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  1. “Kat has a meeting at the Police Station” It was bound to happen. I have been playing this game with her for too long and of course someone would eventually notice and say something. I didn’t intend for it to happen this way, but here I am… In “custody” in an interview room. I’m sitting in a chair across from two women. To the left there is a woman in her mid 40’s I’d say, long sleeve white uniform shirt with blue sergeants stripes. I’m guessing about 5’6”with a little extra weight on her. She’s a brunette with her hair put up in what I can assume she’s used as a hairstyle her whole career and a healthy amount of grays. She’s pretty, but she doesn’t look happy about being called into this conversation, if you can call it that. To her right, and the reason she’s even in here sits a woman in plain clothes. She’s an investigator that looks a little young to be in that role. Tall, blonde, with a tan pant suit on. She has her coat unbuttoned so you can see her badge on her belt below her maroon button up. I’d say she’s about 5’8”, I noticed when she came in the room that her uniform pants are pretty snug in that “I have a nice ass but don’t you dare check it out” kind of way. She’s wearing flats with about a 1” heel on them. Her shirt is a maroon form fitting style that accentuates her 34C bust. She’s talking about something. I don’t know I’m not really paying attention, I’m looking at both of these women and thinking about who might be watching from behind the one way mirror to my right. How many “viewers” do we have back there? Two? Three? Does it matter? “Are you listening to me?” The investigator raised her voice.. hmm. Wonder what she just said. Obviously I wasn’t listening. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I’ll play along for a moment… “I said I want to know why she is dressed like that and why she keeps referring to you are her “mommy.” Oh yeah! Yeah that’s probably what got us here.. I didn’t think about how bringing her back to the city she lives in could cause me *this* uh.. inconvenience. “Well why don’t you ask her?” “I did.” The young woman says sitting back in her chair. Her jacket slides over exposing the curve of her breasts in the form fitting shirt. “What did she say?” “She said she “wuvs” her outfit.” “So there’s your answer. I don’t typically “love” any outfit I wear so if I said I did, that would be good enough reason to me to leave it at that. Why would she be different?” The woman looks shocked then looks at the Sergeant who looks admittedly just as surprised.. and now we’re back at me. “Be… because she’s.. dressed up…” she’s really cute when she’s flustered.. “like a fox?” “Good observation?” I respond. “If she said she loves to wear that then who am I to judge?” “Because she’s a grown woman! My roommate, and she’d never… “ “Careful with the never talk.” I warn “Don’t you know you should never say never?” “Well… “ I love to watch this part.. the wheels turning in their head as they try to decide if their friend would *really* be into something without them knowing. I’ve seen this look hundreds of times. *Is my mom really a lesbian?* *Does my art teacher really like bdsm?* honestly it never gets old… right now she’s trying to decide if her roommate and best friend is really into pet play …. “I just… I wouldn’t think she would be..” “Hmm that doesn’t sound like much of a certainty to me.” I look at the sergeant; she looks embarrassed and annoyed. Interesting combination. “Are we done here?” I ask her. “Kelly maybe there is nothing to see here and she just likes… uh…. playing dress up.” Ok, I guess I owe a little backstory here.. I’m Katherine… well more specifically I’m Ekaterina. My name has changed a little over the centuries. I won’t bore you with all the details of my life so let’s just say I have the power to change things with my will. I’m also immortal (apparently).. Now you might think it’s really cool to get to live forever, but let me tell you after you watch your family, friends, and yes.. even your husband die while you are stuck living day after day looking like you are still 25 has its setbacks too. To be honest the reason I assume I can’t die is because trust me I tried. It wasn’t my finest moment but then again you don’t know what it’s like to bury your husband, your two sons and then finally your “baby” daughter. I’m not sure why, but seeing my sweet Tatiana die at the ripe age of 98 leaving no family just triggered me as they say theses days. Anyway.. long story short I can’t die from drowning, poison, cutting my wrists.. nothing. I just heal up and I’m back in minutes. Oh! And it looks like I can have children but they won’t have children so I never have a long term family. So here I am… alone. Forever… Back to this little story, the funny thing about being alone forever is that you really get bored. Bored is how