily- I was still allowed to walk, communicate in some way, watch TV, sleep on a normal bed, get online, keep an extensive journal as daddy wanted, I was living a DL life, I just had a few chores to do around the house as well, but little did I know things were about to change. I knew that I was going to become a sexual slave to a point, daddy wanted to keep me as horny as possible, especially to getting used to my diapers after an orgasm. When I was alone, I loved cumming in my diaper, but I would get turned off right after, & changed almost right away, & daddy didn’t want that, I had to learn how to stay diapered after I came, I mean I was going to be diapered 247 after all. Every morning I woke up messy, so daddy would wake me up with a wand until I orgasmed. He then cuddled with me, patting my diaper & reminding me that it was ok to stay in my diaper until I calmed down enough from the session I just had, & ronce I was calmed down, I was taken out of bed & waddled my way down to breakfast. A routine he wanted me to get used to is always eat while I was messy- it would remind me of my place, that I had no control of when I’d get changed, & to remind me of the baby I was eventually becoming. After breakfast I was taken to the bathroom for a shower & back into a fresh diaper & expected to have it wet within 3 minutes of being changed. This was done so I was never very long in a dry diaper, & also to make sure I was constantly pushing on my bladder. That was another rule, the constant forcing of pushing myself to pee. I have a Fitbit watch, which has an alarm that goes off as a vibration on my wrist reminding me every 10 mins to push on my bladder & try to pee. Daddy found on Etsy a baby motivational 32oz bottle that was modified for an adult nipple on it with a strap around the neck that can be locked onto my wrist, meaning it wasn’t going anywhere. I was expected to empty the bottle within the hour. By the end of that hour, I would be pretty wet.

A little horror anthology for the month of October. A sinister presence infantilizes and humiliates those who abuse the spirit of Halloween, altering their lives forever as punishment. *** Part 1 Eliza and Sophie strutted down the street on their way to their college Halloween party, shivering a little in the cold late-October air. Their costumes weren’t doing much to keep them warm. Eliza wore a skimpy devil outfit – a short, crimson dress with a plunging neckline to show off her cleavage, fishnet stockings, and devil horns on her head. Meanwhile Sophie was wearing a slutty schoolgirl costume that was, if anything, even skimpier – a white shirt that was little more than a bra tied under her generous breasts, a plaid skirt so short that her white cotton panties flashed with every step she took, and a pair of thigh-high stockings over her legs. There were going to be a lot of hot boys at the Halloween party after all, and even though Eliza and Sophie both had boyfriends, they weren’t dead. There was nothing wrong with a little flirting. There was nothing wrong with a little something more either. But as they strutted along in their heels, a shadow passed over them, unnoticed, and the changes began. Eliza’s dark red dress started to lighten, becoming paler and paler until it was a pure, radiant white. The hem of her dress puffed out, frilly and flouncy like a tutu. Her fishnets transformed into white stockings, and her devil-horn headband turned into a fluffy halo held above her head by a piece of wire. Her makeup vanished. Her long and luscious dark hair tied itself into a plain but pretty ponytail. Then her thong began to thicken, pushing her thighs apart and crinkly noisily as it changed into a bulky disposable diaper, the bottom of which just peaked out beneath the hem of her dress. Sophie’s outfit was changing too. Her skimpy white top lengthened and spread out over her midriff and arms while her skirt connected to her stockings, turning her slutty schoolgirl costume into a set of one-piece cotton pyjamas, pink with a pattern of teddy bears and rattles and baby bottles. Her makeup vanished as well, a large pink pacifier appeared out of nowhere to clip itself to her front, and her long blonde hair rearranged itself into a pair of high pigtails sticking out from either side of her head. Finally, her panties started to thicken too, ballooning outwards underneath her one-piece and giving her a bulging diaper butt so absurdly large that it made Eliza’s nappy look discreet by comparison. The two girls continued to toddle down the street, towards the shouts and laughter of the party they could hear not far in the distance. They might have screamed in shock and fear at the changes to their costumes had the shadow that passed over them not also decided that their naughty little minds needed altering too. Eliza, the devil turned angel, felt a pleasant tingling in the back of her brain, and her superior, confident smirk turned into a dim-witted grin. Any awareness of the changes to her clothes were blocked in her mind, and she was filled with a delightful certainty that once she got to the party, everyone was going to be so impressed by how sexy and naughty she was. A bad little devil girl. She could just imagine herself giving the middle finger to all those stupid women at her old church (her parents had insisted she attend all the way up until she was eighteen), and even whipping up her skirt and flashing her thong at them. Sophie, the sexy schoolgirl turned toddler, grinned as well and shoved her thumb into her mouth to suckle on. Her mind tingled delightfully as her thumb bobbed wetly in her mouth and drool ran down her chin. Sucking made her feel like such a big girl. She couldn’t remember exactly, but she was pretty sure she had a reputation for being good at sucking. In fact, weren’t her professors so impressed by her sucking skills that they gave her lots of good grades? She pumped her thumb enthusiastically between her plump, pouting lips and let out a little gurgling giggle. She’d heard some of her lecturers would be at this party. Maybe she could use her special talents to bump herself up another grade or two… But the party didn’t go as they’d planned. No sooner had they arrived and made a beeline for a group of handsome looking boys, the shadow, flitting between one overgrown tot to the other, made another change. As their potty training was permanently erased, both girls immediately started putting their nappies to good use. Eliza tried in vain to clamp down on her bladder, even as she squealed in horror and confusion when she noticed how her sexy devil costume had been suddenly replaced by a ridiculously little-girlish angel outfit, but it made no difference at all. A rush of pee-pee flooded into her diaper, yellowing the pristine white padding and causing it to droop noticeable beneath the hem of her short, tutu-like skirt. It was even worse for Sophie. With a powerful cramp, she fell into a squat and, her eyes still wide from the shock of seeing her skimpy schoolgirl uniform replaced by a set of toddler pyjamas, she started filling her nappy with an enormous mess. She grunted and strained helplessly while her already bulky diaper bulged out behind her, the heavy, drooping load obvious even through the cotton seat of her one-piece. The crowd around them erupted into laughter and the two girls, bawling their eyes out, toddled out of the house and back onto the street. Eliza took the lead, wailing and snivelling like a little girl, mourning the loss of her confidence and her reputation, praying she was having some horrible nightmare while Sophie waddled bow-legged behind her, all the knowledge she had ever learned since the age of two slipping out of her head as she stomped along as fast as she could. For two gorgeous women with the maturity of toddlers, it might have been dangerous to waddle all the way home without their Daddies to hold their hands and keep them safe, but thankfully their sodden and stinky diapers were enough to keep any would-be predators away, and it wasn’t long before they were back home and falling into their boyfriends’ arms for a cuddle and a cry (and two much needed nappy changes). From then on, their lives were much more wholesome. For Eliza, all the women at her old church were delighted to see the little sinner back in their midst as an innocent (if rather oversized) baby girl holding tightly onto her Daddy’s hand, and they loved nothing more than to pinch her cheeks and coo over her and offer to change her nappy when, as happened quite regularly, she loaded her Pampers with a smelly mess in the middle of the service, much to her squealing dismay. Meanwhile, there was no more college for little Sophie, let alone school. Any education beyond kindergarten was no place for a girl who couldn’t read or write or count past three, or even keep her pants clean. So to her horror, Sophie ended up at a special adult school where her boyfriend, her Daddy, would drop her off every morning for a day of colouring in and playing with dollies and having the chirpy young staff constantly probing and prodding her pants to check for pee and poop. Those were their new lives, all their dignity and maturity and independence gone forever. No more sexy Halloween parties for little Eliza and Sophie. But maybe if they were lucky, they’d get to go out trick or treating next year. Part 2 “Boo!” Jessica shouted as she jumped out from behind the door and into the path of her little sister, who let out a terrified scream. “Hahaha! Come on Suzie, aren’t you supposed to be a big girl now? It’s Halloween! Only dumb toddlers get scared of someone shouting ‘boo’ for God’s sake. You sounded scared enough to wet your…. Oh. My. God!” The nineteen-year-old doubled up with laughter at the sight of the growing wet stain on the front of her little sister’s skirt, while Suzie herself started to whimper and cry. “What’s going on here?” their mother asked, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “Suzie, what’s the matter sweetie?” “Oh nothing, mum,” Jessica answered, still laughing nastily. “Your seven-year-old daughter just pissed her fucking pants, that’s all!” “Oh Suzie, it’s okay,” their mother cooed gently, pulling her younger daughter into a hug. “We’ll get you cleaned up. Accidents happen, sweetheart… Stop laughing, Jessica! And I don’t want you using language like that in front of your sister!” “Sorry mum, I just can’t help it,” Jessica said, looking down at her still-crying sister with a smirk. “Maybe you were too soon to let this one out of diapers, huh?” “That’s enough, Jessica! Get out if you’re not going to help!” “Like I’d want to help change that little pants-wetter’s pissy undies,” Jessica scoffed, leaving the room and heading off down the corridor. She didn’t notice as the shadow passed over her, but she stopped halfway to her room, deciding that she might as well go to the toilet herself. She smirked as she entered the bathroom and saw the pack of Goodnites under the sink – the ones that Suzie still needed at night. She knew she was probably being a little cruel to her sister, but honestly the girl was seven years old and she still peed in her pants! It was ridiculous! Jessica slid her jeans and underwear down her legs and turned around to sit on the toilet when she suddenly felt a horrible chill run down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she was overcome by the feeling that something was lurking right behind her. Immediately, she staggered forwards and spun around, instinctively tugging her panties and jeans back up and looking about fearfully. But there was nothing there. Just the toilet sitting there innocently. The smell of pee reached her nose, and Jessica blushed crimson when she pulled down her jeans a little and saw the small wet spot on the front of her undies. It was hardly anything – just a tiny dribble, but it made her feel especially humiliated after what had just happened with Suzie. This was different though, she told herself. She’d just been interrupted while using the toilet, that’s all. It wasn’t an accident. Jessica took a deep breath, slid her panties back down to her knees, and turned around again to plant her bare bottom on the toilet. But then it happened again. Barely a moment after she’d turned her back, there was that overwhelming sense that something was behind her. A monster. She squealed, yanking up her underwear and trousers again and falling forwards onto the floor in her haste to look behind her. And this time, she left more than a little spot of wetness in her panties. A strong spurt of wee-wee came out of her pussy, soaking the front of her underwear and leaving a noticeable wet patch on the crotch of her jeans. Jessica was breathing heavily, looking around, wondering what on Earth was happening. There was something lurking by the toilet, she was sure of it. But nothing appeared, and after a minute or so, she got to her feet, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the piss-stained clothes she was now wearing. The urge to pee was getting stronger and stronger, but now even the thought of trying to sit on the toilet sent a thrill of fear through her body. She went over to the shower instead, stepping inside and, feeling utterly stupid, reaching to pull down her jeans and underwear for the third time. But this time, before she even had time to tug them down, the sense of overpowering fear came back. Her bladder let go. Jessica stumbled back into the centre of the bathroom as the dark wet patch on her crotch blossomed outwards and streams of warm pee-pee ran down the legs of her jeans, soaking into her shoes and socks. For a moment she could only stare down at herself in disbelief and horror. But then she started crying at the top of her lungs. She’d pissed her pants. No different from Suzie. Worse. She hadn’t done it because someone had tried to jump out and scare her. She felt utterly pathetic. She was actually frightened of some stupid, imaginary potty monster! And that was how her mother found her, Suzie in tow, blubbering like a baby with her jeans utterly drenched with pee. None of them would ever know how or why it had happened, but over the next few days, the reality of Jessica’s condition became clear. She had developed a sudden, overwhelming phobia of using the toilet, and by the time all the Halloween decorations had been taken down, her mother had had no choice but to go out and buy her nineteen-year-old daughter a large pack of adult nappies to pee and poop in. “Is it attention? Is that what you want, Jessie?” her mother demanded as she filled Jessica’s underwear drawer with diapers. “Do you want Mummy to start wiping your little butt again?” Jessica didn’t know which was worse – her mother’s scornful attitude, or the way her little sister kept trying to make her feel better, parroting their mother’s old words of comfort by telling her she’d “be a big girl who peed and pooped in the potty someday”, but that it was okay if she wasn’t “ready for the toilet yet and preferred to use her pants”. Jessica wished desperately that she could use the toilet again. She cried when she wet herself and she cried when she messed herself, and she cried especially hard when her mother moved her little sister’s old diaper pail into her room, but no matter how disgusted and humiliated she felt, it wasn’t enough to get over her terror of the toilet. The only place Jessica felt safe going potty was in her pants, and so that’s where she’d be peeing and pooping for the rest of her days. Maybe it would even teach her to be a little nicer to others. Part 3 Katie strode down the street angrily, sneering at the ridiculous decorations adorning the houses on either side of the road. Fake cobwebs, bedsheets made to look like ghosts, and those horrible jack o’ lanterns sitting outside every front door with their stupid, leering faces. She hated Halloween. Children knocking on everyone’s doors, students dressing up in dumb costumes and making lots of noise while everyone was trying to sleep, her boyfriend trying to coax her into being more ‘festive’. It wasn’t like it was Christmas! It was just some dumb excuse for supermarkets to sell lots of sweets! “Happy Halloween!” said a man who was passing her. Katie scowled back at him, and when she came across a pumpkin sat on the pavement a few yards later, she gave it a good kick. It caved in with a satisfying crunch, splitting its sinister grinning face in two. And as Katie walked on, she didn’t notice the shadow that crept after her along the pavement. The twenty-five-year-old barely noticed the changes at first. Her gait widened a little. Her walk seemed to become slightly more unsteady. But she put it down to the gin and tonics she’d had earlier. How else was she supposed to get through this stupid holiday? But the puffiness was growing between her legs, getting thicker and thicker, until Katie realised she was practically waddling as she walked. She stopped dead in her tracks, wondering if she’d somehow gotten more drunk than she’d realised, but then she heard the crinkle, and she looked down at her waist. She gasped. Something big and bulky was bulging out from under her pants. What the hell had happened to her underwear? She ducked behind a large plastic skeleton propped up by a stick standing in front of one of the houses and, glancing around to check there was nobody nearby, she pulled her trousers down over the puffy thing that had appeared somehow beneath them. Katie’s eyes went wide, and she had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Then she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. The underwear she’d put on that morning had gone. Instead there was an absurdly thick, old-fashioned cloth nappy around her waist, held in place by two oversized safety pins and covered in pair of orange, semi-transparent plastic pants, decorated with little ghosts and bats. Katie stared down at the enormous diaper she was wearing for five whole seconds before she came to her senses. She didn’t know how this had happened or who could have pulled such a trick on her, but the fact was she was out in public with a huge towelling nappy on her bottom. She couldn’t let anybody see her like this! She had to get home right away! But when she reached for her pants to pull them back up over her newly padded rear, her hands closed around thin air. Peering over the bulging white cloth around her waist, she saw that they had gone. She was wearing nothing below the waist except her shoes, socks, and her giant nappy and Halloween-themed plastic pants. Katie let out a squeal and started toddling as fast as she could back down the street, heading for the apartment she shared with her boyfriend. Her face turned scarlet as she passed a group of teenagers, who burst into laughter at the sight of her, but it was nothing compared to how hard she blushed when she felt a dribble of pee begin to leak out into her nappy. She squealed girlishly again, trying in vain to clamp down on her bladder – but it was as though she had no control at all! Tears began to spill down her cheeks as she toddled along, feeling her diaper slowly filling up with her pee-pee. It soaked into the thick cloth so slowly that Katie could feel it sloshing about in her pants as she ran, and the sharp ammonia smell reached her nose and made her screw up her face in disgust. Worse, she felt a sudden cramping in her stomach, and then without warning, she let out a loud, rumbling fart. She sobbed. What the hell was happening to her?! Katie hurried home as fast as she could, ignoring the laughter and the stares, the looks of concern or even pity, and soon she was standing in front of her apartment with her face streaked with tears. She hastily unlocked the door and rushed inside, slamming it shut behind her. Then she reached desperately for her nappy, intent on tearing it off and sprint to the toilet. But it was too late. “Hi, sweetheart!” her boyfriend called, walking into the hall just in time to see her body drop into a squat. “Unngghhhh!” Katie grunted as she started pooping in her pants like an oversized two-year-old. She screwed up her face as he body strained, totally beyond her control, to push an enormous stinky load into her ludicrous Halloween diapers. It seemed to take an age, but once the final wave of disgusting mush had entered the seat of her nappy, she looked up at her boyfriend tearfully to tell him what had happened, to plead for his help. Only the words didn’t come out of her mouth. “Goo goo ga ga ba ba pffff!” she babbled instead, a little bit of drool spilling from her lips. She gaped in surprise, and felt a cold chill run down her spine. Why couldn’t she talk? But more frightening still was her boyfriend’s expression. He was smiling at her in amusement. “There’s my little darling,” he said sweetly, in the voice that adults reserved for very young children. “It looks like someone made a Halloween present for her Daddy!” “Ah ba ba goo ga ga ba!” Katie babbled, the meaningless prattle spilling from her lips without her consent. She could only stand still in horror while her boyfriend turned her around and pulled out the back of her nappy and plastic pants to peek inside. “P-U!” he exclaimed. “Such a stinky girl! My little Katie-poo really filled up her pumpkin pants, didn’t she?” He turned her back around and wiped the tears off her face. “But that’s okay, princess. Daddy’s here to get you all cleaned up.” Katie was too shocked and confused and afraid to stop him as he laid her down on the floor and started tugging her plastic pants over her diaper and off her legs. “Let’s get your special Halloween pants off, sweetie,” he cooed gently, “but don’t worry, you can wear them again in just a minute!” He put them to one side and undid the comically large safety pins holding her nappy in place, careful not to prick her as he did so. “There we go. Good girl for sitting still, sweetie!” Katie let out a soft whine. She felt like she was going mad. This had to be some sort of nightmare. That was it. Or maybe someone had spiked her gin and tonic. Surely she wasn’t really getting her nappy changed by her boyfriend on the floor of her own apartment? This had to be a hallucination. She felt the front of her diaper getting pulled down, and she couldn’t help but look at it. It was stained yellow, clearly drenched with her pee. Her nostrils were assaulted by an increase in the smell of her piss, and something yuckier. She clenched her eyes shut before she could catch sight of the horrible mess she knew must be sitting in the seat of her pants, and tried desperately to will herself to wake up while her boyfriend lifted her legs into the air by her ankles and worked away at her filthy bottom with a pack of baby wipes. “Daddy’s gonna get you all nice and clean,” her boyfriend cooed in a sing-song voice, “and then it’s time for din-dins! Daddy bought dozens of jars of pumpkin flavoured baby food for his little princess. Yes he did! I know it’s your favourite, sweetie, and I got enough to last weeks and weeks!” He slid a fresh cloth nappy, just as thick as the last, beneath her bottom and started to seal her into it. Before Katie knew it, he was sliding the orange plastic pants back over her bulging diaper butt. “And I’ll let you wear your pumpkin pants tomorrow too, baby” he promised, with the air of someone offering a special treat. “And the day after. And every day after that, I expect, unless they need cleaning.” He chuckled and tickled her under the chin. “Daddy knows how much you love Halloween!” All Katie could do was cry. Her life was pumpkin themed from that day on. Everyone seemed to see her as a baby – her friends, her family, her boyfriend. And although they all had different ways of treating her (some liked to pinch her cheeks, others liked to bounce her on their knees), they all knew one thing for certain. Baby Katie loved Halloween. Part 4 The living room was crowded with students, all dancing and drinking and shouting over the music to each other. They were dressed as witches and vampires and blood-spattered murderers, strapping firemen and scantily clad cheerleaders. But Jake had his eye on a sexy little nurse. Specifically, on the way her short white uniform rode up over the curve of her bottom as she danced with her friends in the middle of the crowd. Jake grinned to himself. He was feeling cocky. He adjusted the broad cowboy’s hat on his head, hooked his thumb into the waistband of his jeans, and slid into the crowd, right behind the girl in the nurse’s outfit. As he reached out, smirking, to give her butt a quick squeeze, there was no way he could have noticed the dark shadow that flitted behind him. But he did notice the hand that had suddenly grabbed his own bottom. He started and looked over his shoulder, but his face relaxed into a jaunty smile when he saw the girl standing right behind him with her hand on his ass. This chick obviously wanted a piece of him, and who could blame her? He was hardly going to say no either – not when he saw her pretty face, her luscious brown hair tied back in a ponytail, the way her large breasts bulged out of her cute (if a little sensible) blue cardigan. She had a bag over her shoulder too, but he couldn’t think what her costume was supposed to be. She smiled at him, but it wasn’t the kind of smile he’d been expecting, and Jake felt the beginnings of confusion stir inside him. She wasn’t really groping his ass either – she was patting it, almost as if she were trying to feel for something. And she wasn’t looking at him suggestively; in fact, there was something patronising about her smile that Jake didn’t like at all. “Just checking you, sweetie,” she cooed, her tone exaggeratedly pleasant. Jake felt himself going red. Why was this girl talking to him like he was four years old? “Checking…?” he repeated. “Why are you… What do you mean?” She cocked her head at him in puzzlement. “Your big boys pants, Jakey,” she said slowly, as though she was trying to explain something very simple to someone very stupid. “I was checking to see if you’d made a stinky in them.” “Made a… Made a what!?” he stammered, his face going even redder. The music seemed to have died down, and some of the people around them were turning to stare. “I haven’t… I don’t…!” “I know you haven’t, little one!” she praised, her tone cloying and sweet. “What a good boy for keeping your big boy pants clean!” There were some titters and giggles around them, and Jake started getting angry. Who was this mad bitch?! And come to think of it, how did she know his name? Was this some kind of prank? “But how about pee-pee, sweetheart?” the girl went on. “You had a lot to drink earlier. Have we done tinkles in our trainers again?” She reached towards his crotch and Jake staggered backwards. “Stop!” he cried. “You can’t just grab me there! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Jakey,” the girl said, suddenly stern. “I’m your babysitter and I have to check your big boy pants to see if you’ve made any wetties. I don’t want you wandering around the party with a soggy bum-bum.” Dozens of people had turned to look at them now, and many were laughing. Jake gritted his teeth. Why was this stupid girl trying to humiliate him in public like this? She was treating him like he was still in nappies or something! Quite suddenly, the girl rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently, and before Jake could make a move to stop her, she had stepped forward, hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers, and yanked them down his legs, revealing his boxer shorts to the whole room. Only when Jake looked down, he realised that he wasn’t wearing boxers. He was wearing what were clearly a pair of oversized Huggies pull-ups. The crowd erupted into laughter all around him, but Jake could do nothing but stare down in horror and disbelief as the strange young woman probed at the thick, crinkly training pants between his legs with her fingers. He felt like he was in shock. This couldn’t be happening. His drink must have been spiked or something. “All dry!” the girl said with obvious surprise. Then she straightened up and looked at him seriously. “Jakey, do you have to go potty? Do you have to do a widdle wee-wee?” Jake shook his head furiously, cringing at her baby-talk. She raised her eyebrow at him sceptically, and it was only then that Jake realised something. He did have to pee. Badly. In fact, he was squirming on the spot. He felt a sudden spasm in his bladder, and his hands flew to his crotch, pressing down on the padding there. The urge to pee grew so suddenly that it was almost overwhelming, and Jake’s squirming turned into a full-on potty dance as he hopped ridiculously from foot to foot with his jeans around his ankles, clutching desperately between his legs. He looked up into the young woman’s smirking, satisfied face and felt the words spill from his lips before he could stop himself. “I hafta go pee-pee!” he cried, not even noticing the way his words came out in a ludicrous, babyish lisp. Everyone at the party was watching them now, watching and laughing as the fully grown man pranced about on the spot, clutching at his pull-ups, trying to hold in his pee like a three-year-old struggling with his potty training. “Good boy for telling you babysitter,” the girl said calmly, ignoring the laughter all around them. Then she reached into the bag she was carrying over her shoulder and pulled out a large, lime-green training potty, exactly like the kind toddlers used. She set it on the ground in front of him and looked up expectantly. “Noooo….” Jake whined, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt like he was going crazy, but there was no way he was going to pee on a toddler’s training potty in front of everyone at the party – all the people he went to classes with, all the girls he was hoping to score with. But then he felt another spasm in his bladder, and a spurt of pee soaked into the padding of his pull-ups. Some of the little stars on the front began to fade. Jake let out a sob and toddled forwards, another trickle of pee-pee entering his pants, until he was standing right over the potty. Immediately, the girl, his babysitter, tugged his Huggies down to his knees and lowered his bottom directly onto the ridiculous little toddler toilet. At once, Jake’s bladder released, and the tinkling sound of his pee hitting the plastic bottom of his potty mingled with the shrieks and guffaws of laughter all around him. He looked up and saw the sexy nurse from earlier doubled over and crying with mirth at the sight of him. Jake burst into tears. “There, there, little guy,” his babysitter crooned, examining the training pants that were sagging between his thighs. “Oopsie! Looks like someone didn’t quite make it. But that’s okay. You still did most of your pee-pees in the potty! I’ll only have to give you a little spanking tonight.” The rest of the night was a blur for Jake. He could vaguely recall how his babysitter had made him empty his potty into the grown-up toilet, how she had turned his bottom bright red over her lap before telling everyone she needed to get him home for bedtime, how he had toddled through the streets in his sagging, pissy-wet pull-ups while holding onto her hand, letting her lead him back to his apartment – which was now, somehow, hers. It was strange finding out the details of a life that everyone else seemed to think he’d been living for ages. A life where he was nothing but an overgrown toddler who still hadn’t mastered the toilet. A life where people recognised him as an adult, where he was still expected to attend all of his classes, but where it was well known how much of a baby he was when it came to his toileting skills. “You still have a babysitter?” girls would ask him, mockingly. Or else, “You’re in your twenties and you’re not even potty trained yet? Ew!” But Jake could do nothing but toddle through his new life under the constant supervision of his sweet but strict ‘babysitter’, enduring her constant poking and prodding of the (often soaked and sagging) pull-ups between his thighs, hoping and praying that someday he would learn how to use the toilet again. But unfortunately for little Jakey, that day would remain forever out of his reach. Part 5 “Amy, can you get the door?” Amy’s mother called from upstairs. “It’ll be trick or treaters!” “Can’t you do it?” Amy called back, scowling. She hated trick or treaters. What gave them the right to think they could go marching around banging on everybody’s doors demanding sweets? “I’m busy! Do it quickly or you’ll miss them!” “Ugh, fine!” Amy got up from her chair in the living room, and stomped out into the hallway and towards the front door, making sure to take her time. But by the time she reached it, she could clearly make out several large figures through the translucent glass window beside the door. Far too large to be children, in fact. Amy hesitated, but the people must have seen her outline through the glass. It would be far too awkward to turn around now. Besides, if her mum found out, she’d be furious – and Amy was relying on her for a free room since she’d finished college. She opened the door. “Twick or tweat!” Amy stared for a moment at the people standing before her. Two men and three women, all around her age – except for the woman dressed in the witch’s outfit, who looked a little older and stood a few steps back from the others. One of the men was dressed in a cheap-looking pirate costume complete with plastic sword and eyepatch, while the other wore a black one-piece with a skeleton design. Both of the women were dressed as matching yellow and white princesses, and all four of them had big, slightly vacant grins on their faces. Amy started to laugh. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick of treating?” she cackled, taking in the sight of the five people dressed in costumes that looked more suited to five-year-olds. The four eager smiles slipped from the men and women’s faces, and Amy saw one of the girl’s lips tremble. But the woman dressed as a witch scowled at Amy and strode forwards. Amy took a step back instinctively. This woman didn’t have the vacant look in her eyes that the others had. She looked more like a stern schoolteacher. “Don’t be so cruel, young lady!” she hissed, coming right up to the doorway. “I’m taking the little ones out for some trick or treating, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t laugh at them!” “Littles ones?” Amy laughed derisively. “They’ve all got to be in their twenties at least!” The witch woman looked furious. “They’re just a bit special, that’s all!” she whispered waspishly. Amy’s face reddened as she realised she must have been laughing at four mentally challenged people. But she quickly brushed her guilt and embarrassment aside. “And you just expected the rest of us to play along?” she demanded. “I was expecting to open the door to a group of children, not a load of special needs adults dressed like toddlers. This is a holiday for real ‘little ones’, not overgrown babies!” The woman’s eyes flared, but Amy was already slamming the front door in her face. She didn’t notice as the shadow slipped in through the doorway as she turned her back. But as she stormed down the hallway, she suddenly became aware that something was pushing her legs apart, turning her walk into a waddle. She looked down and let out a squeal. Her jeans and top had gone. In their place was a sparkly pink dress, ruffled and plasticky like a cheap costume, just like the ones the two ‘special’ girls had been wearing. Sequins on her chest spelled out the words “Little Princess”. At that moment, there was another knock on the door. Amy looked around in fear and confusion. A few seconds later, her mother came hurrying down the stairs, not even blinking at the sight of her adult daughter dressed up in an oversized little girl’s princess costume. “That’ll be Miss Hayward!” she said brightly, hurrying past Amy and opening the front door. Amy could only stand there with a knot of anxiety in her stomach. What was happening?! Why was she dressed up like a little girl ready to head out trick or treating?! “Happy Halloween!” her mother said as she saw the witch woman and her special needs entourage. “My, my! What pretty princesses you are! Just like my little Amy! And what a scary pirate! And a frightening skeleton too! I’d better give you all some sweeties or else I’ll be in trouble!” Amy heard the giggles of the men and women, and saw the satisfied smile of the witch as her mother handed out candy. “Is your little one ready to join us then?” the witch woman asked pleasantly. Amy felt a shiver run down her spine. Join them? What did that mean? What was going on? “Oh yes!” her mother replied, looking around. “What are you doing over there, sweetie?” she asked her daughter in a sickly-sweet voice. “You’re going trick or treating with your little classmates tonight, remember?” “My… My…” Amy stammered. Her classmates? She realised she was trembling. Something unnatural was going on here, she was sure of it. But her mother just chuckled, took her by the hand, and led her out the front door in her pink princess outfit for all to see. Amy tried to resist, to dig her heels into the floor, but it was as though her legs were acting on their own, following obediently after her Mummy. “Well aren’t you a pretty little princess!” the woman called Miss Hayward cooed, but her eyes shone darkly in a way that made Amy quite sure she was fully aware of what had happened, and delighted in it. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight!” Amy felt a trickle of pee escape her bladder and enter the bulky thing she was wearing around her waist. She could feel her warm urine soaking into it. A nappy, she thought. She was wearing a nappy. She stared in horror into the smiling face in front of her, and at that moment there was a sudden, powerful cramp in her belly. The last thing Amy saw before she screwed up her eyes was the witch woman’s smirking face staring into hers. Then she had squatted down, thrust her bottom out behind her, and started grunting loudly as an enormous, disgusting mess rushed into the back of her thickly padded pants, completely beyond her control. “Nooo…” she sobbed as she loaded her diapers like an overgrown two-year-old, her mother and Miss Hayward smiling indulgently, and the other four adult toddlers looking down at her with dumb, vacant grins. This couldn’t be real! It couldn’t be! “I’m sorry about this,” she heard her mother saying, and as the last of the yucky load dropped into the seat of her nappy, Amy looked up from her squatting position. “Do you mind if I go and change her before she heads out?” “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Miss Hayward tittered, her eyes glinting maliciously as they took in the sight of Amy still squatting down in the driveway, the seat of her nappy sagging below the hem of her frilly pink dress. “I expect all our special little ones will have loads in their pants by the end of the night. Besides, I bet Amy’s no stranger to dirty diapers, is she?” “Oh no,” her mother laughed. “I swear Amy spends half her life stomping about in poopy Pampers! Sometimes it feels like she waits until she’s in a clean nappy just so she can make a stinky in it straight away!” The two women laughed while Amy stared at them with her mouth slightly open, still in shock at what had happened, disgusted at the sensation of the pee and poop that she had just deposited in her own pants, and terrified at what she was hearing her mother say. She tried to speak, but her words caught in her throat and all she managed was a faint gurgling. Her mother helped her to her feet and patted her on her diapered rump as she passed her daughter over to the witch – the woman who had suddenly become Amy’s new teacher at the local special needs school. It was only once the six of them were toddling (on in Miss Hayward’s case, walking) hand in hand down the street that Amy was able to find her voice. “Are you a witch?” she asked fretfully, her voice now high-pitched and little-girlish. The woman chuckled. “No, silly! This is just a costume. I’m not a real witch. But I do know a little bit about magic, about the spirits that roam the land on All Hallows’ Eve, and it was your misfortune to encounter one. It decided you needed to be taught a little lesson, and I have to say I agree. I think getting to spend your days as one of my special little girls is just what you deserve!” Amy whimpered. “How… How long?” she asked. The woman laughed, a sweet tinkling laugh that sent a thrill of horror through Amy’s body. She turned to the girl in the pink princess dress and said, a horrible grin spreading across her face, “Only the rest of your life!” That was when Amy started to scream. But a large pink pacifier quickly shut her up, and she spent the rest of the evening toddling from door to door with her new teacher and her new peers, her diaper drooping lower and lower between her legs as she continued to make potty in her pants, her bladder and bowel control wiped away forever. It was how she spent the next Halloween too, and the one after that, and the one after that. Poor little Amy was a never-grow-up case, one of Miss Hayward’s sweet, special little ones, and she’d have a lifetime to reflect on her rudeness. If it had a mouth, the spirit of Halloween would have laughed as it darted away. There were more victims to find, more people to alter – those who would abuse the spirit of this day had to be punished, and there were so, so many to choose from.