I found myself about a month ago when I saw Bridgette. She was standing in a park on her phone. She was FaceTiming a man who I can only assume is her poor unsuspecting boyfriend that she’s cheating on at every turn. She was cutesy, she was pouty, she was waiting for him to get off the phone before she took off to another night in the clubs. The last thing she said was how “foxy” she was and that gave me an idea. Fast forward to today and Bridgette is a full blown “fox girl” she dresses in skimpy clothes and wears her little fox ears, collar, and yup, that’s a foxy tail you see sticking out from under her mini pleated skirt. And another yup, that tail doesn’t “clip” to anything, it’s a butt plug tail. She loves it. Just ask her. She’s gonna tell you how happy she is being a little fox in her hyper little voice. Maybe that’s what Kelly doesn’t like, or maybe she is genuinely concerned for her friend. But if she knew what I knew, she wouldn’t give a shit. If Kelly wanted to know why she keeps ending up single… it’s Bridgette, she does her best to make Kelly look like a bitch in the hopes of getting her paws (lol) into any man Kelly brings home. She isn’t her friend, but instead of moving on, she’s thinking she’s helping her “bestie” by intervening in my little “Karma” project. The fun part about having my abilities is that while I was thinking Kelly would be happy to know her “friend” is getting a little taste of karma, I’m disappointed to know now that Kelly is well… her partner in crime so to speak. Instead of being the innocent bystander (and sometimes victim) Kelly here is a regular pea in the pod with Bridgette. They’ve made it a point to use any means available to be “those” women. The kind that prey on men and women to get whatever they want. Well… let’s put a few more of my talents in place to get things a little “righter” in this world. “Beth, do you ever wonder why you’re single?” I ask the sergeant. “Uh what? How do you know I’m single?” “You are right?” Beth looks nervous.. “Well yes, but that’s beside the point.” “No actually it IS the point. Didn’t you have a boyfriend just a little while ago?” “I’m.. look. Why would I need to discuss my romantic life with you?” “Because I’m here. I mean really; I didn’t ask to be here, she made me come here. If I have to be here why can’t I talk about what *I* want to to talk about for a while?” Beth looks at Kelly nervously and then shrugs “Yes, I did but about 6 months ago he basically ghosted me.” “Hmm… I wonder what happened.” I look at Kelly “any thoughts?” “Why would I know why she is alone?” Kelly looks aggressively at me. Beth doesn’t seem to like the “alone” comment. “I don’t know, I just thought since you knew her ex that maybe you’d have some insights.” “You know Jim?” “Uh.. sorta, I mean not really. We just know some of the same people.” “Ah come now, don’t act like that. Tell her how you know Jim.” Kelly scowls at me.. “Why do you look like a child with their hand stuck in the cookie jar?” I ask. “Actually that gives me an idea.” Kelly tries to cover her surprise but instead of dismissing my comments she lashes out telling me that I’m here because of Bridgette not Beth’s failed romance and I need to “shut up”. “Dave, are you single?” I ask the one way mirror. Both women look surprised (so does Dave from behind the glass) Dave wasn’t alone in there but I decided that the less witnesses the better. Ever tried dealing with 20 people that all saw what you did and then you have to track them all down to get them to accept what you *want* them to have seen? It’s a pain in the ass. So the less people the better. “Dave?” I ask again. “Yes.” He says over the intercom. “Dave I want you to turn off the cameras. I need to do a little work and the last thing I need is a video of what I’m going to do.” I look at the camera behind me and see the red light is still on letting the officers see that recording is still occurring during an interview. “Dave! I promise it will be worth your time if you do this favor for me.” Dave doesn’t understand why, but he reaches over and turns off the cameras. “Thanks Dave! So let’s see what you look like.” I point at the mirror and suddenly it’s just a window. There’s Dave standing up in the A/V room. He’s about the same age as Beth, overweight, hair is thinning. He looks like a nerd that spends most of his days indoors. “Hey you know what Beth? I think you and Dave would make a cute couple! Stand up and let’s take a look.” Beth scoffs looking at Dave but she stands. Giving her a look over I see a middle aged woman, some gray hairs, a little bit of a muffin top and her thighs are slightly chunky and she has an “office ass”.. a couple more years and she’s going to have some serious weight issues… “I tell you what, why don’t you two go grab a coffee while me and Kelly here have a chat.” Beth and Dave stand up and both step out of the interview area and head down the hall. “Kelly, I think you already know why Beth is single. And I really think you should’ve come clean about that.” “Well I think you need to mind your damn business bitch.” “Such language!” I say feigning shock. “Well the cameras are off so now I’ll say and do whatever I want.” She says turning around to her leather purse hanging on the back of her chair and takes out her lipstick to reapply. “You have no idea how true that is.” I say grinning…