Hi everyone. I don't know if this is really going to be any good, but I have been working on it for a while and I wanted to share it with other ABDLs. If you want to support the Academy stories (there's gonna be a few, I hope!) or get early access to chapters, please go to this Patreon link. It should explain things a little better. Oh and please tell me what you think in the comments! ~Mia~ -------------------- Academy I By Mia Moore "Fear not the star, but the magician that sets it in the sky." -The Source Chapter One Ai Sinclair pressed her back to the tree, gasping for air. Her lungs burned from the inside. The cold November air made her hairs stand on end, even as sweat matted her bangs to her forehead. She turned her head around the trunk of the tree to see the two men in black coats walking toward her. She had to keep running. In a quarter mile, there should be a gas station. She could call the police. With another deep breath, she ran onward through shrubbery and dodging tree branches. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she burst through the tree line and found herself in an expansive parking lot. The lights of the gas station in front of her glowed in the twilight. She took off toward the door as fast as she could. Freedom was behind an automated door, in the hands of an underpaid worker behind a pane of bulletproof glass and only fifty feet away. Forty five feet. And then Ai's feet gave way as the jolt of electricity tore through her spine and seized her muscles up, stopping her in her tracks. The momentum carried her forward, and she skinned her knees on the asphalt of the parking lot. Like wolves circling their fallen prey, the two men in black coats approached and orbited their quarry, one with his hand to an earpiece in his left ear while the other scanned a full perimeter for anybody who might have witnessed. The distant sound of a car engine grew closer. Ai climbed to her hands and knees, but her body twitched uncontrollably. Even if she could force herself to stand up, she wasn't sure she could stay that way. The parking lot around her swayed in her vision and she started to crawl toward the gas station doors. "H-help! Someone!" Ai's voice was harsh in quiet evening air. A man picked Ai up from the ground and stuffed her through the side door of a large approaching van. He slid the door closed behind her, and the van continued like it had never stopped. Though the two men stayed behind in the parking lot, there were several more waiting in the back of the van. The tingling subsided quickly in Ai's fingers and toes. She dove at the door to escape, but two more men held her back as the van sped down the street and toward the freeway. "Let me go! You'll go to prison if you do this! You'll get caught! You won't get away with it!" Nobody said a word to her; the four men all wore dark black slacks with long black coats. They had shaved bald heads and ear pieces in their left ears. It was definitely a uniform, and this was definitely an organized operation. Two of the men forced Ai to the floor of the van and clicked restraints around her wrists and ankles that had been bolted to the frame of the van. As Ai pulled on the restraints, she started to panic. No matter how she thrashed and kicked, she couldn't break free. Every bump the van hit send shivers up her back and it was starting to give her a headache. "Lemme go... please, let me go. I don't know what you want, but... but you can have anything, okay? I don't have much, but... but my purse has some cash, and..." Tears were forming in her eyes. "Please let me go, please..." The movements of the men were methodical, directed, rehearsed and practiced. Ai's begging changed from sobbing words to muffled sounds as a colorful pacifier was pushed between her lips and held in place. A slight burning stung her lips as the glue bonded, and the then a creamy liquid began to ooze across her tongue from the nipple of the pacifier. Ai’s struggles started to fade. The ceiling of the van had colored lights inside, and the frosted glass made them look fuzzy, and pretty, and so very interesting. Her arms felt heavy, her legs felt heavy, her head felt heavy. But she wasn't tired; she was fascinated. It was okay to be fascinated, wasn't it? To find something beautiful in a time like this? Her skin tingled on the outside like her insides had when she'd been electrocuted. Somewhere far far away from her, she could feel herself being undressed. Ai looked up at the brown-haired woman towering over her with a warm smile on her lips. She was wearing a white coat and a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Ai tried to talk, but the bulb between her lips kept her quiet. She reached up to take it out, but her shaking hand couldn't pry the pacifier from her mouth. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Who was this woman? She had only questions, and no means to ask them. The room wasn't strictly clinical, that much was obvious. She was lying on a soft bed, surrounded by soft lighting, an extra and unexplained softness between her thighs, and a soft smile on the woman's lips. "Easy there, munchkin. Try not to move too much now, not while you're still coming to." Ai tried to tug harder on the pacifier, but each tug only pulled at her lips, dripping more tiny droplets of creaminess onto her tongue. The more she defied, the more hopeless she felt. "I'll be happy to remove your binkie, but you need to promise you'll be good for me. Do you promise?" Binkie? Ai furrowed her brow in confusion and looked down at her outfit. She couldn't see the pacifier between her lips, but she could see the rest of it. A pink t-shirt with frills around the hem and puffy sleeves. And no pants. More importantly, a diaper between her legs. It was huge, big enough to fit an adult, but the prints along the plastic had baby blocks and teddy bears. A fresh panic filled Ai's chest, but the woman pushed on the front of the pacifier. A few extra drops of creamy liquid spread across Ai's tongue and her anxiety ebbed away. "Like any adjustment, this is going to take time. It's going to be scary at times, but the better you behave, the sooner it's going to become easy, and then normal. You can fight every step of the way, or you can lean into the help provided and be a good girl. Either way, the destination will be the same - only your journey will change." As she spoke, the woman's voice betrayed more of an accent than it first seemed - something South African, perhaps? Friendly, with compressed inflections. Ai had no idea what she was talking about. What journey? What destination? Why was she dressed like an overgrown baby, and why was she kidnapped in the first place?! Ai wasn't special; she was almost too ordinary. She dropped out of college in her second year and worked as an assistant manager at a grocery store. She had less than a thousand dollars in her bank account and she shared an apartment with her fiancé. Her fiancé! She tugged again at the pacifier, a fresh panic filling her up. She had to know he was okay! "My, you have quite the resistance," the woman said with a curiosity. She pushed the front of the pacifier again and Ai's eyes began to droop. Each time she swallowed droplets of the creamy liquid, Ai felt like waves were pulling her back under the water when she was so close to shore. What was this? Where was she? Who was this woman? Diaper. She was wearing a diaper. She was wearing pretty, soft clothes. Kidnapped. She'd been kidnapped. She tried to blink away the waves, but they were so strong. "I have a feeling you're going to be a troublesome little fighter, aren't you, dear?" The woman stepped out. Out? Ai looked around the room, but there weren't any doors or windows. She stumbled to her feet and almost instantly crashed into the floor. Her body felt so weak, like she hadn't eaten in days. She sucked the pacifier and found an ounce of comfort; a remnant association she had as a baby. She was so hungry. "Oh, did we have an oopsie daisy?" The woman returned, like she'd never left, like she'd always been here. She was dressed in a different top; how long had she been gone? She knelt down next to Ai and reached one hand down between the clumsy girls legs; a motion so smooth and simple that it almost wasn't humiliating except for all the ways that it was. Her fingers slipped into the legband of the diaper and she felt for a moment before pulling them away. Ai Sinclair had just had her diaper checked. "Well, you're not wet. You've become such a heavy wetter in your time here." Truth or lies, who could say? Ai couldn't remember a thing and this woman could have told her anything. Heavy wetter? Time here? Ai had only just arrived! Or at least, that's what she thought. She tried to ask a question, but the pacifier was still firmly glued between her lips. "I bet you're hungry, though." Ai's attention was pulled away from her thoughts and into reality. Food? Her heart raced and her eyes betrayed her excitement. The woman smiled knowingly. "Come over here, dear," the woman was motioning to a very comfortable looking chair on the left hand side of the room, wide enough to accommodate perhaps more than one person. Ai was wearing the same clothes. The same pink shirt. The same blocks and teddy bears on her diaper. She couldn't be exactly sure it was the same diaper, but she wouldn't even consider the alternative. Ai tried to get to her feet, which failed spectacularly. Her knees were trembling and she felt lightheaded. How long had it been since they fed her? Or was the meal at the restaurant the last time she ate? "If you don't come here," the woman told her, "you won't get dinner." Ai's hunger outweighed her pride. She shuffled on her hands and knees across the room, trying her best not to faint. It felt like a strong breeze could knock her out. Finally, she reached the woman's feet and tried again to stand. The woman watched Ai’s attempt to stand, and rather than be disparaging, she was encouraging and supportive. "There you go, dear, you almost have it. Let Nana help." Nana? Ai barely had a chance to register that title before she was lifted up off the floor. She sat dumbfounded on a grown woman's lap, wearing a diaper and a short baby tee. Never in a million years did she think this was where she would be. Never in a million years did she think she would do it so willingly. "I'm going to take the pacifier out of your mouth," Nana said softly. "But if you say even a single word, I will put it back in. I will stop feeding you and you'll go hungry." Ai's stomach sank. No words? But she had so many questions... "I need you to nod your head, dear. Nodding yes and shaking no are the only answers you're allowed. Do you understand?" With a pensive pause, and a groan in her stomach, Ai nodded her head once. Simple. One nod. Nana unbuttoned her jacket, with revealed a series of pockets, and from one pocket she reached in and took what looked much like a marker of some description. Using one finger to hold the pacifier, she used her other hand to run the marker around the edges and after a moment, she pulled the pacifier free. Ai looked up at Nana with annoyance. She had a thousand things on the tip of her tongue. Questions, expletives, statements of fact. The most pressing was, of course: I'm not a baby! But the threat of the pacifier loomed heavily over her, like a guillotine. If she didn't get some food in her, she would pass out. So Ai swallowed her pride and didn't say a word. A blush of embarrassment covered her cheeks. "There's a good girl. You’re learning so well this time." Before that bit of pageantry could sink in too deeply, Nana pulled a jar from inside of her coat and began to unscrew the lid. It looked, through the glass, like the consistency of apple sauce. Or baby food. Dark in color, not the most pleasant looking. Or smelling. Or tasting. And that was the point, wasn't it? It would be this or nothing. And gosh was it a large jar. Ai opened her mouth in protest, but she stopped herself before a word escaped her lips. Even as the sickly stale smell of mashed vegetables filled the air, her stomach growled. If she turned her nose up at this, would Nana give her something else? Probably not. And she was so hungry... "Open wide. Ahhh." Ai shot Nana a sour look as the woman tried feeding Ai with a baby spoon shaped like an airplane. Whatever fucked up place she was stuck in, their intentions were plain: to Nana, Ai was supposed to be a baby. "Unless you'd rather not eat?" Nana tested. With reluctance, Ai opened her mouth. There was nothing quite comparable in consistency to the food that Ai was forced to swallow; thick, inconsistent, like lumpy mashed potato with an earthy, pungent taste. Her mouth pursed in disgust as she mulled it over, needing to mash it up some before she could swallow it. She resolved absolutely never to eat another bite - it wasn't worth it. As she swallowed, though, her mouth tingled pleasantly in the same way that it does after a spicy dish; a humming, buzzing, happy tingling. A heavy sated feeling in her stomach, a warmth. A more-ish feeling. An association building method. Nana smiled, and waited, filling another spoonful. Ai was still so hungry. Even if she hated the food, she had to have another bite. She needed the energy! And before she knew it, Ai had finished off the whole jar of baby food. Her stomach rumbled happily, but she could eat more. Still, Ai hadn't said a single word to Nana. "Wasn't that lovely?” Nana asked. Ai said nothing. "Nod your head, dear. Would you like another? You were such a good little girl, after all, and if you keep being good you can have more." Ai was still hungry, but she had some of her strength back. More importantly, Nana's words were grating at her, like the screeching of nails on a chalkboard. She couldn't take it anymore. "I'm not a baby, you know! You can't keep me here. My family is going to miss me. My fiancé. They probably already know I'm gone! You have to let me go!" Nana allowed Ai to finish her rambling sentiments, and gave her the kind of disappointed look that all children knew from the youngest possible age meant that they'd screwed up. Ai felt her stomach sink and steeled herself. She had to keep going. She had to get through to Nana. "Why are you doing this to me? I don't have any money. I don't have anything! I need to call my fiancé, right now. He's going to worry! Please, let me call him. Please..." Nana reached into her pockets and pulled out a second jar - this one had a mush inside of it that was the most unnaturally looking shade of pink imaginable; like nothing in the world existed in that particular color. She said nothing to Ai, and shook her head slowly. "No, I don't want more food, please, I just want to call my—" Ai was caught by surprise at the spoonful of pink mush pressed into her mouth. She shook her head, now, trying to pull away, to clamp her mouth shut, to keep from eating more, from swallowing, but it was already just a little too late. Her eyelids drooped and she giggled. And swallowed. "Um..." She titled her head, trying to cling onto thoughts, onto protests. "My fi, my fee... fian... fiance, um..." "Is going to think you're the most darling little girl he's ever seen, dear." Ai looked conflicted, like she knew those words weren’t true but wasn't sure why she knew that. She opened her mouth, and swallowed more of the pink food, her cheeks rosy red. "The food, uh, um…" "Is delicious," Nana provided an answer, and added: "It's your favorite." "It's my favorite..." Ai mulled over those words, like she was the last to know. Ai fumbled for words, for thoughts, for something to ground her. But every time she tried to say something, Nana would finish her sentences. Nana's words became the ground, and Ai was glued to them. "I'm not..." "A big girl anymore." Another spoonful. "Please, let me..." "Have another bite." Another spoonful. Soon the jar was gone and Ai couldn't think clearly. Little laughs escaped her lips and she smiled dumbly at her caregiver. "You're going to be filling your diaper soon, dear. You’re so excited, I know you are. You want Nana to hold you in her lap while you do, and bounce you a little bit after, maybe? And then you always did love it when Nana changes you." These words should have set off alarm bells in Ai's head, but they didn't - like someone had cut the wire to the sirens, and a little red light flashing was all that remained; and even then, Nana kept Ai’s gaze away from it. "I... uh..." Ai nodded along, but she wasn't sure what she was agreeing to. The food she was given would definitely have some desired effects, but it could take anywhere from an hour to four hours to do so. The pink food would wear off long before then. It was important Ai was fully aware of herself as she surrendered her control.

Gosh I feel like it's been months since I finished posting Academy I. I'm sorry for the delay on starting this one. I have a few chapters ready to go, but I hope to do a lot more over winter break. Anyway... If you haven't read Academy I, I recommend you read that one first. I don't think it's strictly necessary though? I'm trying to write these as individual narratives, but it will definitely benefit the reader to have some information from A:I. Oh and again. If you want to support me, there's a Patreon link you can go to. Thanks for reading and leaving comments and stuff. ~Mia~ ---------------------------- Academy B By Mia Moore "True judgement does not use balanced scales, for the fool’s pockets have been filled with many of the devil’s stones." -The Source Chapter One Bala Khatri woke up to stark, bright lights. They glared off the shiny walls, ceiling, and floor. The room was big and shadowless, stretching an impossible distance. As Bala's eyes adjusted, she caught sight of something else: a person. But as she approached, she found that she was looking in a mirror. Bala was still dressed in scrubs from her night shift at the hospital. She was on her way back to her car when the van pulled up. She had managed to mace one of the suited men, but the other hit her hard across the face. In the mirror, there was swelling along her jawline. Where was she now? A pit the size of a melon sat in her stomach, sprouting dread, demanding that she shout out at the empty room with the shiny walls. To threaten them. To deny them. To appeal to them. To beg to them. Bala was no stranger to the perils of being a young woman who worked long hours and late nights in the city. She rubbed her fingers up her arms and found herself shivering. Cold? Scared? Bala quickly realized the room wasn't as big as she thought: the mirror was causing a lot of the distortion. She worked her way around the brightly lit room until she found a handle to a door, though the door blended in so much it was hard to notice. Bala tried the handle, but it didn't turn. "Damnit..." She fished through her pockets for her cell phone, but it wasn't there. The ID tag on her waist wasn't there either. "My family has no money," Bala called out, the echo of her voice eerily flat against the walls of the room. "If it’s a ransom you're hoping for, you might as well kill me now. I’m sure my organs are worth more to you." Always the pragmatist. Nobody responded. Maybe they were organ harvesters, though - it would explain why it felt like a refrigerator in there. Bala kicked at the door, but she wasn't the strongest woman in the world. She wasn't the biggest, either. She knew her way around a can of pepper spray, but that wasn't going to help her in here. Why would someone kidnap her? Was it a sex thing? Bala stepped away from the door and paced around the room. She rubbed her bare arms, hugging herself tightly. It felt colder and colder the longer she was awake. "Sit down," a voice said, filling the room with a soft echo. It was neither masculine nor feminine, and didn’t seem to come from anywhere in particular. Bala looked around for the source of the voice, but there was nobody else in the room with her. No cameras. No speakers. Not that she could find with her eyes, anyway. Had she imagined the command? "I won’t," she replied, in defiance. The voice didn't repeat itself. And for the next ten minutes, Bala was left to her thoughts and her own preponderances. Gosh it was cold. Colder with every passing moment. "Sit down." The voice repeated. "Tell me why you're doing this!" No response. Bala took a deep breath and saw the air in front of her nose. Was it really that cold in here? She was shivering in place. "Please... I have a family. I have a daughter. She's two years old. She needs her mother!" Bala didn't have a family. She didn't have a daughter. She had a mom who visited once a week and a roommate she had known for two years. She had a lot of friends at work, people who would quickly realize she was missing. Bala was never late to work. There was no response. No amount of impassioned pleas, truthful or not, seemed to impact the disembodied voice. She shivered, rubbed her arms, and paced the room. "Sit down." It had to be pre-recorded, didn't it? Bala had been trying to time the intervals between the commands, and they seemed roughly similar. But they were so far apart that she couldn’t compare the inflections or tones. Was it a person? Reluctantly, she shouted at the ceiling. "If I sit down, will you turn up the heat please? I'm going to get hypothermia, you know?" Not yet. It wasn't cold enough yet. But it was cold enough that she kept clenching her swollen jaw. No response. Bala did her best to hold out hope for a crack, an edge, something to grab onto verbally. But if the voice was truly a recording, her shouting would get her nowhere. So when it next repeated: "Sit down." She sat down. Immediately, the space on the floor where she sat began to glow a soft red. Bala nervously examined the room, pressing her palms to the floor. It was giving off heat, like a space heater. She wondered if the rest of the room was warming up, or if it was only the glowing spot. And why did they want her to sit down? Was it just a display of power? "I'm sitting now, what do you want?" There was no reply from the voice. It was American; she had figured that much out. And if she had to guess, it repeated about every ten minutes. Would it give her another command in ten minutes, then? Experimentally, she reached as far as she could, in each direction, and found the floor only to be warm on the tile where she was sitting. The room was still cold, but the warmth travelled well up her body and it left her feeling... comfortable. As comfortable as she could be, sitting on a hard floor in a freezing room, ordered around by a disembodied voice after being kidnapped. "Put your thumb in your mouth and keep it there." What? Bala thought. Why? "I'm not putting my thumb in my mouth," Bala said to no one in particular. "What is this all about? Are you trying to humiliate me or something? That isn't happening!" No response. No anything. So Bala sat quietly with her arms crossed, soaking in the heat of the tile beneath her. Then, ten minutes later, the tile turned off. The heat vanished, and the voice repeated itself. "Put your thumb in your mouth and keep it there." "No, I..." Bala was smart enough to have a preschool understanding of cause and effect. She needed to follow the directions, or the room was going to stay cold. On top of that, there was the faintest breeze of frigid, icy air. They were making the room colder? Because she hadn't obeyed? The voice repeated itself three more times. Bala found the corner of the room by the mirror and balled herself together as tight as she could, knees to her chest and arms tucked into her shirt. The air in the room was biting; no matter how she tried, she couldn't stop shaking. It was definitely below freezing, and her head was starting to hurt. “Put your thumb in your mouth and keep it there." What did it matter? It was one stupid thing. It wasn't even that embarrassing, if she thought about it. People suck their thumbs. It wasn't weird. So with a bit of hesitation, she put her thumb in her mouth and kept it there. The moment that she did, she could feel the spreading warmth beneath her on the floor. It was like slipping under a blanket in the middle of winter. It was like a hug at the end of a twenty-hour double shift at the hospital. Bala shivered, but this time it wasn't because of the cold. She had her thumb in her mouth, sure. But so what? The whole experience was exhausting for Bala. Every time she tried to fight, it got colder. Then she was sitting in the corner of a room and sucking her thumb. Worse yet, she knew the voice would continue to demand things from her. Whatever their goal was, it wouldn't end with thumbsucking. "Lay down and rest. Keep your thumb in your mouth. Sleep." Bala sighed and looked down at the floor as the voice gave her a new command. What was she supposed to do with that? What kind of command was 'go to sleep' when you're a literal kidnapping victim? But she also knew she had little choice in the matter. "I need to use the bathroom." To her surprise, the voice responded right away with a new command. "Do not speak unless spoken to." It responded to her? Then they could hear her. She took her thumb out of her mouth and tried to get to her feet. "Please let me out! I'll do anything you want, just let me out of here!" Maybe it was the standing up. Maybe it was taking her thumb out of her mouth. Maybe it was talking without a prompt. Whatever it was, the heat started to vanish from the spot where she was standing. In a fury, Bala went over to the door and tugged at the handle, kicking the tiled walls. "Let me out! I know you can hear me! Let me out! Whatever you want from me, I don't care, I'll play along, just let me out!" Bala kicked at the door and screamed at the room for nine minutes, until the original command repeated itself. "Lay down and rest. Keep your thumb in your mouth. Sleep." "Fuck you!" The room was getting cold again. Bala could see her breath and her arms were covered in goosebumps. What was she supposed to do? Give up? "I'm not going to do it! I'm not going to listen! I'll freeze my butt off before I listen to you again, unless you get in here and talk to me. Or… or let me out. I don't care!" Bala was short of breath and sucking on icy oxygen that hurt her lungs. She paced the room, trying to keep warm. She tucked her arms back into her shirt and shook her head side to side. Stay moving. Keep active. But by the time the voice repeated the command - "Lay down and rest. Keep your thumb in your mouth. Sleep." - Bala was struggling to breathe. It felt like the air around her was full of glass. Her heart was hurting and she could read the signs of hypothermia. The temperature in the room was clearly below freezing. If she didn't warm up soon, she could have liver or kidney problems. With an angry whimper, she sat back down on the floor - in the center of the room - and put her thumb in her mouth. No warmth. No warmth. What was she doing wrong? The words played back in her head so readily. Lay down and rest. Keep your thumb in your mouth. Sleep. Sleep. Lay down. Rest. Sleep. Thumb in mouth. She shivered, sucking on her thumb to keep from biting it off, and laid down on the floor. The tile started to glow and warm air radiated from it. Bala had stars in the edges of her vision. She continued to tremble on the warm tile for many minutes later, but soon the heat filled her up. The warm spot on the floor was so refreshing, so relaxing... a haven amidst the tundra around her. Her body began to relax, allowing her aching muscles a reprieve. She sucked softly on her thumb and let sleep take her away from that awful, awful place.