  2. (Reuploading old stories as a lot went missing. This one is actually already complete so I will have the second part up soon. Its just a lot to post at once) Carissa glanced awkwardly around at the group of young women. Though they were in a group, each seemed to be standing alone, avoiding eye contact with the others and blushing if noticed.The source of their discomfort was fairly clear. They had each just been changed into a new set of clothes, all in the same room with the others around. While being dressed in front of strangers was bad in its own way, it was really the clothes themselves that caused embarrassment. Though there were some variations from girl to girl, they all seemed to be made along the same theme. Specifically, they were all designed for someone far younger than anyone in the group.Each girl wore a dress in light pink and white. Some of the dresses resembled school girl uniforms, with plaid skirts and neck ties, while others seemed like something a toddler might be put into before Sunday School, complete with matching bonnets. Many of them were decorated with flowers or little animals and cartoon characters. Despite their appearance, they were sized correctly for the people who wore them, even if the skirts were short. Carissa’s was of the Sunday School variety, complete with shoulder straps resembling a set of overalls, a picture of Minnie Mouse on the chest and, more embarrassingly, another just over her bum. Here light brown hair was tied into pigtails that ran down to her shoulders. While some of the shorter girls and those with rounder faces matched their clothing perfectly, Carissa was of average height and a narrow build, making the outfit appear even more out of place.Even worse than the dresses was what the girls wore underneath. Like the dresses, the underwear the girls were given was sized properly but clearly designed for someone much younger. The luckiest ones got off with thick white cotton briefs, more in line with training pants then actual underwear, and carried similar designs to the ones on the dresses. Carissa’s had pink frills around the legs, a lacy bow at the top, and pictures of Disney princesses, and a thickness and feel that made her question if they were intended as briefs or as pull ups. She considered herself one of the lucky ones. The crinkle of plastic coming from some of the more embarrassed looking girls left little doubt over whether or not they were in pull ups.These clothes, they were told, were the uniforms of the Chelsey Reformatory School. It was a place for young women who, in the words of its official statement “lacked the discipline and maturity to be adults,” which Carissa supposed explained the uniforms. Most of the girls were failed college students and repeat petty criminals who had taken this as an alternative to jail. Carissa herself had failed out of college and lost her job in the same year, then vandalize both buildings with eggs in an act of revenge. Her parents, employer, and the school all agreed this was a fair alternative to paying for the damage.A door opened, attracting the girls’ attention. In strode a tall woman with short cut dark brown hair and a stern looking face. Everything about her seemed designed to intimidate. She wore an all-black suit with gloves, and carried a stick she held like a riding crop. She marched rather then walked and constantly glared around her. Behind her was a group of woman, some dressed similarly to her, others in nurse outfits.“Hello to all of you, and welcome to Chelsey’s Reformatory School,” the woman began in a high but hard voice. “I am the headmistress, whom you can call Miss Victoria.”“You are all here for the same reason. You have proven that you do not have what it takes to be treated as adults. Whether due to an issue with your upbringing or your own failing, you never grew up and still behave as children. Therefore, as I’m sure you can already tell from your clothes, we will treat you as such. Our goal is to raise you as children a second time with proper discipline. If you behave, you may enjoy yourself and will be treated warmly. If you don’t, you will find yourself on the wrong end of my riding crop. In the end, the result should be the same. You will leave here when we consider you ready to take on the responsibilities of a grown, mature woman. Now, follow me to your chambers.”Carissa and the other inductees were surprised by the