Hi folks. The story of Mike’s forced regression, and Sandra’s devious/ dominant hand in that continues - but this time with the introduction of a new (old) flame. This will be at least a two part story. Mike’s changing (ha) relationship with Katie the preschool teacher isn’t finished yet. The name of the daycare facility is a tribute to an old story that some of you might recognize. As always, all characters are 18+. Please note: Although this story takes place in a daycare setting, it presents/ focuses solely on a conversation between 3 adults. This story contains mental regression and gentle femdom, along with strong AB elements. Feedback and critique are welcome. Before Daycare Sandra held Mike’s hand tightly in hers as they walked up the sidewalk towards the brick building she remembered so well. She wasn’t having to drag him up the sidewalk, which was a good start. His response had been less than enthusiastic when she had first suggested the Little Helpers program. They left the summer heat behind as they moved through the double doors and into the air conditioned reception area. Almost immediately, a plump 50s-something woman who Mike didn’t know scurried out from behind the big desk that dominated the entry space and wrapped Sandra in a giant hug. Sandra hadn’t seen Diane in almost 10 years, and truth be told, she was a little surprised to find her still here. It was as if nothing had changed with her. Same out-of-style hairdo. Same bright-colored “designer” tracksuit that accentuated her curves in all the wrong places. And apparently still uninterested in having any more responsibility attached to her job than keeping an eye on the front door, signing for packages, and answering phone calls. Mike found it a little intimidating having this strange woman invade their shared personal space so suddenly and loudly. He had a strong urge to hide behind Sandra, but he managed to push that aside. Instead, he held her hand tightly and surveyed his surroundings as the “adults” caught up. It was a stereotypical one story daycare building located along a busy road. At some point, Sunny Hills Daycare might have been operated by one of those corporate chains, but now it was in private hands. Cool linoleum covered the floors in all directions lit up by florescent panels. A long hallway with multi-colored, half-windowed doors extended to the right. A cacophony of different sounds, shouts, and cries came from that direction. To the left, was a shorter hallway with what looked like a kitchen/ laundry and an office at the end. Suddenly, Mike realized that Sandra and Diane were both looking at him: “Are you going to say hello back to Miss Diane?”, Sandra asked gently, pulling him forward a bit. Mike gave a wave and shy little hello, which prompted a snort and a proclamation of his “adorableness” from Diane. “You can go on through and wait in the office”, she said, “Katie had to run back to her classroom for just a sec but she will be right there, Diane said. The office was a small space, barely enough to fit a modest desk with 2 adult-size chairs in front. In the corner farthest from the door sat a smaller chair and desk painted in bright red, which also had a basket of children’s books on top. Mike started to sit in one of the adult chairs, but was redirected to the corner seat by Sandra. He decided not to object. He didn’t really want to be part of this particular conversation anyway. The regression center Sandra had enrolled him in last Christmas offered a number of “extracurricular”(AKA for an additional fee) programs and experiences for littles. Most were expensive and even a little kitschy. But there was one extracurricular offering that had caught Sandra’s eye almost immediately. Of course it helped that the Little Helpers Daycare Program was one of the only free options, (provided that a suitable placement could be found), but that wasn’t the main reason she was interested. The program provided opportunities for littles enrolled in the regression program to “perform supervised volunteer and learning activities” at a number of local daycares. Little Helpers were not paid carers or even interns. And they weren’t daycare kids either. They existed somewhere in between. They helped with simple tasks like passing out crayons, or picking up after snack time, while receiving an appropriate level of care and supervision for their regressed development level. They were not allowed to perform any actual care activities (partly for licensing reasons and partly because they weren’t always capable) but they were allowed and encouraged to join in on daily activities where appropriate. Most Little Helpers enjoyed story time (and needed nap time) as much as the others. The program had proven to be very popular. Moms like her enjoyed the free time of course, and program participants like Mike benefited as well, especially in terms of their regression progress and socialization. Like it or not, humans are pack animals, and the norms and characteristic behaviors of one’s peer group tend to rub off on the individual. Participants in the Little Helpers program tended to be more accepting of their status overall and less resistant to major regressive steps or changes at home, such as the introduction of afternoon naps (something Mike had been adamantly opposed to at first). But it was the daycare providers and curriculum companies who liked the Little Helpers most of all. Not because of the free labor - the Little Helpers didn’t really do enough in the classroom to earn their keep that way. They liked them because they were still adults, (at least in age), which meant they could be used for market research, curriculum testing, and direct feedback on programs and care protocols without having to go through a bunch of pesky ethics review boards. And best of all, the data was coming from individuals who were much more in tune with the needs and interests of their target market. It was a virtual data gold mine - especially for the corporate chains who could afford high powered marketing and data analytics teams to support these efforts. Sandra suspected that the chains were probably subsidizing the programs via the regression centers to keep them free and therefore more attractive to carers and parents of enrollees. Whatever - it worked - and it was really no different to what the social media companies were doing with her data all day every day. Mike could be their little guinea pig as long as it also served her purposes. Her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Katie: “Sorry to keep you waiting - one of my kids spilled paint EVERYWHERE and I had to help with cleanup and locating a change of clothes.” “No worries - It comes with the territory!” said Sandra with a little laugh, and then they hugged briefly - but not nearly as long as she had hugged Diane. It had been nearly five years since she had seen Katie. She knew she worked here now of course, (she’d provided her letter of reference) but she’d been much younger and less mature the last time she had actually seen her. Now, in addition to sporting a sizable rock and wedding band on her left hand, she was also visibly pregnant. If Sandra had to guess, she’d say between 5-6 months - definitely into the glowing stage. Katie had always been pretty in a cutesy way, but pregnancy seemed to have enhanced her looks further, softening some edges and accentuating her curves. She looked more womanly than girlish now. As Sandra took in these changes, Katie turned to Mike, who started to get up from his low chair at the same moment that she bent down to hug him. The net effect was that Mike ended up receiving a faceful of Katie’s boobs instead of the intended hug. He said something in greeting, but it was too muffled against her chest to be intelligible. Katie wasn’t at all phased. After a quick pat to the back, she released Mike, turning back to her seat behind the desk and sitting down with her attention focused on Sandra. Mike also sat back down, taking care to locate the small chair underneath him, lest he fall off and embarrass himself in front of her. He had noticed that Katie smelled really good when she had embraced him - some particularly intoxicating combination of soap and something sweet. Vanilla mixed with maple syrup maybe? Whatever it was, he certainly didn’t mind it. His nose was so sensitive now! Whereas Diane’s copious floral perfume had almost made him gag earlier, this combination of smells had a much different effect on him. It put him immediately at ease and made him wish he could have more and much longer cuddles with her. He was suddenly overcome with a particularly vivid image of reaching for her, and Katie picking him up to hold him crossways across her body with one hand on his bottom and his face pressed into her soft breasts. The warm, full body embrace and that curiously inviting smell enveloped him, relaxing him so deeply that he started to… “Mike!…Mike?…Hello?…Miss Katie is asking you a question!”, Sandra said with amused tolerance, breaking him from his reverie. He gave a startled look and shook his head. He’d gotten lost again. These little “zone out episodes” as Sandra called them were becoming both more frequent and decidedly more babyish in scope lately. Sometimes he’d even find himself acting them out, but through a weirdly disembodied shift in perspective in which it felt as if he were observing a smaller version of himself. It was like there were two people sharing his body now. And toddler Mike was booking way more than just cameos these days. He had no idea how much time had passed, but the girls had obviously had time to catch up with one another and move on to the business at hand - him. He looked up at Katie guiltily, but she just smiled at him as she repeated: “I was asking if you wanted a sticker, sweetie? I’ve got one here I think you might really like.” She held it to out him, and he stood again to take it, now noticing a little bit of warm dampness in the front of his pants that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. Like the zone outs, these little lapses in control were an increasingly common side effect of his regression, often occurring in tandem with them, and sometimes turning into full-blown accidents. Thankfully, this one felt rather small and easily contained within his padded panties. There was no need to tell Sandra or Miss Katie about it. But he might need to ask for the toilet soon… Mike turned the sticker over in hands, studying it. It was bright metallic blue with yellow lettering that said “ LITTLE HELPER” in block capitals. In the background he noticed a variety of stenciled farm animals. He could name all of them. Most prominent was a cute little duckling with a very round bottom…almost as if… Katie was talking again. Mike peeled his attention away from the sticker, noticing that his pants felt quite a bit warmer in front now. Oops! But there was no time to think about that, because Katie was telling him in a very serious, grown up voice about how important it was for him to wear the sticker all the time while he was at the daycare, so that she and the other staff knew that he was one of the big kid helpers and not one of the daycare kids. He wouldn’t want them to mistake him for a baby, would he? Mike shook his head, indicating a hard “NO” to being mistaken for a baby. And to show he understood the importance of the sticker, he peeled off the backing and placed it on his chest. “Good boy!” Katie said, using a syrupy tone that would normally not be used to speak to a big kid. But Mike didn’t seem to notice. In fact he was beaming. He’d always had a “praise thing” going on for as long as Sandra had known him - it was one of the first tools she’d used to bring out his subby side after they started dating. Now, as she watched the dynamic between them, Sandra was absolutely convinced that she had made the right choice enrolling him here. She had chosen this location partly because she knew it. She had worked at Sunny Hills for almost 3 years before marrying Mike - first as a teacher and then as the supervisor in the toddler room. It was an excellent facility that received consistently high marks from parents as well as state inspectors. In truth, Mike wasn’t quite ready for the preschool room anymore. The regression program had really started to take hold in the spring, and he was frequently acting more like a two-year old (in words and deeds) than a pre-schooler per-se. He needed a lot of guidance and help with even the most basic tasks, including (especially?) toileting. He often had trouble making it to the potty on time without being reminded, and would struggle with getting his clothing off when he did. Some days it felt like the potty was an altogether alien concept to him. The thickly padded training pants she’d been putting him in were barely adequate for his current level of daytime continence. He was almost always a little damp when she checked him. On the advice of another mom from the regression playgroup, she had tried slinging a toddler prefold into the crotch of his trainers, but that had provoked an absolute meltdown when he noticed the extra bulk, and so she had not tried that again. Picking her battles was a mark of her maturity compared to Mike, who now made a big, repeated deal about everything. At least he was diapered for naps and nighttime now. That was a significant victory, and it had also made her life and sleep schedule much easier. Despite his lingering stubbornness about “baby things”, Mike hated wet beds, and had willingly accepted a diaper for these times. Of course there had been no mention of bed wetting pants or similar products for older children. It was either thick, nighttime diapers adorned with cute Winnie the Pooh designs, or a cold, wet bed. Easy choice. She kept them on hIm for as long as possible after a sleep, and she was pretty good at finding creative excuses to put them on early. But Mike could still be depended on to demand his “big boy pants”, even when she didn’t mention them. As of yet, she hadn’t refused this request. The change would come in time. It was inevitable. There was no need to rush. Besides, she had to admit that her dominant side found his pee soaked undies absolutely adorable in a way that was different to his wet diapers. They made her wet too, but in a much more grown up way. Wet training pants were “accidents”, and accidents were supposed to be embarrassing for “big boys.” Despite the slippery (and wet) slope he was on, Mike still knew that too, and his blushy responses to her questions about the condition of his pants were worth the extra cleanup and laundry duties. She’d stopped orchestrating or “facilitating” these accidents herself - he was perfectly capable of peeing or even occasionally messing in his pants on his own these days. But she still took advantage of every one to reinforce his status and dependence on her. She had started changing him lying down using the strongest smelling baby wipes she could find. She would linger over his private parts as she held his legs and wiped him, making sure to comment if she found traces of diaper rash, or a dirty bottom from his diminished wiping skills. Then she’d finish by putting a liberal dollop of lavender scented diaper cream on the fingers of her free hand, and slowly and sensuously trace a path through his butt crack and up and over his scrotum. These moments were heavenly for both of them. The cream didn’t seem to affect the absorbency of the training pants, and Sandra liked knowing that it served as a sticky reminder of his diminished status. In fact, it probably felt a lot like having a poopy diaper, and getting him used to that feeling wasn’t a bad idea at this point. Turning back to matters of the present, Sandra also knew that Katie would care for Mike in similarly gentle and nurturing ways. True, she probably wouldn’t get off on it like Sandra did, but that was a good thing. Being checked and changed in a preschool setting, where accidents were common and dealt with matter-of-factly by trained staff, would take his diaper training and acceptance to levels she could never achieve on her own at home. She wasn’t sure if Mike remembered Katie or not. Judging by his reactions, he at least felt comfortable around her. But the regression program seemed to have scrambled his memories pertaining to adults he didn’t interact with on a regular basis. Shared histories and memories of specific events were gone, but the emotional connections (including his like or dislike of specific people) often remained. Maybe it was something to do with conscious versus subconscious memory and how those manifested differently in thought or behavior. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter really. Because she remembered Katie. And Katie remembered him. And that was the main reason she has decided to enroll Mike here as a Little Helper. Katie had been their next door neighbor for her first five years of marriage to Mike. When they first moved in, she has been a rising freshman at the local community college and was very much that stereotypical, fresh-faced teen girl next door who shows up as a bright green blip on the radar of both husbands and wives. From the start, Mike had done little to hide his infatuation with Katie, which was surprising because he was normally shy and introverted around women. He seemed to look for excuses to talk to her and her friends. He behaved differently when she was around. It wasn’t quite creepy, but it was overt.. She knew he fantasized about fucking her, (or more accurately for Mike, being fucked by her) even if he was probably too shy to go through with it. Probably. Sandra had never been 100% sure whether or not anything physical had transpired between them. On one occasion, she’d come back early from a girls night out to find him hanging in Kati’e’s garage at a small party. Mike was the oldest one there by at least a few years. He had provided the alcohol, and she and he were both obviously buzzed and standing very close to one another when she had first entered the garage. Sandra had managed to hide her anger as she grabbed Mike’s wrist, announcing loudly that it was time for him to go home and get ready for bed. That statement had provoked some giggles from Katie and her friends, but not in a way that felt directed at her or her desire to protect her marriage. Katie wasn’t mean, but she was still a threat, especially to guys like Mike. Like Sandra, she was naturally maternal and nurturing in a way that men like Mike often found irresistible. In fact, it had been easy to write Katie a letter of recommendation for this position on the basis of that personality trait alone: she was a natural with kids, and they tended to love her almost immediately, just as Mike had. She had been happy to extend Katie that professional courtesy, and she knew her letter of recommendation would go a long way at Sunny Hills. Katie had probably gotten this job because of her. And now she could use that to her advantage on a more personal level. Enrolling Mike here now, in his diminished condition, and with Katie as his official caretaker, was the perfect ending to the little relationship they may or may not have had behind her back all those years ago. If Mike wanted this other woman to dominate and mother him, then he was going to get it - just on a much more realistic and infantile level than he had ever intended. She wanted Katie to see Mike for who he was, then and now, and she knew Mike wouldn’t be capable of hiding the gory wet details for long. But Katie didn’t know about these ulterior motives, and she doubted that Katie would be open to putting him here on that basis. So - if her plan was going to work, she needed to get Mike through the preschool enrollment process the old fashioned way: by telling teeny tiny little white lies about his level of independence and development, (including toilet training). It was ironic how the regression program so often imitated the everyday lived experience of parents with actual toddlers. Here she was, trying to sneak her 32 year old into a preschool program that he didn’t quite qualify for. She had prepped Mike for this visit, coaching him on what to say and making it clear that Katie needed to see that he could still be a big boy if she were going to let him be a special helper in her class. She hoped it would be enough. And more to the point, she hoped that he wouldn’t zone out into baby mode during their meeting today. She’d seen him starting to slip away momentarily after Katie had hugged him, but she managed to snap him out of it fairly quickly. Still, she wondered if his pants were still dry… Thankfully, they were nearly through the meeting now. She had done most of the talking for Mike to this point, but now Katie turned her attention back to him. Sandra looked at him anxiously, but she could tell that he was still with it. So far so good! Katie began: “Mike, before I agree to let you be a helper in my class, I have just a few questions for you, OK?” Mike nodded his head and looked up at her shyly. It was actually really cute, (which Sandra hoped didn’t work against him). But Mike needn’t have worried or been nervous. These weren’t hard questions, and he knew all of the answers, even if some of them were a little bit embarrassing. She started off asking him about the regression program, whether he liked his friends at regression playgroup/ how he got along with them, what kinds of tv shows he liked, and what were his favorite books? Katie wasn’t really interested in the specific answers to these questions, so much as how he responded to them. She was gauging his level of social and intellectual maturity. As the biggest “kid” in the room, would he be capable of playing nice and following her instructions? Finally, her questions turned to toileting and accidents. Sunny Hills didn’t have a strict “no diapers” policy for preschool like some other places, but kids who were still mostly in diapers or who had frequent accidents were better suited to the toddler room that Sandra used to manage. There was more to do and learn in preschool, and diaper/ clothing changes took up valuable time. Katie’s tone was gentle but insistent now: Did he ever make tinkles in his pants? Was that because he didn’t know he had to go, or because he just left it too late (Sandra had coached him to indicate only the latter, even though she was pretty sure both had been true at different times). Mike passed this little test with flying colors. When the questions turned to poopy accidents, Sandra noticed a change in Mike’s demeanor. He still felt very embarrassed about these (much more than wetting accidents), and would try to hide them from her when they happened. Mike blushed deeply and held up three fingers without looking up at Katie. “Does that mean you’ve made poopy in your pants three times?” Katie asked softly. Mike nodded almost imperceptibly in response, while continuing to stare down at the desk. They both breathed a sigh of relief when Katie smiled and replied: “well a big boy like you should know that three is a very small number. It’s definitely not something to be embarrassed about it it?” She paused, waiting for a response from Mike. He looked up, his face less red now, and shook his head “no”. Katie nodded, apparently satisfied with his answers. She was in full-on teacher-mode now: “OK Mike, I’ll make a deal with you: If you’re going to be my Little Helper, then you need to set a good example for the kids in my class. Because you’re not a baby. And neither are they. So I expect everyone in my class to at least try to use the potty when they notice they have to go, and that includes you. Can I trust you to do that for me?” Mike nodded, looking pleased. He could definitely do that. “And when you do have an accident, I expect you to come tell me or another member of staff straight away. OK? I won’t be mad, I promise. Telling me about accidents is another way you can show me that you are a big boy, and also set a good example for the others.” Mike nodded again. He could definitely do that too! But Katie couldn’t let this point go just yet. She needed him to understand the consequences of not sticking to their deal: “Because only little babies go potty in their pants without telling anyone. And if that happens too often in my class, then you will get sent to a different classroom where everyone wears diapers (yes, even the helpers like you),and no one gets to use the potty, not even for poopies!” She paused for a moment to let that last part sink in… “That doesn’t sound very fun, does it? You don’t want me to think you’re a baby who needs to wear diapers and is too little to be in my class do you?” Mike shook his head “no” - he definitely didn’t want her to think that “Good! Then I think this is gonna work out great!” She turned now to Sandra: “OK. Wet pants are no big deal, and we can change them in the staff bathroom or the classroom bathroom if it’s unoccupied. Wetting accidents are expected at his age (or rather his stage of development), but it is also good that you are keeping him in training pants so that he feels wet when he goes. We don’t want him getting used to being in wet pants, or feeling comfortable when he is wet”… “…Although…having said that, I realize that advice might not apply in Mike’s case, at least depending on how far you want him to…go…” She paused, trying to find the right words: “I guess what I’m saying is that, for kids in the regression program, it might be different…but I still think it’s best that we approach their care exactly as we would for any of the other kids in my classroom. Otherwise I’m not doing my job properly!” She smiled as she said this. And Sandra smiled back and nodded in agreement. If only she knew! “But state law says that soiled pants have to be changed in a designated diaper changing area. And that means taking him to the toddler classroom to be changed when or if that happens, which obviously also necessitates that the changing area is free for us to use in private. It’s A LOT more work and coordination to change poopy pants, and it means I have to be away from my classroom while I take care of him. So, if he starts having a lot of poopy accidents, we might have to think about putting him in diapers to make cleanup easier or even placing him in the toddler classroom where they are better equipped to take care of it. But for now, let’s assume that’s not going to happen, because I can tell Mike wants to be a big boy for me.” She turned to smile at Mike as she said this last part, and he smiled back. He liked Miss Katie! Katie turned back to Sandra: “Just like with any preschooler, you’ll need to provide a couple of spare pairs of training pants, a change of clothing, and a supply of diapers if he wears them for naptime?” She looked at Sandra questioningly as she asked this, but it was not a gotcha question. About 1/4 of the preschoolers still needed diapers or pull-ups at naptime. Sandra indicated that he did, and Sandra replied: “Great, please send along at least a 2 week supply and we will keep you updated when they start running low. Usually parents just put together a backpack with all this stuff in it, and maybe a favorite cuddly toy - anyway you already know the drill here, ‘you’ve been there done that’ as they say!” Sandra smiled and said she could do that, and it seemed the interview was coming to a successful close. But before they got up to leave, Katie turned to Mike and asked him if he had any questions for her. Mike didn’t know what to say. Sandra hadn’t coached him on how to respond to this question about questions. But he did remember the promise he had made a few minutes ago. And so he decided now was a good opportunity to show her that he could stick to their deal. “I tinkled in my big boy pants, Miss Katie” he said without a hint of shame. Katie let out a good-natured laugh in response. And so did Sandra. Because that one little sentence, those nine simple words that conveyed so much about status, power, and dependence, were a better start to Mike and Katie’s new relationship than Sandra could have hoped for.

This story is being created as a part of the Second Kasarberang Non-Contest contest.

This story is a part of the 2nd Kasarberang Story Contest, check out everybody else competing at the link! Hello everyone. This is my first story here, and kinda my first anywhere that isn't an unfinished NaNo (but we all have those... right?). Either way, this takes place in a setting I created for some RP with close friends, called Time ABerrations. I'll leave the details for the story to disclose, but as the name implies, there's time travel shenanigans that are being used to regress the main character through twisting his past. If it matters, he's never going to be any younger than he currently is, but he may recall events from his past as the story progresses. Anyway, enjoy the first chapter. It's mostly setup, but that's how these things go. I welcome any feedback, and I'm already working on Chapter 2. Thanks for reading! Chapter 1 Oliver was lost and alone, sitting at the end of an unmade bed in the cheapest motel he could find, trying to understand where it all went wrong. It had been several weeks since he moved to the city, and every hope, every plan he had coming in had dissolved into dust, leaving him here. No job. No apartment. No hope. It wasn’t that way just a month before. Back then he and his three best friends from college all had careers lined up in the big city, and had e-signed their lease to all live together. Ben had already started writing for the hottest new news startup, Kyle was setting up his high-end laptop with the latest CAD software, and Thomas was sketching layout ideas while paging through his company’s website. As for Oliver, he was told the company’s code was proprietary, and that required its hardware remain on site. Not an uncommon issue, but it did leave him with a gap to fill, so he packed his car and moved early. After all, the apartment was already waiting for him, and he could use the time to get some basic supplies and scope out the city. As Oliver drove out to the city, his car still half empty, despite containing everything he owned, he could feel the future on the horizon, endless possibilities out here on the open road. With every mile, every hour, he dreamt of his future, and swore it would be a good one. See, Oliver wasn’t very outgoing, he only made his three friends in college by chance, and even they felt like they were always closer to each other than to him. But as that dark cloud of self-doubt started to well up, he just swore harder that things would be different this time. After all, he was in the prime of his life, well educated, with a clear, well-paying future ahead of him. All he had to do was be brave, and press on towards the horizon. One busted pipe was all it took for it all to start crashing down. “Sorry kid, we’re going to have to put you up in a hotel for a day or two til we get this sorted,” the manager grumbled at him. “Shouldn’t be much longer than that.” Oliver fell back on old habits, and nodded meekly, jotting down the address of the hotel, and hopping on the group chat with his roommates, telling them to wait before moving out. “No worries” “All good” "Have fun without us, bro!” He sighed, lying back on the memory foam mattress. They were right, nothing to worry about, it probably happens all the time. After all, the apartment manager did set him up with this pretty sweet hotel; it saved him a few days of having to figure out a bed and furniture. Oliver opened his phone and started scrolling mindlessly, letting the exhaustion of the day take him away shortly after. He awoke sometime just before noon, his phone buzzing away. “Uhm, hello,” he answered, trying to hide the sleep from his voice and failing. “Yeah, kid, look, no easy way to tell ya, but the apartment’s no longer available. I got some city guy up my ass about-“ he continued on, but Oliver didn’t hear him. That old familiar fear gripped his throat, and he had to fight back tears. “Kid? Hey, you there?” “O-oh, y-yes,” Oliver replied, his voice cracking, tongue dry, and body numb. “Great. Now tell your friends you gotta find somewhere else. Corporate will forward you any rent you’ve paid sometime in the next three months.” The line went dead, and that was it. Oliver just curled up under the blankets and slept until the midafternoon. When he awoke, he felt weak and smelled terrible. He dragged himself to the shower, but ended up lying in the tub, the shower pouring down on him while he sulked. He couldn’t stand to tell the guys that plans had fallen through, that they would need to find a new apartment at the last minute. He just didn’t want to do anything anymore. Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, he saw the light of his phone turn on. Then again, and again. He managed to stir himself enough to shut off the water, partly dry himself off, and check his phone. It was the group chat; apparently the apartment complex sent an email notifying them of the cancellation of their lease. At least that’s the awkward part of the conversation down. “Yo, Ollie, you good man?” Kyle texted first. Oliver always hated being called Ollie, his childhood bully used to call him that, and he never really got over her teasing, not really. “It’s alright dude, we all called our bosses. They’ve got telework set up for us,” Ben followed. “We should definitely look at somewhere local after we get our deposits back though. Three months is HARSH though,” Thomas added, and the conversation continued from there about finding somewhere later on, including some links to places with availability that far out, but none sooner. They had gone and figured it out without him, so he just replied with an unenthusiastic “K.” He didn’t want to be stuck in limbo for three months, but he could figure something out, for sure. Things still sucked, but he could see the horizon again. Oliver ended up getting some cheap fast food, then turning in for the night, hopeful tomorrow would be a better day. He awoke early, hopeful, wanting for some good news, and so he got dressed, hit up the complimentary breakfast, and decided to stop by his office. He wanted to go get a glimpse of his future again. Even if he didn’t start for another two weeks, he was sure he could at least get in and say hi. He punched the address into his GPS, and drove to the far end of the city. He must have missed it, or made a wrong turn, or typed in the GPS wrong, or… something, because the lot he stopped at was entirely vacant. There were a few warehouses down the street, but nothing resembling an office building of any kind. Scrambling, Oliver checked everything, made sure the GPS address matched the website, ran out of the car to the street sign, but it all matched. He was in the right place, but there was nothing here. Oliver frantically pulled up his boss’s contact and called him, but the number was disconnected. “How did I screw this up?” he asked, on the verge of full blown panic. He took and aced a skills test, did a quick interview and got along great. All the paperwork had been online, something he though marked a modern company, one willing to embrace a fast paced digital world, not… not this. Not a scam. His legs gave out as he realized he gave them everything. His social, his bank account number, everything someone would need to take his identity and leave him with nothing. He didn’t cry though, he was too afraid for that. His shaky hands gripped the steering wheel and he sped along. There was an ATM for his bank not far from here; he noted it on the way in as a nice way to grab some cash after payday. “Where, where, where…” he whispered to himself, too afraid to speak any louder. “It has to be… there!” he yanked the wheel to turn in to the ATM, hitting the curb in the process, but making into the parking lot. Oliver ran up the ATM, fumbling with his wallet and card, and even typed in his pin wrong the first time before calming himself down enough to do it right. The dots swirled on the screen, loading his balance…. $278.48. He had nearly five thousand in there before he left. They must have left just enough so he didn’t notice immediately. He withdrew all that he could, $270 in cash, that’s all he had to his name anymore. He had never opened a credit card, but it wasn’t like it would do any good with his identity stolen. Oliver climbed back into his car and sobbed for hours. His luck continued to tumble. The wheel of his car that hit the curb now had a dangerous wobble to it, so highway driving was out of the question. The hotel the apartment manager set up for him was cancelled along with the lease, so he moved down to a cheap motel, but even that was burning through his cash too fast. He tried applying to every software firm he could find, but by his calculations by the time he even got his foot in the door for an interview, he would be homeless. As his situation worsened, he grew desperate. He had to sell his car to get enough money to keep going, and lowered his expectations, applying to fast food and retail stores, but now that he didn’t have reliable transportation, he couldn’t get in there either. And so, here he was, alone and hopeless. He could have reached out to his friends, or to his parents, but doing so would be admitting defeat, so he just left their messages on read, and hoped for one last chance to turn it around. Meanwhile, unknown to Oliver, Rose watched, and waited. Compared to her big sisters, she was almost nothing, but she was still a Daughter of Time, an Anomaly given will and purpose. Such small deviations were well within her power, and were all it took to bring him to his lowest. She smiled to herself, almost giddy at the idea of calling him her own. Tomorrow, she would finally get to bring her new baby home.

Hi, I've been requesting for a story for a while, and while I've objectively found some things that I like, most of the times I've found myself thinking "I would have done otherwise". So I decided to start writing one on my own. BUT! I wanna give you a fair warning before I start getting into the story 'cause I feel like you all deserve it, since I don't want to waste anyone's precious time. 1 - This is my first time writing a full story, so it is highly possible that it will be convoluted and lead to nothing. 2 - English is not my first language, so it's probably not gonna be an excellent piece of art, especially if you are someone who enjoys literature. 3 - The most important point. If you expect this get to the "kinky stuff" immediately, don't get into it. I like to take things slow and have that sweet characters development. 4 - Yes, I started this story elsewhere and I think here too but I will restart it and continue it now CHAPTER 01 "And why on Earth would I need an assistant again?" John Jefferson, 28, was 3 when he was diagnosed with a very rare disease that affects both muscles and bones, making them fragile; while it wasn't lethal on its own, it made it impossible for him to put any muscular mass by weight lifting, and also forced him to be cautious with his eating habits, since his legs might fail his structure him if he would have become overweight. On top of that, he was also on the shorter side, so being a 4'7very skinny man, he surely wasn't the bossiest looking dude in the office. Although his problems, he's always tried to get what was best for him and tried to give himself some authority. He grew a nicely shaped beard, he became witty and, contrary to most people in his position, he would always go to work wearing a suit and a tie. "First and foremost, it is a cost efficient solution. Our new employee is a promising intern that will work here for free for the next six months. If she, as I expect, will turn to be good enough, we will hire her with a full-time job, so I need someone qualified to teach her. " Ever since Mrs. Thompson retired, Janna Prickles, a 51 years old unmarried men hater became his new boss and things only started running slower for his career; it was bright as the day that Janna had a particular taste in torturing him. And the hate was mutual. Short and plumpy, she always used to wear overly coloured outfits that made her look like a knock off version of Queen Elizabeth. Fitting for her personality, John thought. John rolled his eyes and sighed "In other words, I have to babysit." but Janna blocked him with an evil grin. "I took care personally and decided for her amongst tons of other students who signed for this position. She's a quick learner, don't worry. Also, there's a second reason why I needed for you to have an assistant: even though you're better at your job than I like to admit, you're still an annoying little prick who needs to learn how to be organized, so she will take charges of your time schedules from now on." Truthfully, his office looked like a mess, and his schedules were all over the place, he couldn't argue with it. But there was more. "Oh I see now. It's about the Gravéneux fiasco! Look I told you already it was not my fault if Stuart went through my stuff and mixed 'em up lik-" "I know and that is why he had been fired. But let's be honest for a second here. Just coincidentally it wasn't your fault this time. It was surely not the first time your pig habits got in your way. I know this is more about pride than anything else, but you DO need help in that front. And you can be helpful yourself." That didn't sound very convincing at all to John, and she knew it; so, sighing and looking down, she continued her speech. "Fine, I knew it would have come to this. I've already hired her, as a matter of facts, she's already waiting in your office, as of now. Since I know that you need something to be motivated, here's your goal: in the next six months I want to have someone who is just as good as you doing your job, and you are the only one who can teach her. Make me proud, and you'll get a 6% raise." Finally she was talking business, he thought. John was a very proud and goal oriented person, and this seemed like a good deal, which he closed by shaking hands with his boss. He walked to his office and opened the door. His new assistant was standing there, right in front of him. <HOLY SHIT> was all he could think of, but he limited himself to think it, and open his eyes wide.

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.

A/N: Hey all! I just wanted to post this quick little one-shot! It’s currently 5:00 am and I wrote this to procrastinate sleeping. Hope you all enjoy!! ooOoo Poppy Jacobs. His flower. His little girl. She was his favorite of the girls he’d acquired so far. He’d forgotten what it felt like to take care of another. How to be a true Daddy. It was the most precious feeling in the world. He knew he made the right choice when he spotted her one year ago. Parker Montgomery was her name. A young college student who thought she was too smart for the world. But now she was exactly where and who she should be. He smiled, snapping a picture on his phone of his flower, the pointed pink party hat secured around her chubby face. Her warm brown eyes, full of resignation, glanced up at the camera. The fight was fun. It always was in the beginning but there came a point when they realized it was a losing game. Their broken spirit was just as rewarding- the first step in becoming truly his. “Flower, do you like your present?” a warm feeling spread throughout his chest, the smile radiating across his face. His flower was perfect- absolutely stunning. Not like the other Poppy’s who’d wilted and died. “Yeth Dada,” her voice was high, airy, obedient. She knew better than to disobey. The welts on her bottom were testament. “Tell Dada how much you love your birthday present baby!" his voice rose in excitement Tears filled her eyes and a drop slowly dribbled down her flushed pale skin. The chains of the restraints around her ankles and wrists jingled- a sweet reminder of her inability to escape. “Poppy wove her pwesent Dada,” she answered dejectedly, shackled hands in her lap. Submission- the one thing he craved was what he now had. There was a time she would’ve screamed and cried. There was a time she would’ve tried to attack and run. He treated her with meticulous care. Not a strand of her raven hair was out of place, pulled back in two tight ponytails on top of her head. Her skin was as smooth as a baby’s bottom, without a blemish and stomach round and full, due to her daily bottles of expressed breast milk and mashed foods. Now here she sat naked on her princess potty, body slumped down in defeat. Her sodden diaper stained yellow sat at her feet. “Dada knows it’s Poppy's birthday today and you want to be a big girl. If you can show Dada how you can use the big girl potty, maybe we can try pull-ups and potty training.” Her eyes lit up as if she’d just received a puppy. “You have ten minutes to make a tinkle and a poo-poo. When Dada comes back and if the princess potty is empty- bye-bye potty training. Do you understand, flower?” Like a bobble head, she nodded quickly, a new energy rushed through her body. “Words, poppy.” “Yeth, Dada!” ooOoo Today was March 17th. St. Patrick’s Day. Also known as the day of her kidnapping. In her kidnappers mind- her birthday. She only knew him by the name of Daddy, Dada, or Papa. He was careful not to reveal any information about himself. The most she’d found out about him in the past year was that he was a violent and dangerous man. If the illusions to previous captive girls told her anything- they were dead. He referred to them as his Flowers and the others having “wilted and died.” If that wasn’t a symbol for death, she didn’t know what was. After many spankings, soapy mouths, catheters and enemas, she learned there was a breaking point. The twenty one year old- now turned one- was not sure when it happened but it did. Like a file cabinet, her memories of before were stored away at the back of her brain so she could become who she is now. Parker Montgomery: the fit, sociable, Nebraska State College student, majoring in History was a thing of the past. A distant memory fading each day. Nowadays her only goal was making her daddy proud, finishing her bottles and being the best little girl she can be. She did not want to wilt and die. While Poppy knew, she’d possibly never gain her adulthood back, having been rendered incontinent, this was a first step. A baby step. An odd feeling churned in her tummy, seated on the pink plastic seat. It had been so long since she’d been out of her diapers. It’s not that she liked them but she’d become used to them. The soft padding felt like being cocooned in a warm fuzzy blanket. This potty was hard and plastic. It was cold beneath her powdered bottom. Before, if she even looked at the toilet, a severe lashing was applied against her tender skin. Now he wanted her to use it. She didn’t understand. Poppy could hear him in the kitchen, just around the corner. The television played. It was set to the show, Mr. Potty Head. A show for potty- training littles. Her eyes widened, the inflated pink paci bobbing up and down in her mouth. This was a no-no show. Wasn’t good for babies. Babies like her went potty in diapees. She would wait patiently, squishing around in her mess for dada to change her. First there was the front pat to see how wet she was and then the two fingers down the back. She’d lay back, spread her legs, and wait patiently as her dada untapped the padding and ran the warm wipe across her princess parts before powdering and re-diapering her. Sometimes it was double padding, sometimes it was triple. He said it made her more cute, crawling around the house with her diapered bum wiggling in the air as she swayed unsteadily on her hands and knees. Rarely was she clothed because it would make it too difficult for a quick change. She’d grown comfortable naked, learning to ignore her chubby stomach and thick thighs. Now, she was being given a chance to grow up. To prove that she was a big girl- something she’d desperately wanted. Why was she so afraid? All she had to do was push. Her eyes squeezed shut, nose wrinkling as she attempted to loosen her bowels. To let loose a little dribble of pee. C’mon Poppy! Be a big girl- “Flower?” Oh no. Her eyes flashed open, the warm tones of the grey room flooding back. The man with sandy colored hair, tan skin and sharp jaw peered down at her. His eyes, an ocean blue, narrowed. He towered over her, already a foot taller and frowned. The color drained from her face. She whimpered, “Dada!” He sighed, shaking his head and arms crossed over his chest. “It’s been ten minutes, baby.” She got lost in her mind. Again. “Did someone make a present for Dada?” Lying was what naughty girls did but telling the truth could get her spankies… “Baby? I’m waiting for an answer.” His tone was short. Clipped. If he heard the shakiness in her voice, he chose to not to comment. “I…” the words were numb on her tongue. “I no able to go pothy.” Her head bowed, waiting for the stern rebuke. But it never came. “You did your best, Flower.” his voice was unusually soft with a hint of sincerity? No. She couldn’t be hearing that right. Hesitantly, her head lifted up, surprised by the fact he’d squatted down to her height. “It’s ok, Poppy. Dada isn’t mad.” He’s not? She sunk down on the seat, her hand in his. “You’re just a baby. Girls as little as you aren’t ready to use the potty. That’s ok though because we have diapers.” Once again, tears welled up in her eyes and snot ran from her nose. No, please! One more try. One more- Her restrained arms shot out, reaching for him to pick her up. “Dadaaa!” The wail of a baby echoed from her body. Parker no! You’re bigger than this! “Potty scawy!” Stop this nonsense! Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life in a diaper? “I know, baby!” he cooed. “We’ll try again next year on your birthday. How about that, hmm? It seems someone wants to stay my little flower.” Yes. she sighed in relief, suckling on the rubber object. No, Parker, listen to me! Listen— Maybe even next year the restraints will come off. She’s been a good girl. She has, she really has! “Now let’s get you into a clean diaper. I bet that’ll feel good. Won’t it baby?” he asked gently. The man didn’t wait for a response, helping her shift down to the ground were a changing mat was already laid out. “Now Flower,” he began, fiddling with a few other things she couldn’t see. “Dada doesn’t want to do this but I want my favorite princess to have the best birthday.” Oh no. Please god, not this- “I know they are not your favorite people but Mr and Mrs. Bubbles wanted to wish you a happy birthday!” she could hear the smile in his voice, setting up the enema and suppositories. “Afterward you can play in your jolly jumper, how about that?” Well… that did sound pretty fun. Sometimes it was best just to ignore the big girl voices in her mind because that wasn’t who she was anymore. She was just a little baby. His little flower.

Anastasia Kashkirova was 35 years old. She a tall 5'6 blonde with beautiful green eyes and good D-breasts. Anastasia have been working for 5 years in a large organization called CompTech, which has been supplying all major companies with components for computers. She applied for the post of deputy general director of the company. But more recently, the young 22-year-old Ava Macrone was hired. And she shows herself on the good side. But she goes literally over the heads. She substitutes people and now she already occupies the same position as Anastasia. And what’s even worse for her is that it’s more like Ava's leadership. Anastasia thought for a long time what to do with her. "Just destroy it... You could end up in jail." And at that moment, she accidentally got to a site dedicated to the ADBL topic. Anastasia asked for a few stories and came up with a great idea... "Turn Ava into a babygirl. That's good. I'll become a mommy and I won't have to spoil my body with pregnancy." "Poor miss Macrone... Soon you will not even know how to hold the pen correctly. But first you need to lure the bird into the cage. There is an idea" - Anastasia thought with smile. She got up from her office and walked over to Ava's desk and sat down on the edge of the table. "Listen. I was just thinking. We need to bury the hatchet wars and become good friends. I decided to give up the vacancy in your favor. Come to me tonight and we will celebrate your appointment. What do you say?" Anastasia said and smiled the power with a sweet, but false smile, showing a mask of benevolence behind which hatred was hidden.