bluntness of her command, but followed the woman through the hallway, mulling over her words. They were all frightened by the speech, especially of the comment about the crop. At the same time, they wondered how it was exactly they were to be treated as children.They approached a door with the words "responsibility, humility, discipline" written over them. The headmistress opened the doors and lead them on. Carissa gasped openly when she saw the rooms they were brought too. This was nothing like she had thought it would be. Where she expected Spartan cots and plain white walls, she found bunks with thick mattresses and soft blankets. Where she had expected something akin to a jail cell, she found something anyone would be happy to have as a bedroom. The girls were left for a minute to explore their new home. It wasn’t only not a jail cell, it was borderline luxurious.The main chamber was a large room filled with couched, a large TV screen, and games. A line of doors lead to bedrooms, each of which had a bunk bed made for two people. Another door led to the bathroom, which came complete with individual showers. A little further down the hall was a dining room with several long tables.However, there was something odd about each of them. Like the clothes, the rooms seemed designed for people much younger than their occupants. The walls of the main room were pink, and the bedrooms were in a variety of bright pastel colors. Each room had a large picture painted onto the walls. The main room had unicorns running across a field with a Disney-esq fairy tale castle, and a rainbow over the entire design. The rooms continued this theme with various Disney princesses painted on the walls. The beds, though thick and comfortable, had short rails along the side and plastic covered mattresses. Little details in the rooms continued this theme, with clocks made to look like cats and night lights beside each bed. Some of the games, movies, and toys were the sort of thing the girls expected- video games, romance and action films, monopoly,- while others were things most hadn’t used in years –candy land, cartoons, various doll houses. Stranger still were a few other objects the girls eyed with curiosity, which they began to notice more and more after the initial excitement over seeing their rooms. One of the bedrooms contained a pair of cribs rather than bunk beds. Some of the toys were even more infantile then the doll houses, including rattles and suckling toys. A mesh playpen say in the common room, and included a strange post rising from its center. Several large high chairs stood beside the tables in the dining room. Finally, there was a plastic training potty in the bathroom. Beside it was a large padded table with multiple shelves. Some of the inductees stood around it wondering what it was until one gasped and whispered “it’s a changing table!” They quickly moved away from it, and none were brave enough to check what was inside the shelves.At the call of the headmistress the women gathered inside the main room. Most looked around nervously, trying to ignore the few out of place objects that suggested a different kind of occupant.Miss Victoria spoke. “Well, I’m sure you’ve all had a chance to see the rooms, and I hope you like them. As you can see, this isn’t a prison, it is a reformatory school. You aren’t here just to be punished, but to be reformed. We do not believe forcing you to be constantly uncomfortable will achieve this, so we have given you a nice place to live while you stay here. However, the décor was chosen to remind you that you will not be seen as full adults until you get through our training program. Now, as a welcoming gift, we have brought you nice little girls some candies. We hope you enjoy them.”The girls were all a bit taken aback by the strange offer, and the sudden way in which it was made. However, a bowl of individually wrapped candies was passed around, and each girl took one. The bowl came last to Carissa, who was left with a blue one. It was a hard candy, very sweet, and tasted somewhat like blueberry.The inductees each suckled on one of the candies while the headmistress and the other woman behind her all watched attentively. Finally, when the girls all appeared to be finished, the headmistress spoke again.