Little Gin-Gin's Trip to the Mall *this is only the first out of many to come* ooOoo Chapter 1: “Is my little Gin-gin excited to meet Santa!?” her mommy asked, gasping as if she were surprised. From their place in line, she could see about fifty other adult-babies with their mommies and daddies. Some eagerly awaited to meet the fat, white-haired man in the red suite while others sulked, mortified at the prospect of having to sit on a grown-man's lap in front of a crowd of strangers. “Are you going to tell Santa everything you want for Christmas?” the woman bounced her in her arms, squeezing the back of her thick oversized diaper. Crinkling loudly, Ginny didn’t give it a second thought. Her self worth had been lost a long time ago. No longer did she care who saw her naked or diapered. The mall, possibly the most public place you could be seen in, was where they were. Deck the Halls played loudly over the speakers and littles gathered around the large sparkly Christmas tree, eagerly watching the train go round and round in circles. The general atmosphere was a happy one. Holiday music filled the air as people did last minute Christmas shopping, dragging their littles in tow or dropping them off at the mall daycare. Ginny couldn’t help but blush as her mommy, placed a big sloppy wet kiss on her cheek. Her eyes drifted down, catching just a hint of the white diaper, peeking out from her frilled, velvety red dress. Soleless, shining black Mary Jane’s were strapped onto her feet and ruffled white socks that went up to almost her knees. The girl was convinced that dress up was her mommy’s favorite part of the day. Never was she to look less than her best, which meant looking the most little she could be. There was a time when she would’ve rebelled. There was a time she would've screamed and cried, refusing to leave the house until her mommy had to drag her out. But that time had passed and now she had resigned herself to the fact that she was never escaping. All she could do was suck it up and pretend. Good girls were rewarded with treats. Naughty girls received spankings. That was something she did not want. Next in line, a feeling of fear suddenly formed in the pit of her stomach. Gripping onto the front of her mommy’s shirt, the ginger-haired girl hid her face in the woman’s warm, soft bosom, tightening her legs around her waist. Laughs were heard as her mommy kissed her head, and they were called up. The fake Santa gave a friendly smile, motioning for them to come forward. “Ohhh, is the baby shy?” a worker cooed, approaching them. He was dressed as an elf with big ears, pointy shoes and a pointy hat. “Why doesn’t mommy come up with us! You wouldn’t want Santa to forget any presents, would you?” Could Santa grant her her freedom? Could Santa give her a phone so she could call the police and escape this place? The answer was no. There was nothing Santa could give her. They didn’t wait for an answer and her heart skipped a beat as she was taken from the warmth of her mommy’s arms. It was sickening how much she had begun to depend on her. A high pitched squeal escaped her lips as she was placed on the man’s lap, pressed against his beer belly. It didn’t surprise her at how she fit perfectly snug on his lap and he held onto her waist, ensuring she didn’t slip off. “Well, hohoho! You can call me Santa, what's your name?” the man asked in a loud jovial voice, his breath smelling of mint. His long beard tickled her skin leaving her wanting to pull on it. “M-mommy cawl me, Gin-gin ow Ginny!” as she spoke, drool dribbled from her mouth, and if the Santa imposter noticed or cared, he didn’t show it. Beside them, her mommy beamed, taking numerous pictures on her phone. Ginny knew that when spoke it either had to be in her baby voice or she was to stay silent. She had worked hard to perfect the high and squeaky voice, but her inability to pronounce words came naturally after over half of her teeth were removed and twisted around in her mouth. Was she in constant immense pain? Yes. Did her mommy care? No. She thought her speech impediment was cute and teethers had become her new best friend. Plus the constant drooling that resulted from the procedure was an extra bonus. “Well, Gin-gin, have you been a good or a naughty girl?” “Goo’!” she squealed, bouncing lightly in his lap, much to the enjoyment of everyone watching. In another life, she could’ve been an actress. That’s how good she was at pretending. “Why don’t you tell Santa what you want for Christmas.” She leaned forward, smelling the faintest whiff of cinnamon and cupped her hand around his ear, coming up with things on the spot. “My elves down at the North Pole are working very very hard to prepare. I can promise that you are going to have a very happy Christmas.” She continued to smile, giggling at all the right moments as she sucked on her fingers. A woman elf stood behind the camera, making funny faces as they did with all littles to get them to smile. Ginny beamed, making sure to show her toothless mouth as the pictures were taken. Beside them stood Jill Anderson, usually a stern woman, but today unusually happy. The woman already knew what her Christmas cards were going to be as she glanced down at her little’s exposed diaper, rapidly turning yellow, and she didn’t even realize. This year was going to be a great Christmas. ooOoo A/N: Hey! I just wanted to do a quick Christmas one shot, since the holidays are coming up!! For those who don’t remember or didn’t read it, Ginny was the new nurse from Emmy’s story who was taken and regressed by Jill Anderson, the mean nurse. I will be doing more of these quick one shots for the other characters I’ve created in this Little Beginnings universe! Hope you enjoy and happy holidays to everyone celebrating Christmas and Hanukkah!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've decided to consolidate these little scenes into a single series of posts I'm calling Raising Husbands. New entries will appear on Patreon approximately two weeks before I post them here. _______ I do a lot of long stories (too long sometimes) and wanted to try something very short. I suspect I'll post a number of what I'm calling these short scenes, composed mostly of dialogue, in this universe I've created. Right now, I think each scene will be entirely episodic and not connected to the others. Enjoy! Date Night “What would you like to drink,” the waitress asked the two of them. “First bottle is on me,” Jess said, and ordered a Brunello. “Are we celebrating something,” Susie asked, happy Jess ordered a bottle much more expensive than what she would ever get for herself. “Of course we are: it’s Friday.” The waitress returned with the bottle and served two glasses. “Let’s drink to something,” Jess excitedly said, the glass in her hand seeming to make the weekend official. Susie raised her glass. “A toast: to babysitters.” “Damn right,” Jess laughed. “And another toast: to our husbands, without whom a Friday night out wouldn’t be nearly so special.” “Amen,” Susie added before taking another drink. “Been a hell of a week,” Jess said, shaking her head. “But it’s Friday, and Ryan is spending the night.” “Good for you. What time are you picking him up tomorrow?” “Not until lunch time.” “Ugh. Jealous. Well, I’m sure you’ve earned it.” “You don’t know the half of it,” Jess said. “Four times this week, and it’s only Friday.” “Four?” Susie was surprised but not shocked. Two was average for Jess, three not uncommon, but to have to give Ryan four spankings in a week? That was unusual. “How did he manage to get in so much trouble?” “The really amazing part is it wasn’t five. I try, seriously – you know I do – to give him a little leeway, but it’s like the seasons change and he turns into this crazy person who wants to argue over every little thing. First spanking was over making his bed, if you can believe that. At his age!” Susie didn’t see perfectly eye to eye with her friend on discipline. She knew Ryan could be a handful, but Jessica had a hair trigger on her hairbrush, and Ryan’s butt paid the price for it. “Just because he wouldn’t make the bed?” “Because of the attitude that went with it. He actually threw a pillow at me.” “You’re kidding!” “And as soon as he did it, his eyes were like saucers. He knew immediately how much trouble he was in. Why he can’t think one step ahead … anyway, it’s the same struggle as usual, trying to get him to stick to the chore chart.” “You know there’s an easier way,” Susie said knowingly, swirling the wine in her glass. “We’re just going to disagree about that,” Jess replied. “I mean, he’s yours, so you do what you think is right, but Jake is one spoiled …” As very close friends, they were comfortable with some gentle joshing. It was hardly the first time of the fiftieth they’d discussed this. “He’s not spoiled!” “You do everything for him.” “It’s not everything, and I just made a choice: I could spend as much time trying to get Jake to behave like you do with Ryan and still end up redoing whatever it is I asked him to do, or I could just do it myself in half the time.” “Fair enough. Who did you find to sit anyway?” “Liz is home for the weekend.” “Your neighbor’s daughter?” “Mhmm. She’s good with him. You know with his potty problems, well, not every sitter is willing to deal with that.” “Another problem spanking his bottom for him could help.” “It would not,” Susie said. “You always say that.” “It couldn’t hurt. Well, it wouldn’t hurt you, anyway,” Jess snickered “Leave my Jakey alone. He’s doing the best he can. You make it sound so much worse than it is. It’s not the end of the world.” Susie always underplayed how much of a problem it was, but it was true as far it went – it was a problem, and it caused other problems, but it wasn’t the end of the world that Jake still had potty issues at his age. “You're right. I’m sorry.” “So how did you get to four anyway,” Susie asked. Even if she didn’t agree with how strict her friend could be, she wasn’t judgmental about it. A lot of people, maybe even most, were pro-spanking where they lived, even if Jess was on the leading edge of the trend. Susie’s curiosity got the better of her. “Bathroom issues, as a matter of fact. In my life, I have never seen such a mess.” “What happened?” “I let him take a bath on his own. He’s been wanting to for a while and trying to convince me. We even did a trial run with me just sitting in the bathroom and him bathing himself. I finally relented and let him solo.” “Well, with you expecting him to do so much cleaning, why not clean himself,” Susie said with a chuckle. “How bad was it?” “Standing water on the floor. He said he was playing tidal wave.” “Ceiling leak?” “No, thank god. I yanked him out of the tub, sat down on the toilet and pulled him right over my knee. He was soaked, I was soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad at him.” “Maybe you should have waited until you had calmed down.” “O, trust me, I did. That was just a preview. All that did was start his crocodile tears, but when I told him, ‘We are going to clean up this mess, and then mommy is going to spank your bottom blue’ the real tears started. I mean, granted thinking ahead is not his strong suit, but what did he think was going to happen? He got a little taste of natural consequences, too.” “How’s that?” “The towels were soaked. He just had to endure being cold and naked.” Susie grimaced. “I think even I would’ve spanked Jakey if he did something like that, but don’t you think that was a little harsh?” “It was only five minutes. We got the worst of it cleaned up, and I went and got a towel from my bathroom. I warmed him up, we had a little talk, got him spanked and then straight into bed. I cleaned up the rest.” “I wish that were the sort of bathroom issue I was dealing with.” “What does his doctor say?” “To just keep working at it. It’s not …” Susie shook her head and pour another glass. “He just won’t do it away from home, and even if we are home, he won’t unless I’m there.” “Still?” Susie nodded. “He just holds it and holds it until he can’t anymore, and then he tries to hide what happened. His daycare says it can’t keep happening.” “What do they want you to do?” “Give him an enema every morning before I bring him in, which his doctor says is the worst possible thing to do. She says he won’t ever learn if we do that.” “What are the other options?” “There’s the surgery, but I don’t want to do that yet. That’s why I like Liz so much. She’s so good about handling the episodes. I mean, he trusts her so much more because of how good she is about it, she’s the only sitter he likes enough that he won’t cry when I leave. If only his daycare would be half as good about it.” “Maybe you need to find a new daycare.” “I’m not sure that would help; I could see that just making it more difficult with the new place and new people. And the episodes obviously bother the staff a whole lot more than they bother Jakey. Of course, that’s kinda the problem since he won’t tell them, but he does seem to like it there.” “Well, I know I keep coming back to this but you’ve tried rewarding Jake. Maybe it’s time…” “He’s doing his best, Jessica. Why you think that’s the solution to every problem …” “It’s how I was raised. I always knew I’d be a spanker. My mom was; she gave me spanking authority over my brothers when I was … I’m not sure, exactly. Anyway, I gave Billy a spanking just last week, too. Wasn’t even babysitting. I was just visiting, and he got told for the millionth time to stop running in the house and didn’t stop, so I snagged him right out of the air. Mom got the paddle from the kitchen and finished the job.” “I know it’s the preferred way these days,” Susie said. “I just don’t … I don’t like doing it. Guess I’m just a softie. And Jakey is so … it’s not like I’ve never spanked him.” “Well, I know you’ve given him a few swats before.” “That counts as a spanking.” “I’ve given Ryan that much for a warning.” “Jakey is more sensitive than Ryan. I mean, for heaven's sake, he’s too embarrassed to tell his daycare teacher he has a load in is pants. Give Jake a pop on the butt, and he full on sobs. Ryan lives his life like he’s the second coming of Tarzan. A pop on the butt doesn’t even get through to him.” “If only. That would have prevented the third and fourth trip he took over my knee this week.” “What happened?” “Toy store.” “Why were you buying him a toy if he was being such a pill all week?” “Carrots and sticks. I promised him if he did the dishes every night for one week without needing to be reminded, he could pick out a toy under $30. Just goes to prove he’s fully capable of remembering his chores without being told. He just doesn't because he doesn't want to.” “So toy store meltdown?” “Big time. I did my very best to calm him down. I told him we could pick a different chore for him to remember, something a little harder, and that could be his reward later. Nope. I showed him other toys. Nope.” “That’s a shame. Turning what should’ve been a nice outing into something you both regret.” “Yeah. I guess I should’ve just marched him out of there at the first whine instead of trying to salvage it … I just wanted to do something nice. Anyway, I gave him a warning swat on his reset button, and it didn’t even faze him. He paused for, like, half a second before just getting louder. Then I’m that woman in the toy store, telling him, ‘Do you want a toy, or do you want mommy to spank your naughty bottom in front of all these people?’” “Guess he didn’t choose the toy,” Susie surmised. “Doesn’t that sort of thing embarrass you?” “Spanking him in public? In another time and place, maybe, but the people at the toy store have to be used to it. I’m convinced that’s why there are three benches right in front of the store. And pretty much every woman has had that moment … What I do find is embarrassing is Ryan behaving that way. If only he were as embarrassed by his own behavior as he was by the consequences. I spank-marched him back into the mall, and that’s when he turned red and couldn’t stop stammering apologies.” “Poor little guy,” Susie commented. “I mean, I know he earned it, but it’s not entirely his fault.” “How is it not his fault,” Jess asked incredulously. “He has poor impulse control. Sometimes they just can’t help it until it’s too late.” “Right. How inconvenient for him that he always seems to remember to control his impulses right around the moment I’m unbuttoning his pants. That and when I refer to myself as ‘mommy’ is when he’s suddenly so modest and embarrassed.” Jessica shook her head. “Anyway, you know how it is. Some people stop to watch a public spanking or think it’s good for their own to watch as a warning; others just keep walking. Makes no difference. I took his pants down, got the paddle out of the diaper bag, and put him over my knee. He managed to keep his composure for about two swats.” “At least you left his diaper up.” “O no, that came down as well. Public or not, he needed a bare bottom spanking. I don’t care if he is 36. If that boy needs a bare bottom spanking, I’m gonna bare and spank that bottom likes he’s 20 years old.” “Hold on,” Susie said and took out her vibrating phone. A wide smile formed across her face, and she practically bounced in her seat in excitement. “Yes!” “What? Share!” “Jakey did it!” “Really? Aww. That’s great. What exactly happened?” “He just did it. Liz and him were playing with his cars, and he just filled his diaper right there.” “He didn’t go and hide first?” “Nope. Ugh, so proud.” Susie tapped on her phone and waited a few seconds for a reply. “And then when she asked him if he had anything to tell her, he actually told her what he’d done. Liz is a miracle worker! Any other sitter, he would’ve tried to hold it until he was in pain and then gone and hide. The only other person besides me he’ll just go around when he needs to is his mother, and not even me sometimes. I’m ordering more wine.” “Champagne. Let’s celebrate.” “Even better! Ya know, I think the last time I had champagne was when Jakey and I got married. His mother told me he was diaper-shy when we started negotiating, but I didn’t think we’d still be working on getting him over it for this long.” She let out a short sigh of contentment, flagged down their waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne. “Anyway,” she said as the waitress walked away, “you said four. That was only three.” “Sorry?” “You said the toy store incident led to spankings three and four, but that was only three.” “O. Well, I got him rediapered and walked him out of the mall, sans pants of course. He cried most of the way home, and he was quiet and sulky all through dinner. We were doing the dishes together, and as soon as we were done – can you believe this – he actually asked me if we could go back to the toy store the next day.” “You’re kidding.” “Not even a little. I explained natural consequences to him for about the billionth time and that he would not be getting a new toy this week, and that’s when meltdown number 2 started. I got the paddle right back out and bared him all over again, spanked his butt, and put him straight to bed after we had some cuddle time. To his credit, he did apologize the next day.” “You definitely got a willful one,” Susie remarked. “It’s why his mother wanted me to have him. She knew he’d need a firm hand.” “Who did you get to babysit tonight?” Susie asked because Ryan had a reputation in the neighborhood; it wasn’t so easy finding a sitter for him. “My mom.” “Hopefully he’s being an angel for her.” “Hopefully, but if history is any guide, he’s probably in a corner right now listening to Billy get a spanking and waiting for his turn. Those two get each other so wound up, it’s almost a certainty if they’re together for than an hour they’re going to get themselves in trouble.” “How old is Billy now?” “Twenty-six.” “Is your mom having any luck finding him a wife?” “it’s hard. He’s not exactly what women want in a husband these days.” “It’s so unfair. It’s not his fault he has a big penis.” Jess shrugged. “You know how much more work they can be, all the behavioral problems those men seem to have.” “I think that’s a myth. If they’re well trained by their moms and their wives keep up with the training and milk them regularly, I think they’re angels.” “Then do you want him? Mom’s been building up a pretty sweet dowry.” Susie blushed. “Um, no. Sorry. One's enough for me.” Their champagne arrived, and they raised their glasses. Jess toasted, “To Jakey. Let’s hope tonight was a breakthrough and his diaper shyness is a thing of the past.” Susie toasted, “To Ryan. May he one day go an entire week without needing a spanking.” Jessica finished her flute of champagne in a swallow. “That’s how a wife who doesn’t have to pick up her husband until lunch time drinks,” Susie joked. “Damn right. I guess we should order some food before we go back to my place.” Susie looked around the restaurant. How quiet and clean and civilized it was, not a man in sight. Much as she looked forward to telling Jakey how proud of him she was for using his diaper like a good boy, she didn’t want Break Night/Date Night to end too soon.

We were still together, that was a start. After what I had done I would nt have blamed my wife Poppy if she had slapped my face,thrown me out of our marital home of three years and changed all the locks. I'd lost count how many times I'd asked myself how could I have been so stupid. Yes, it was nt a long sordid affair, it was just one drunken mistake but why did it have to be with Lola, Poppy's best friend of over 20 years and why it Gods name did it have to end with Lola pregnant with my child. That news alone could have broken Poppy as we'd had no luck after trying for a child over the last 12 months. It's not as if they are similar, Poppy I'd always describe as a "skinny blonde", quite quiet and shy but with a smile that would light up any room she walked into. Lola on the other hand was what many in the pub called "a mouthy piece", dark hair and far thicker set than Poppy, she bore more than a passing resemblance to English Celebrity chef Nigella Lawson. I did nt think she was my type but Mr Jim Beam had proved to me different. I still think back to how I found myself in Lola's company when Poppy had gone to stay at her mothers house up North for the weekend. Time has dulled even the smallest memories of the night, a quick fumble in a drunken haze that left neither of us exactly sexually fulfilled but created a new life. I can Just about recall the horror we both felt in the morning as we woke up in the same bed and perhaps we would and could have kept it a secret from my lovely Poppy and everyone else if it was nt for 'Junior' That day, sitting next to Poppy, holding her hand, as I confessed to my indiscretion was one memory I would happily wipe from my mind. The hurt on her pretty face was heart breaking, never had I felt such a let down as the horrible news sank in with the love of my life. The days of tears that followed almost drove me to the point of suicide. I could nt bear my Princess being in such emotional pain. 6 months down the line things had improved, whilst it was never far from our minds, Lola's growing tummy helped that, it did nt dominate our lives. Our relationship dynamics had changed over the time, always mindful that I had almost finished our marriage, I became more passive, Poppy on the other hand had began to assert herself becoming the dominant one whereas before she'd been happy to let me the lead the way. The friendship between Poppy and Lola had also changed too, bizarrely it had got stronger, they saw each other much more regularly then before she was pregnant, Lola was a constant visitor to our home. I was never sure whether it was because Poppy wanted to keep reminding me of my mistake or whether she was keen to have an input in the little life created by her two closest friends. I of course tried to avoid being left on my own with Lola. Whilst I was sure that I/we would never make the same mistake again there was no reason to tempt fate. If Lola and myself were in the same room I’d always use Poppy as a screen, Poppy was always between myself and Lola which meant that I’ve never had to address the ‘baby situation’ and how the birth will affect the rest of our lives. That was until that fateful day. I had sensed that something was up on the Friday after returning home from work. Poppy was very quiet and whilst that was nt unusual her eyes showed that she was deep in thought. “Dan” she eventually broke the silence. “Yes sweet” I replied “We need to talk about Lola and the baby” It was the first time she’d used the b word in my presence. “Of course dear, I know I made the biggest mistake of my life but with your help I can do the right thing going forward” “The right thing?” Poppy smirked “The right thing would have to keep your thing in your trousers and we would nt be in this situation” I nodded silently as Poppy continued. “As you know, your baby has only a few months before it arrives and prior to that there are going to be some changes” Poppy went on to explain that Lola’s small one bedroom flat was wholly unsuitable for a child to grow up in. And that the tomorrow (Saturday) Lola would be moving into our 4 bedroom townhouse. That way she could help with child and I’d be able to do my job and provide for my offspring. Twice I tried to interrupt Poppy but with a finger lifted to her lips she dismissed my protestations. “Also as a first time Mother and with no siblings or other children in the family Lola is very nervous about looking after a baby” “She’s going to need some help, and that’s where you come in” Keen to stay on Poppy’s good side I would have done almost anything. “Of course Princess, let me know what I can do” Poppy just smiled “Good boy”

Avery peered across the room to make sure Hannah was still asleep, before her and Chris made love. Hannah was forced to listen from her playpen a few feet away, all the same. She was only pretending to still be asleep - an attempt to avoid the embarrassing exhibition of asking her ‘friends’ to change her messy diaper... fruitlessly so. “PEWWW...!” Avery scrunched her face as she moved past Hannah’s playpen on her way to the bathroom. “I think somebody made a stinky...” “I’ll get her up.” Chris grunted from the bed. “Grab a fresh diaper on your way out.” “Don’t bother.” Avery yelled from the bathroom. “She’s probably going to have to go again as soon as she gets up. Go start breakfast. I’ll Change her after she eats.” Hannah pouted meekly to herself. She sunk her face deeper into the pillow. This was worse than just asking them to change her an hour ago. When she first woke up. She had already finished messing herself shortly after that. There was no way Avery was going to believe her now though. She hated when Avery talked about her like this. Hannah’s mom used to say the same kind of stuff about her sister’s baby when she was growing up - not to mention, she was going to have to sit through breakfast in a soiled diaper now. a little while later... Hannah was sitting at the table with Chris and Avery. Only... she was sitting in a pile of her own make, squeezed ever so tightly into her high-chair. Eating scrambled eggs, and drinking orange juice from a sippy cup. Avery and Chris were sipping on Mimosas, and eating gravlax cream cheese bagels and caviar. Her blood started to boil. This shit had been going on for weeks. Every passing day she felt more and more like she was actually a baby. See... Hannah wasn’t a baby. In fact she was 22 years old. She was only being treated like a baby by her ‘friends’. It was a slippery slope from too many shots of tequila and peeing her pants - to eating scrambled eggs, with no mimosa, in a messy diaper. She glared across the table, working up the courage to end this pageant of ridicule. “I swear... I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s being such a brat. You’d think she would try to act a little more mature if she didn’t want to be treated like a baby.” Avery declared. Talking as if Hannah wasn’t right next to her. Perfectly capable of following the conversation. “Mmmm... You really outdid yourself this time.” Avery had just taken a drink of her mimosa. “Anyway. I was thinking about heading to the store today for a few things. I was going to bring her with me. Maybe she just needs to get out of the house.” That was it... “I’M NOT A BABY!” Hannah bashed her fists on the tray of her highchair. Before shaking it violently to a means of escape. She managed to free herself. She was furious. She stood over Avery, and let her have it. “JUST BECAUSE THIS IS YOUR PARENTS BEACH HOUSE DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET TO TREAT ME LIKE THIS! I’M A GROWN WOMAN! NOT A BABY!” She screamed. Pointing her finger at Avery over and over. Aggressively. “I DON’T NEED TO SIT IN A HIGHCHAIR... OR SLEEP IN A CRIB!” Tears started to run down her face. “AND... I’M OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK!” She grabbed Avery’s mimosa of the table and drank it with a vengeance. “AND... AND... I DON’T NEED TO WEAR DIAPERS!!!” “Are you done?” Avery reached across the table and took hold of Chris’s Mimosa. “Good.” She took a generous sip before continuing. “First of all... This IS my parent’s lake house. I can’t have you running around making little messes everywhere. It isn’t my fault you can’t hold your pee pee and poo poo like a big girl anymore.” She paused for another strong sip. “Which brings me to my second point... you are in fact a part of the small demographic that does need to wear diapers. Can you guess what that group is?” Avery quizzically teased. She didn’t leave much time for Hannah to respond. “THAT’S RIGHT... people who pee and poop in their pants, like little babies.” One more sip. “AND... I WOULDN’T HAVE TREATED YOU SO MUCH MORE LIKE A BABY IF YOU DIDN’T ACT LIKE ONE!!! YOU’VE ALWAYS ACTED LIKE ONE! IF YOU DON’T LIKE THE RULES... THERE’S THE DOOR!” Avery motioned rapaciously to the front door of the lake house. “Good luck out there in the city, with this covid shit... and you still owe me these last two months of rent here.” She pulled her phone out before Hannah could get in a word. “And good luck with your instagram career... after all your followers see these!” Avery shoved her phone in Hannah’s face, and started swiping through dozens of pictures - a complete compendium of Hannah’s regression. “GO ON THEN... GO!!! I haven’t even got to the videos yet!” “I... I... I Just...” Hannah couldn’t make words through her desperate sobbs. “IM SORRY!!! I’M SO... SO... SORRY AVERY!!!” She wheezed and wailed hysterically. “Please... Please don’t show anybody those... those pictures.” Her face was drenched in tears. Snot was running from her nose. “That’s what I thought.” Avery set her phone down on the table. “Now get these dishes cleaned up, and meet me in the bedroom to get cleaned up.” Avery made stern eye contact with hannah. “Rinse them. Don’t just throw them in the sink.” “Can we... I just thought...” Hannah struggled to find a coherent sting of words that wouldn’t piss Avery off again. “Can we what?” Avery scoffed, purposefully to the contestant. “I Just... I...” Hannah’s body shivered, before going rigid, behind an arched back, and she picked herself up onto her tippy toes. “You just what!?! Spit it out.” Avery said shortly. “UH OH... I know that face.” Chris announced. Finally throwing his two cents into this morning’s invariably festive breakfast conversation. Hannah looked at Chris through wide desperate eyes. She couldn’t stand to look at Avery. Tears started to roll down her cheeks again. She bent her knees awkwardly in towards one another, and lurched forward - favoring a hunchback. she remained almost motionless for a generous amount of seconds. Bar the occasional shiver, and leg spasm. Hannah couldn’t believe this was happening right after that argument. “Someones making a little mess...” Chris continued. “See I told you she would have to go again as soon as she ate something. Never fails.” Avery shook her head hollowly. “Okay... well... get these dishes cleaned up, and then I’ll get you cleaned up, and then... we’re gonna go to the store.” Avery moved towards the door. She turned around right before she pulled it open.” Hannah thought for a split second that Avery was going to tell her to come get her diaper changed before she cleaned up breakfast. A fast burnt fire. “Chris. Don’t forget to mow the lawn, and start cleaning out the garage when we’re gone today.” Avery left the dining room with that, and made her way towards the bedroom. Shouting the whole way until neither Chris or Hannah could hear what she was saying. “Y'ALL DON’T JUST GET TO LIVE HERE FOR FREE... THIS IS MY...” Hannah looked at Chris as soon as Avery’s voice trailed off into the aether. “Please help me Chris!” She whispered manically. Trying to hold back more tears. “You know this isn’t right Chris... We’re friends!”

I awoke lying on my back naked, staring up at the ceiling. Noticing an odd sensation in my hand, I lifted it and saw that I was still wearing my wedding ring. I smiled, admiring it on my hand. ‘Lily’s Husband’ had a nice ring to it, I thought. Just then, the door opened, and I turned to see the woman in question entering the room. “Oh, Aaron! You’re finally awake!” “Finally?” I asked, starting to sit up, but she pushed my chest back down with one hand. She was holding something in her other hand - if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a diaper. “Impatient for more loving?” I smirked. “No, Aaron, don’t you remember?” She said. “We got into an accident on the way back from the wedding. You’ve been unconscious for months, and the doctors say you’re going to be paralyzed for the rest of your life.” “Accident?” I said. “We didn’t have an accident. And I’m not paralyzed, look!” I lifted my arm. She took my hand in hers. “Oh, I’m afraid you are. Look, you can’t move your hands at all.” At those words, a peculiar shock went through me, starting between my shoulder blades and running down both arms. I felt a heaviness go through them, and when she gently set my hand down, I couldn’t move it anymore. Or the other one, lying on the bed beside me. Panic flooded through me. “What’s going on? I can’t move my hands!” I cried out, and kicked, trying to leverage my legs to sit up. “I told you, you had an accident.” Lily said, and stroked my leg soothingly. “You can’t move your legs, either.” This time, the tingle started in the small of my back, and shot down both legs. They went limp, the bent one flopping against Lily, who gently straightened it out. “Lily, what’s going on? Why are the things you’re saying coming true?” I asked. “Because they are true, honey.” She said. “I’m your wife, would I lie to you?” “Can I talk to the doctor?” I asked. “I want to see the doctor.” “Of course.” Lily said. “I’ll just get you dressed and in your wheelchair.” I lay there helplessly as she dressed me, my mind racing. What was happening? How was this possible? Had I actually had an accident, and I was just not remembering things right because of a head injury? When she picked me up, cradling me in her arms like an oversized, ungainly baby, I yelped, thinking I was going to fall. But her grip was firm and strong. “How?” I asked, staring at her. “How can you pick me up so easily?” “I’m your wife.” Lily said. “It’s my job to look after you.” She set me down in a wheelchair and started strapping me in. As she did, another problem came to my attention. I really, really needed to pee. “Um, Lily. Before we go, can we stop off at the bathroom?” I asked. “I need to pee.” “Are you sure?” She asked. I scoffed. “I can tell when I need to pee.” I said. She started stroking my crotch, and I was surprised to feel something thick and crinkly, muffling the sensation from her hand. Was I wearing a diaper? I hadn’t been paying attention when she dressed me, but I should have noticed that! “No, you can’t.” She said. “Ever since the accident, you can’t feel when you need to pee, it just happens.” “No!” I exclaimed, and tried to pull away, but I could already feel a tingle traveling from my dick up into my core. As it faded, I realized the sensation of needing to pee was gone. And in its place, I felt a warm, wet sensation growing in my crotch area. I was wetting myself, I realized. It was such a strange feeling. I couldn’t feel my bladder or the muscles that controlled my pee. I couldn’t really feel it coming out at all. All I could feel was the wetness against my dick and balls, soaking into my pubic hair. “How are you doing this, Lily?” I asked. “Taking care of you?” She asked, flicking some sort of lever on the side of the wheelchair and wheeling me out. “I’m your wife, in sickness and in health.” I shook my head. “Whenever you tell me something the accident did, it comes true.” I said. “You’re doing this somehow.” “Oh, no, honey. You’re confused. You suffered a head injury, you know.” She said. “You were in a coma for months. The doctors sent you home, they said you might never recover. I’m amazed you’re even awake, I’m not surprised you’re disoriented.” I shook my head, but didn’t say anything. She was right about one thing - I was confused. My instincts were screaming at me that something was wrong, and somehow, she was doing it. But how was that possible? She pushed me to the kitchen. “Let’s get you fed, first.” She tucked my wheelchair up against the table and took out a cloth to cover my front, and then poured a bowl of cereal. “Eat up.” I hated being fed like a baby, but it wasn’t like I had any choice in the matter. I certainly couldn’t feed myself. So I opened my mouth and let her spoon the cereal in as I chewed unhappily. She didn’t say anything as I ate, seemingly focused on her task. But when she brought the last spoonful up, she steadied my face with one hand and directed the food in with the other, and she spoke. “It’s so sad that you can’t even talk.” She said. “It must be so frustrating for you, not being able to do anything.” I swallowed so fast I nearly choked, as the tingling started in my throat and permeated my mouth and cheeks. “Please, nnnn.” I said. “Mmuh.” It was too late, I realized. I couldn’t even get one last sentence out to beg her to stop. She wiped my face clean, then pulled me forward against her torso. “I’d better check your diaper. I know you can’t control your poop anymore, and you usually need to poop right after a meal.” As the tingle in my butt faded, I let out a grunt as I involuntarily pushed out a mess into my diaper. I was vaguely aware that I’d also started peeing again. “I knew it! Phew-ee! You’re stinky!” Lily said. “I’d better get you changed right away!” I tried to ask her why she wanted me to be messing myself if it was so gross. “Um-muh.” Right, I couldn’t talk. She wheeled me into the living room and laid out a plastic sheet, then lifted me onto it. “Don’t worry, Aaron. Even if you never recover, I’ll always be here to take care of you.” She said as she opened up my diaper and started wiping me clean.