“Did you all enjoy those candies little girls?” the ‘little girls’ nodded happily, though some blushed at continuously being referred to as such. “Every week you will each be given the same thing, though the different candies will be distributed randomly. This is not just for the taste. Three of those candies are special candies, and will play an important role in your training. Don’t worry too much about what it is that makes them special, it will become clear soon.” The inductees murmured and glanced nervously at one another.A gasp was heard coming from the center of the group, followed by a panicked squeal. Several of the inductees shouted and began moving away from one of the girls. “Well, it looks like we have our first winner!” the headmistress said.Carissa pushed her way into the group to see what had caused the commotion. All the inductees stood gaping in a circle around a tall, blond haired girl. Her hair was tied in pigtails similar to Carissa’s, and she wore a school girl style dress. Her face conveyed a mix of shock and struggle, and she stared down toward her waist where her hands were placed tightly against herself and her knees were buckled. It took Carissa a second to realize what was going on. The girl was wetting herself! He was trying to stop it, but seemed powerless to do so. The headmistress approached her. “What’s your name little girl?”The girl chocked back a sob. “Sarah,” she said.“Well, little Sarah, how does it feel to be the first winner?” “Not good! Please! What happened to me!?”“Aww, that’s too bad. All it did was make you incontinent for a little while. Don’t worry though, the other candies are worse, and you will each have your chance to try them all.” A few of the girls paled at that statement. “Now, let’s inspect the damage, shall we?” Sarah cringed and looked away as Miss Victoria lifted her skirt with the riding crop, revealing wet Hello Kitty pull ups. “Tsk tsk tsk. Soaked right through! And look at the mess you made!” She indicated the wet spots on Sarah’s skirt and the puddle underneath her with the crop. “And to think, someone thought it was a good idea to let you walk around in pull ups. I guess they are better than briefs, but clearly they weren’t enough! Well, we won’t make that mistake again, will we?” Carissa stared despairingly at her, then, seeing she was expected to answer, whispered a nervous “no.”“Good, I thought not.” She looked at one of the nurses. “Nurse Vicky? Would you go get little Sarah some more appropriate underwear? Oh, and perhaps some new clothes while you are at it, these ones are soaked. We will also need someone to clean up little Sarah’s mess.”One of the nurses walked toward the bathroom as the headmistress waited. Sarah held her face in her hands and stared downward, as if trying not to be seen by anyone. The headmistress put an arm around her and cooed. “There there, it’s not your fault little one,” she said in a sweet voice. The nurse returned pushing a bucket and a mop and holding a bundle of clothes. She began to mop up the wet spot as Miss Victoria removed Sarah’s clothes and lead her away and sat her on one of the couches.“Now, why don’t you settle down and get dressed little one? Nurse Vicky was very kind to bring you some nice, cosy new underwear that will help you with your little problem. I’m sure you can’t wait to try them on!”“Wha… What do you mean?” Sarah asked between sobs.“Well what do you think I mean silly Sarah? What would you do with a little girl who forgot how to use the potty?” To the shock of the other girls, the headmistress held up a thick, white diaper.“NO! No, you can’t do that! It’s just because of a stupid candy! I’m not wearing that! It’s your fault anyway!”“Hush, hush little girl. Trying to blame others for your mistakes is exactly the kind of immature behaviour that got you into this. Any mature adult would see that this is the only solution and do what needed to be done. So, we are going to let you have the choice of putting this on yourself. If you decide to act like a baby and refuse, then we can have the nurses hold you down and diaper you like a baby.”Sarah stared glumly at the headmistress for a moment, then looked down at the diaper. With a shudder, she held out her hand and was handed the garment, along with baby powder. She looked at the headmistress and whispered “here?” The headmistress nodded.Sarah gingerly took the infantile garment and lay it on the couch. She sat on it, then spread baby powder over her private area. She lifted it against herself and struggled for a moment with the tapes, prompting the headmistress to reach over and tape it on snugly as Sarah blushed and looked away. When she was done, Sarah reached down to feel the plastic padding around her, and stared at it as if in shock.The headmistress kissed Sarah on the forehead and spoke comfortingly to her. “There there, that isn’t so bad, is it? How does it feel? Be honest.”“Its… warm. And soft. Kind of cozy.”“Ahh, so not too bad? You like it a bit?”Sarah blushed and murmured “yes.”