How the Scholarship Works: Chapter1: A four foot eight darker tan girl with a round plushy child-like face sat in the passenger seat, her black bangs just long enough to cover her amber eyes from view, and her other black locks falling wildly to each side of her face in a rat’s nest of tangles. She smelled because she hadn’t bathed in almost three days, and her short blue jean shorts that didn’t quite cover the tops of her panties had a tear in the right legging that exposed her panty bottoms along the back of her thigh. Her yellow shirt that barely had sleeves was stained and dingy. She was a typical teenager from the poorest area of coban, a modest sized city in Guatemala. Sitting next to her, in the driver’s seat, was a man with yellow balding hair near the top of his head and blue sparkling eyes. He was nearly six foot three. Quite the contrast to the short teen, the man was wearing a crisp white clean button down short sleeve shirt and a pair of blue jean trousers that more than modestly covered him. He smelled more of soap and his hair of the shampoo that he had used not more than a couple of hours earlier. The girl was not really ashamed of what she was wearing, how she smelled, or that her panties were practically visible because this was what she had to wear most of her life since she could remember. All of her clothes were stained, even when she first got them since they were all hand-me-downs that people donated to her poor family. None of her clothes ever fit her properly, always having holes in the most intimate places, so that she was used to people seeing parts of her panties and she always wore an undershirt because otherwise, they would see her bra, not that even at the age of nineteen, she had a bosom that even required one. She did try to clean up a bit in the nearby lake that morning because she was going somewhere important with a man that claimed to have her future in his hands, but the lake could only get you so clean. In her own home, the water wasn’t working properly again, and so there was no way they could fill the tub with nice warm water for a proper bath. There was no working shower since she could even remember. “Your clothes are not appropriate for our school,” the man had told the young girl back at her aunt and uncle’s house. “They are too… inappropriate for the college I represent.” She could understand what he meant when she saw how nice he looked, even when they were just going to be on the road for the next few days. She nodded and left all of her clothes at home, not even bringing one change of clothes with her. “We’ll, that is the school, will get you some decent clothes,” the man had told the young girl. “It’s all a part of the scholarship that you’ve won.” Breanna was ashamed that she had to rely on the school’s money to get her something decent to wear, but she was also a bit excited to actually get to get some hand-me-downs that might actually look nice for once. She assumed it would be hand-me-downs. No one ever gave poor people new stuff after all. Who could afford to? As they drove through the rough country, driving up and down rolling hills that was in the mountains with trees and bushes lining the sides of the one lane a-side-road, sprinkled dots of water started to pepper the windshield of the red and black four door hatchback. It had the effect that that Breanna could imagine some Central American god was spitting at her, and she understood perfectly why, if that were the case. Breanna didn’t deserve any of this. Ever since she was around ten or eleven years old, she had been told how undeserving of a good home she really was, and that she was just lucky her aunt and uncle knew she was family. You see, she came to live with her aunt and uncle when she was almost eleven years of age, and at that time, she was still growing out of some shameful childish habits like wetting the bed, and even in her pants at times. She didn’t really mean to wet her pants or the bed, but for some reason, she just couldn’t control herself long enough, especially when at school during classes, so she wet herself not only in fifth grade, but also in sixth grade, seventh grade, and sometimes, even in the eighth grade before her daytime wetting had mostly stopped enough that she had no more accidents at school. She could still hear her aunt scolding her for that last time in eighth grade when she came to pick her up from school. “Breanna! How old are you?” she had asked her the way she always started a scold when Breanna had wet her pants. “It’s no wonder your father abandoned you after your mother died of drug overdosing. You wet your pants like a baby, you eye drugs like it was candy, and you never do anything right, not even your homework!” She felt her eyes tear up as she sat there in the car, knowing her aunt was right. She wondered why the school chose her. She surely didn’t write that good of an essay, and it likely had so many mistakes in it, that they probably wondered if someone in junior high or younger was trying to play a joke on them, trying to get into their school…. “What’s wrong?” Mr. Oswald glanced away from the road momentarily so he could see her sitting there, her head staring down at her lap, tears welling in her eyes, her body shaking with a vibration that had nothing to do with the ill-repaired roads that they were driving on. Breanna sniffled and pulled her head up, sniffled to try to will her snot and tears to go back into her body to hide away. She looked over at the man and shook her head. “No… nothing,” she whispered, though the raspy mostly air filled response gave away a different story. “Honey, you can tell me. It’s okay. It’s just the two of us and no one in this car is going to judge you whatever reason you feel like crying, honey.” She looked up at him. “I promise, I’m okay,” she was still having a hard time keeping mostly air out of her responses which made her voice sound strange, somewhere between a whisper and a voiced sound. He smiled and turned back on the road. “A lot of young people get homesick rather quickly when they realize they are on their way to school that would last four years,” he told her. “It’s alright to miss your family and to cry because you are scared.” She shivered. “I’m not crying cause I’m scared,” she whimpered. “Alright,” he said though his voice was sympathetic, and she wasn’t completely sure he believed her. “I… I don’t deserve to win the scholarship,” she told him under her breath. “I think you guys mixed up the papers or something for the essay.” He turned and looked over at her. “What would make you say something like that?” he asked her. “I just… I know I didn’t write better than anyone else that would be applying. I don’t even know why I tried to write an essay at all. I’m such a loser and never do anything right.” Tears once again came pouring towards the fronts of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. “Who told you that?” he asked her. “It’s true,” she said. “Just ask me to spell anything you want. Ask me to write something. Tell me to do a math problem, or even….” She turned her head away too embarrassed to say anymore. “Breanna, we pulled the right paper. There is nothing wrong with your writing,” he told her. “You have a lot of typical mistakes that a lot of young people make who have not yet gone to college, but there is nothing to indicate that you write any worse than anyone else.” She just looked down at her lap, hearing the words that she had heard all her life since she was ten years old…. “You are such a loser! You are lucky your aunt and uncle put up with such a troublesome girl as you. You can’t do anything right! Do you still wet the bed? I bet you do. You are such a loser!” The girl shook in her seat. She had not wet the bed in a couple of years, and her pants wetting in the day was mostly behind her, though if she did have to wait too long without being able to find somewhere private, she did leak into her panties once in a while. The man turned to glance at her again. “Sweetheart, you are the winner of our scholarship, and you did it because of your essay and because when I visited your home yesterday to interview you, you impressed me. You did this on your own, and you are NOT a loser.” Breanna kept her head looking down at her lap. “Didn’t my aunt tell you why I’m a loser?” she asked him knowing that her aunt had insisted on talking to him privately even without her hearing. “Your aunt didn’t use that kind of word about you, baby.” “But she told you why I shouldn’t qualify, didn’t she?” He chuckled. “You mean like you just now tried to tell me why you didn’t think you qualified? Yeah. I told her that according to our interview, your essay, and what I picked up of samples of your high school work, you did qualify, and she shouldn’t worry about you failing school.” Breanna shivered and keep her head down. Outside the car, she could hear not only the rain that was picking up speed with the rate it fell from the sky, but she heard some mocking squawking laughing as though from one of those birds that sounding like loud laughing. The gods were mocking her. “Can you pull over for a minute?” she asked the man once he had seemed to fall quiet from trying to convince her that she was not a waste of student space at his school. “Honey, I’m afraid there is nowhere to really stop for a little distance. Why do you want to stop?” “I gotta pee,” she whispered and blushed as she looked over at him. “I can’t pull over here,” he told her. “I promised both your aunt and the school I’d look out for you until you get to the school, and that means watching for your safety.” “But… there’s no one around. I’ll just go behind a bush at the side of the road. Please. I gotta go.” “No,” he said as he continued to drive. “Just try to hold on a little longer, and when I see a decent place that is safer, I’ll stop then.” Breanna put her hand on her stomach and nodded. She knew there was no point in continuing the conversation. He was in control of the car, and trying to take control from him would only make matters worse. A half an hour later, she felt the first leak slip through her inner body, and spray from her folds into her panties. She wet her panties some, just like she always did if she didn’t get somewhere private in time. She hoped that that was going to be the extent of it, and he would find a place soon, but she also knew that there just weren’t that many rest areas on these roads. She closed her eyes and put her hands between her bouncing legs, and rubbed her knees together, hoping she could get to a toilet before anymore came out. The poor nineteen year old didn’t really know how much time had passed, when she started to stare at the floor, tried to shut off her muscle, and tried to keep from anymore coming out, but quite sometime later, she felt her muscle weaken, and a short stream took advantage, and peed a bit into her panties which then quickly went under her bottom and wet her bottom and she couldn’t help but feel her hand down under her shorts to make sure, but the car seat was barely damp. “Please, Mr. Oswald. I’m going to wet my pants,” she said hoping he didn’t smell her or realize she had already leaked twice now. He reached over and patted her arm. “If you wet, sweetie, you wet. There’s not much we can do about it until we find a safe place for you to go.” Blushing, she nodded and felt herself pee some more into her panties, now knowing the seat was getting wet under her. Her legs picked up in speed as her leg bounced up and down as though a jackhammer was trying to break a hole in the car floor. “Tell me the truth, honey. Are you already wet? Did you already go some in your panties, baby?” She looked over at him. She was scared that he had caught her, scared he would yell at her, but even more scared not to tell him the truth now that he probably caught her. “You always secretly pee your pants and go around dirty!” she heard a voice in the back of her mind. “No wonder everyone in town thinks you are a dirty girl! They must think we are the worst guardians ever, and you need to be spanked to learn not to do that!” That was the voice of her uncle, who would then take her thirteen and even fourteen year old self back to the back room, pull her pants and panties down, and then whip her butt until it was red and raw. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered up at him. “I can’t hold it.” “I know,” he put another caring hand on her shoulder. “I’m not mad. I just want to know whether to stop or not.” “What do you mean?” “If your shorts are wet, and showing that you are wet, you’re going to be a lot more embarrassed to have everyone see you in wet shorts, that we can’t do anything about until we get where we can buy you some clean clothes, than you are if you just wet all the way in front me, honey.” She looked up at him. Was he inviting her to just finish in her pants? “Open your legs, let’s see if your shorts are wet, baby.” She was so scared and nervous that her leg continued trying to jackhammer a hole into the floor, but she, shaking, parted her knees and as she did, more pee started to escape into the seat, and a small puddle was revealed in it. “Yeah, you’re pretty wet, little girl. Just finish in your pants, honey. It’ll be less embarrassing for you than getting out and running to the toilet with those soaked things on, and everyone staring at you as go.” Breanna bit her lower lip. Her uncle had certainly never told her to just wet herself. Even if he did see a damp spot under her, he would warn her it better not get any bigger unless she wanted to be spanked twice as much when they stopped. “It’s okay, I promise,” the man next to her told her with a smile. “It’s not your fault, and I don’t want you to walk shamefully in front of a bunch of people showing them you wet yourself like a little girl until you have to, honey. And we both know it’s not your fault.” “It’s not?” she asked confused. How was it not her fault? It was her body that peed and was still leaking under her despite him telling her she can just wet. “No baby. You told me at least twice you had to go, but I’m not pulling over where I’m not sure it’s safe, and a little girl can only hold it for so long.” “But I’m an adult,” she whimpered. “So? Do you think an adult can hold it forever? If I have to go, I’ll stop on the side of the road, but I don’t have to try to go behind the bushes because I’m a man. All I have to do, is turn my back to you and the road, and no one can see me pee, but you’d have had to pull your pants down and everyone would see you naked unless you chanced going beyond the road-bush line, where it could be a sudden cliff, and you falling to your death.” She frowned. What he said made sense. Boys sure had it easy. She continued to feel her panties getting more and more warm and wet every few minutes because it was just too hard now, to hold it. Eventually, the flood broke, she saw a lake rise up around her front even wetting the top of her shorts, some of it rolling over her left leg and back around to her bottom from over top before she could stop peeing. The lake between her legs seemed to take a few moments before it went back down under her wetting all over her butt and then pouring down into the floor. “I wet,” she whispered up at him. “You did,” he agreed whispering back to her. “And it’s okay.” They continued driving, and now that she was already wet, when he saw a rest area, he just drove past it not thinking she’d want to stop like this, she supposed. “How come you're not yelling at me or threatening to turn the car around or spank me or something?” the girl looked up at Mr. Oswald, her face serious and her eyes narrowed at him as though she couldn’t understand his actions. “Well, for one, you told me you had to use the bathroom, sweetheart. You told me not once, but at least three times before you finally just started really going. For two, it is not my place to spank you for wetting your pants whether you are nineteen years old or a child, and for three, I would never punish someone for causing themselves shame. You obviously didn’t do it on purpose, and whether you pee your pants or not has nothing to do with you getting the scholarship, honey.” She felt her jaw drop at his explanations. Even at nineteen years old, she was sure that if her uncle or aunt caught her wetting her pants, they would most certainly be punishing her, and likely even spanking her like the little kid she just behaved like. “Honey,” he looked over at her. “It’s not a punishment, but until your shorts dry out enough, I’m not going to stop anywhere for you to go in for anything. If I stop to get food, I’ll ask you what you want and bring it to you. If I get gas, I might use the bathroom, but if your shorts are wet, and you gotta go, just go in your shorts, honey.” She opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it, and then tried to open it to ask him why he wanted that, but then closed it again. She understood that he thought he was protecting her, but to wet her pants on purpose because her shorts were wet from her accident? Was that really reasonable? But then, she was sure people would stare at an adult that just wet her pants, wouldn’t they? “I know,” he seemed to read her mind. “It’s not going to be easy to just sit there and wet your pants if we are near a toilet, but before we decide anything, we’ll check how wet your shorts are. If they could pass off as dry, I’ll let you go, but if they are wet, I don’t want you embarrassing yourself any more than you are by wetting in front of me, okay?” She nodded with tears in her eyes. “It’s not a punishment, but just to make sure you don’t have to deal with more than you already have to, sweetheart. I know you must be mortified at having wet yourself like a little girl.” Breanna nodded. He patted her arm a third time and even rubbed his hand up and down it. “It’s honestly okay that you didn’t make it, sweetheart. We were going to have to buy you some other clothes before we crossed the border to the United States anyway. Our school would have really frowned on both of us if I brought you there with your panties showing out of both the tops of your shorts, and through the left ripped leg. And that shirt is so stained, that the school would wonder if I was taking care of the people I brought to the school at all if we arrived with you wearing that.” Breanna blushed. “It’s not your fault. I know what your Aunt and Uncle’s situation is, so of course you didn’t have anything decent in your drawers, which is why we left all your other clothes at home. You and I will get you some stuff to wear when we get to Guatemala.” Of course, Guatemala City was the capitol named for the country. They drove along for quite some time, and when she did have to pee again, he demanded she move over on her hip, and let him see under her, the back of her shorts and the seat, and then he let her sit again. “Just wet your pants,” he told her. “You’re too wet to stop somewhere without anyone seeing, so you’re not getting out of the car until we get to Guatemala City.” She frowned. “For real?” “For real, sweetheart. Feel your hand on your shorts if you don’t believe me that you are too wet to get out.” She knew she was wet. She could feel it on her bottom without having to check with her hand. “But if I just wet on purpose, like… like a baby….” “Not a baby,” he whispered over at her. “Like an eleven year old that has already had one accident, and doesn’t have anywhere to go again. Think of it like what a child would do, if she was trapped and already wet, honey. Because honestly, you are not going to want to go into a store in an adult mindset the way you are anyway, are you?” Breanna looked at him knitting her eyebrows and her mouth forming a small pouty smile. “What do you mean?” “Well, you are going to end up going into the clothing store with me in those wet clothes, and even if they dry even a little, people are going to notice that you’ve peed, right?” Tears threatened her eyes again. She nodded. “You are short enough with an innocent looking enough of a face, you could pull off looking a lot younger. Wetting as a child is pretty embarrassing, but which would embarrass you more, people thinking a dirty adult woman peed her pants while we are getting your clothes, or a little kid that couldn’t hold it long enough while traveling, had had an accident in the car?” She looked down at her wet shorts. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was less embarrassing if people thought she was a little kid that wet herself. But how old did he think she could pull off looking. If he was thinking fifteen years old, that’s really not that much less of an adult than a nineteen year old. “Just pretend to be my little eleven year old daughter. I’ll explain that we were on the road from Coban, and that you just couldn’t hold it all the way here, and you were scared to pee in public with people passing on the road, so you tried to hold it, but couldn’t.” The girl frowned and looked up at him. “But you were the one that was scared of me going….” “Alright, I’ll them everyone I didn’t want you running off of the road to go, and so I wouldn’t pull over for you because you couldn’t promise to pee in front of your daddy. Most eleven year olds wouldn’t want to pee in front of their daddies, especially with other cars passing by, too, right?” She nodded with a sigh. “So, when we are shopping, you’ll pretend I’m eleven, and I had an accident in my pants because the rest areas were too far apart?” “That’s the plan, honey.” She nodded. “So, you spank me when we get to the store, and after I change my pants?” “No. I’m not spanking you, another or real child, or even my own for an accident in your pants, honey. An accident means you didn’t mean to do it, so there is no reason to punish you for something you just couldn’t control. You did what you could. You asked me to pull over, and I didn’t want you to just pull your pants down in the car on purpose… so you were a good girl.” She looked up at him again, really trying to understand why he kept saying she was a good girl and that wetting her pants was really okay. They got just into the capitol city when her bladder gave out, because she really couldn’t get comfortable with going on purpose even if he did tell her to, and she wet herself literally, moments before they pulled into the parking lot for a huge department store. “Here we are,” he told her. “Now, did you do as I told you and wet your pants completely yet?” She looked up at him with a frown. “Honey, I don’t want you peeing on the floor in the store on purpose, and we can’t take you to the bathroom to change you until we get you some clean clothes, so I want you to be finished wetting before we go in.” She signed and looked down at her lap. “I think I finished….” “Well, make sure. Push and see if anything comes out, honey.” She did, and when she pushed, she surprised herself as she started wetting, and the water literally flooded the seat again and all over her pants. Come to think of it, she really had not experienced the real flood the second time. She just thought she had just peed so slowly that it just didn’t come out as a flood this time, but there it was, when made to push to see if she could wet, the flood came, and it kept coming and coming and coming. She really had to pee, and before she was done, her seat was a soggy mess and the floor around her was soggy. She was surprised it didn’t make a lake on the floor. “Finished?” he asked her when it looked like the waters had stopped. She tried to push again to make sure. He wanted her to wet, and she didn’t want to make him mad at her, more mad, than he should be that she even already wet herself, twice, in his car. There was nothing left. She had completely wet, so she nodded. “Good girl,” he leaned over and hugged her a moment with one arm, and then he got out, and she sat there, waiting for him to come to her side of the car, hesitating to get out in the sopping wet shorts she was wearing. “Come on, baby,” he opened her door and helped her out getting her to her feet. “Embarrassed?” She looked down at her feet, her shorts just sopping wet. She nodded. “I know, honey.” Before she could object, and surprised at his strength, he lifted her up and started to carry her, just as if she really was a child. “Um…,” she wanted to object, but drawing too much attention, and people would surely look at her wet butt and know that she was probably in trouble for wetting, and if he was right, that she looked like a child, they would probably assume she was just being a brat because he was trying to get her into the store to get her some clean clothes, so she stopped herself from making a scene. “Trust me, baby. You’ll thank me for carrying you like a child and taking care of you. No one needs to know you are any older than eleven years old.” She nodded and sighed. Maybe he was right. When they got into the store, he put her down next to the shopping carts, and had her get one to start pushing. “Having a shopping cart in front of you will stop people seeing your wet shorts from the front, and ‘daddy’ will walk behind you also with my hands on it, so not so many people will get to see your wet butt, either, okay?” She nodded. Tears slid down her face as she let him push the cart with her, feeling no older than seven years old like this, maybe even younger. They pushed the cart, not towards the adult women’s section, but towards the preteen girls’ section. Breanna looked up at the towering man and coughed lightly. “What is it?” he asked her. “We… we’re going to the children’s area,” she thought she was alerting him. “I know, honey. You’ve wet your pants, and we need to get you some clothes, and if anyone sees you wet, they’ll definitely know we are getting a child some clothes by coming this way.” She blushed. “So… um… I have to wear children’s clothes?” “Do you want to go to the adult section and admit to everyone that a nineteen year old adult peed herself not once, but even did it a second time because she was asked to?” Her face got really hot with embarrassment and she shook her head. “Of course you don’t. So, it’s either kids’ clothes and I explain a little girl couldn’t hold it from Coban or it’s women’s clothes and everyone will assume a young adult just peed herself in the car for little to no reason.” She sniffled and but went along with what he was doing, and he took her to the little preteen panty area. Preteen panties, well, that should just be plain or pastel panties that were more or less, mature looking? But no… he took her to the colorful panty area with some pictures of cartoon characters on the butts and on the fronts, even. “Choose come cute panties, honey, like a child. Please.” She was scared to argue with him. At least he wasn’t really scolding her or telling the whole store she had peed her pants. He really was acting like a daddy that was walking behind his wet little girl, trying to keep her accident as little noticed as possible. Sighing, she eventually stood in front of the underwear rack looking at princess panties. She looked up at him. “Are these kind of okay?” she asked as she pointed at the panties that were colored yellow, purple, light blue, pink, and so on with Disney princesses on the butts on some and on the fronts of others. “Yes, honey. Now, what size can you comfortably get in to? Don’t tell me you don’t know, because with your height, I’m betting you’ve had to buy preteen panties before for one reason or another.” She blushed. He was right. Her aunt had even threatened to buy her preteen panties, was it last year, when she had accidentally wet herself partway, when they had been at church, and she couldn’t get away in time, that her panties had gotten wet. She didn’t remember how or why her aunt had found out she was wet under her skirt, but they had gone right to a store, and her aunt had drug her to the preteen panties, just like this, actually, and made her point out a pair of the most childish panties she could fit into. Luckily, her aunt had gotten her all the way to the cashier, before as red faced as Breanna could be, the aunt said that they must have picked up the childish panties by accident, and let her off. But he was not letting her off. It was either fully act like a child right now, or everyone in the store would know what a dirty woman she was. She couldn’t bare anyone knowing she was nineteen, wearing wet peed in shorts, and walking right next to him as if her daddy was trying to help her get clean clothes. He had her pick out three different pairs of panties, one pair of purple with Jasmine on them, one lightblue with Ariel, and one pink with Else, the Snow Queen on it. Then, he walked her towards the jeans and skirts area for preteens. She looked up at him for direction. “Get a couple of plain pairs that just look normal,” he told her. “Even preteen girls sometimes wear just plain jeans. And then get a pair of cute shorts, one pair of cute jeans and one cute skirt.” She did so. But if she was getting five clean bottoms, why only three pair of panties? She wasn’t really sure what he was thinking, but she decided it better not think too much about it. Once she had bottoms that he was satisfied with, he took her to get some nice tops. Again, he allowed her two plain looking tops and then three tops had to be cute. After that, some undershirts, and then two pair of pajamas, some nicer shoes than she had on, and then they were back in a panty area, only, these panties looked even more juvenile than preteen panties. “Um….” “Honey, you need some panties for bed and our long car trip. These are the best kind if you are trying not to wet yourself, but leak in your panties.” “But….” He patted her back and whispered in her ear. “You are a good little girl,” he told her. “I know you aren’t wetting on purpose. But I don’t expect it to get any easier to find toilets on the road until we get past the US border, and honey, that’s still four days away.” She nodded. “And your aunt told me that you do wet the bed at night.” Her face went bright red when he said that. “I do not!” she rasped in a whisper. “My aunt was just trying….” “Your aunt showed me your bed mattress with all the stains from you wetting it.” She looked down. No wonder he thought she could wet herself so easily. Her aunt had betrayed the family secret, though she had not actually wet the bed in at least a year and a half, she wasn’t really sure how to convince him that it was just old stains that he saw. How was a nineteen year old young woman to convince someone that she just wet until she was around seventeen? What other seventeen year old wets the bed? “If you thought I wet the bed,” she finally gathered some strength to confront it while she looked over the more juvenile panties that definitely had a thicker feel as though they were made for little accidents. “How come you decided to still pick me for the scholarship?” “I already answered that question earlier, baby. Your scholarship has nothing to do with whether you can keep your pants dry at night or daytime, or anything like that. It is about your eagerness to better your position in life, and your essay was inspirational.” “But my essay was really bad, wasn’t it? I am bad at writing, always making the wrong word and spelling wrong, and it doesn’t make sense and stuff….” “Honey, your essay was really good,” he put a hand on her shoulder and sent a strong feeling through her when he did that he was telling her what he really believed. “You need to believe in yourself a little more, sweetheart.” She nodded. Of course, her aunt and uncle, and most of the people she had grown up for the last ten years or so would have been telling her the opposite. Her aunt knew just how immature and how much a loser she really was. He helped her pick out five pairs of basically potty training panties, though they were not quite so small and not quite so babyish as that. Once he had her clothes for her all ready to go, he made sure she was in position again, the car blocking the front of her shorts and him standing behind her to block the view from behind, and they walked towards the checkout lines. Well, it wasn’t completely hidden, and when they were in line, a girl, maybe around the age she was supposed to be, maybe a little younger, tugged at her mom and then pointed at Breanna. “Mommy, look. That poor girl wet her pants.” Her mother smiled at Breanna and waved, and then she hugged her own child and whispered to her. “It’s not nice to point out other’s little booboos. Her daddy will take care of her, honey.” The child nodded and said “Sorry.” Oswald heard everything and he decided it was time to play up what he had told Breanna he would do. “Well, what can an eleven year old do? We were driving all day, from Coban, and well, she’s eleven. You don’t expect her to go out on the side of the road where everyone can see, right?” The woman smiled. “And of course, I wouldn’t let her run off into the bushes because some of those places are just freefalls on the otherside of the bushline, so I told her to either squat on the road or get back in the car, and she got back in the car. I can’t blame her.” The woman nodded approvingly. “You’re a good dad to not be mad at her for that. My husband would have killed our daughter if she didn’t just pee on the road like you told her to do, but I think it was wrong.” “Didn’t you tell him that he shouldn’t force her to pee in front of people like that?” “Um…. I…. Well, my kids need to know that you don’t fight about discipline in front of them, so I told my daughter to listen to her dad even though I didn’t like it.” Oswald nodded. “Well, if anyone tells me I’m wrong for understanding my little girl’s need to be modest, they can just go… well, go somewhere they don’t like and live there. If my little girl wets her pants, that’s really just between me and my own little child, right?” The woman nodded. Then, she was at the counter and taking care of her things. Breanna had blushed when they first started talking, but as they got into it, and the man was calling her modest, which was a good thing, and that whether she wet or not was really no one’s business but her daddy’s and if he wanted to let her be modest, and anyone that didn’t like that, could just die…. She started to feel better about the idea that he had said she was only eleven years old, and the lady bought it. They eventually got to the front to pay for their stuff, and then he started to walk her over where the bathrooms were, but he stopped in front of the men’s room. “I’m going there,” she pointed at the women’s. “Honey, I don’t want you going in there by yourself….” As they were deciding, that same woman came by, and noticed their stand off. “Your little girl feeling too old to go in the men’s with her daddy, huh?” she asked him. “Yeah. But her mommy isn’t with us anymore, and I really feel nervous letting her go in there alone.” “Maybe I could go in with her?” “I appreciate it, but no. You’re still a stranger to me.” Breanna crossed her arms. “Then what am I going to do?” she asked him. “You don’t need to pee, do you?” “No. I already did that in the car, remember?” “Yes, baby. I know. Tell you what, let’s go unload what we have, and then come back into the store for a few more things….” “How’s that going to let me change my pants?” “You’ll see. Just trust daddy, okay?” he winked at her. “Fine, but I’m not going in a men’s bathroom.” “You don’t have to, sweetheart.” “And I’m not showing my butt to anyone outside.” “No, sweetheart. That’s why we need some more stuff in the store. I promise, you’ll have privacy to change, and won’t have to use the public toilets to change your pants.” She blushed but went with him to drop off their shopping, and then walked with him back into the store, the same as before, the cart and Oswald trying to block anyone from seeing her wet shorts again. Back in the store, Oswald picked up some cushions, a couple of soft matts, some short curtains and rods that seemed rather flexible, and eventually, they got back to the car, where he put a curtain in the back behind the backseat, one on each side window, and then, somehow, he got an adjustable rod to hold a curtain between the front seat and the backseat, so that even he couldn’t see her when she changed. “Alright now, we’ll put a changing mat on the backseat,” he told her. “Stand up in the back until you can get your shorts and panties down, so you don’t get your matt wet, and then when you put on clean clothes, they won’t get wet,” he told her. She looked up at him and nodded. Then she got in the car and he closed the back door, and even though the curtain divided the front from the back, he stayed outside the car while Breanna stripped off her wet things. She looked over the childish panties he had gotten her, but decided they were better than wet things, and put the Ariel panties on. Then she put on some plain jeans, and taking off her dingy shirt, she exchanged it for a pink shirt with a rainbow on it and a Unicorn head coming from under the rainbow. Have a Sparkling Day the shirt read under the picture. Once she was changed, she opened the car door to let him know she was done. He had her twirl for him and then smiled. “The front seat is all wet, where you were sitting, so you should sit in the back until it dries,” he told her. “Anyway, we are going to get something to eat for dinner and then stay the night here.” She nodded. She definitely didn’t want to sit in a pee soaked seat while wearing clean new jeans even if the panties under them were very juvenile. It's been a while since I wrote, and this is the first time to try to write something, well, like this, so I hope it worked. anyway, try to enjoy it, and I know there is a lot of 'you have to suspend your belief' moments in this one for the story to work. I'm sure a lot of girls would put up much more of a fuss and the whole idea is likely just a fantasy. No way of being real... but anyway....

Tricked by my family I decided to enter this story in @kasarberang competition. Feel free to post feedback and suggestions, and I welcome constructive feedback. Introduction: I guess things haven’t been normal for a long time. Bedwetting and bladder issues runs in our family. Mom tried to avoid the topic, but aunt Cassie didn’t deny it either. My older sister Katie, who is now sixteen became older and more mature, she helped babysit me. Mom was irritated that I didn’t want to wear diapers, and often fussed about it. My sister Katie made it seemed like she didn’t like changing my diaper, but mom wanted her to help babysit me anyway. Sometimes mom wanted me back in diapers “Because” for reasons I didn’t quite understand. Mom kept telling me it wasn’t a punishment. For the first time, mom went on a business trip, with my sister “in charge”, now she is 16 and trustworthy. My aunt was around to check on us and help out, but she worked as a nurse, for a medical clinic. Little did I know how things would change for me. Getting ready: Aunt Cassie brought over some food for while we were gone. My sister drinks a lot of Gatorade, and seems to always read the label on food and drink. She likes to stay active, and is glad she doesn’t wear pullups to school much. Mom asked if we had plans for the almost two weeks she will be away. My sister says she’ll be studying, but didn’t say which subject. Mom didn’t seem surprised. Cassie mentioned that I had a doctors appointment this week, for a “checkup”, which made me worry about what the doctor needed to check. I’ve been to doctors and hospitals enough, and things happen unexpectedly, and sometimes hurts and I cry like a baby. I wet my pullup a lot just thinking about it. Mom handed Katie a wallet of gift cards, for CVS, Grubhub, and a few other places. We had plenty of frozen food, but could also order food delivered. Cassie handed a folder with some papers, that mom put together for while she was away. “Mom, did you schedule our daily activities in advance?”, she asked. “I don’t want you two sitting around watching Netflix all day”, mom replied. Cassie also brought over a box of diapers and other supplies, supposedly for her neighbors, but I knew it was meant for me. I had started to cry, and Cassie picked me up, and tried to comfort me, as my sister walked with mom, bags in hand. “You sure are a little girl, aren’t you?” Cassie said quietly. She checked that my pullup was now soaked. A few minutes later, Cassie had me back in my room, removed my pullup, cleaned me and put a diaper on me. My sister came in, a little surprised I hadn’t thrown a tantrum. I really don’t like getting put in diapers during the day, or getting changed.