“Well then, why don’t you put on the rest of your clothes?” she indicated toward the pile on the couch, which resembled the nurse’s outfits but was much shorter. Sarah pulled it over her head and tried to pull it down to cover her diaper, but the material wasn’t long enough, and she gave up in despair.Carissa watched the scene with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She supposed this explained the changing table in the bathroom. She wondered what the other two candies would do. Would they be related to this? Miss Victoria said they would be worse…Suddenly she noticed a strange feeling in her mouth. It had started earlier, but she was too distracted by the scene to pay it any mind. However, it had gotten worse and worse until she could no longer ignore it. It felt like her entire throat and mouth had gone numb. She fingered her lips curiously.Suddenly, just as strangely as it started, the feeling was gone. It surprised her so much that she said “that was weird” out loud. Or, at least, she tried to say it. What came out was a slurred “Da was weiwd”, spoken in a much higher voice then she was used to.She let out a high pitched “eeeeep!” and covered her mouth. “Whas wong wit my voice?” She asked the air. A few of the girls around her giggled.“Well it looks like someone found the second candy!” the headmistress said. “And what’s your name little one?”“Me? I Cawissa!” she blushed at the sound of her own name spoken in an infantile voice. “Wha happen!? Wha oo do!?”“Well little Carissa, you’re our second winner. Don’t you just sound adorable?” the headmistress asked patronisingly, prompting the other girls to laugh. Carissa blushed at the laughter, then became angry. “Wha oo doo, Mistwess Vicotwia? ! I no wan dis! Oo a big meanie!” She had tried to sound as tough as possible, but it seemed even the words she spoke were becoming more childish. All that came from her efforts were more awws and giggles from the audience, causing Carissa to blush and get even angrier.The headmistress grabbed Carissa by the collar and lifted her up with surprising ease. Carissa struggled and cried out “puh me down! I wan down!”, but was ignored.“What you see here,” said the headmistress “ is the effect of the second pill. Adorable, isn’t it?” A few of the girls smiled and nodded, and Carissa blushed, pouted, and folded her arms in protest. “The effects are twofold. The first, and most obvious, is the change in the voice. Our little Carissa will spend the next week or so talking like a child. Really makes her protests seem silly, doesn’t it? The second is emotional. Her emotions will change more easily, and she will get strong feelings of pride. As you just witnessed, this will often lead to childish tantrums and other naughty behaviour when she feels embarrassed. Her voice will make this more frequent. At the same time, it will make certain types of punishment more effective, as she will be embarrassed easily. As part of her training, she will need to be constantly punished if she acts up. Sarah, as the first winner, that will be your job, though any of you little girls can help out. Now, as a demonstration of what I mean…”Carissa suddenly found herself upside down over the woman’s lap. Before she knew what was happening, the headmistress had lifted her skirt, pulled down her underwear, and began to spank her bare bottom in front of the laughing audience. The indignity! Carissa squirmed and shouted childish protests as her bum became redder and redder. The pain was bad enough, but what was worse was the humiliation of being punished like a child in front of the others.Finally the headmistress set Carissa down on the ground. She pulled up her underwear and rubbed her sore bum, glaring at the snickering faces around her. “Yous all meanies” she said.“Now, that was just a light punishment for her earlier tantrum. She will need a spanking every morning upon waking up, every night before bed, and of course every time she is naughty. Further punishments will become clear in a moment. But first, it seems that we have a third winner.
  3. My boyfriend looked at me, pleading with his eyes and then with his voice. “Please baby, this is too much. I can’t keep living like this. I’m a man.” But I just smiled and turned off the Hataichi Magic Wand. “I guess you won’t be cumming today. Maybe tomorrow when you learn how to act like a real baby.” I dragged out the word baby as long as possible while adding as much sugary sweetness to my voice as possible. This wasn’t me being cruel, he had begged me for this after all. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was in bed with him, putting him in one of his white diapers with the little bunnies on it. The diaper was so thick, so crinkly. And in my mind it was so annoying. I suspected he loved them more than me. But I loved him so I said we could play. Diapers were odd but as long as it was foreplay we could make it work. I rubbed my hand on the white patterned diaper that trapped his cock and balls inside. He moaned as I continued rubbing. My ears perked up. That noise is something I hadn’t heard in a while. It was music to my ears. “Are you close to cumming baby?” I taunted softly. I leaned forward, my breasts rubbing against his chest as he closed his eyes to feel the sensation. “Yes…” he gasped slightly. His eyes were closed in contentment. I reached for the tapes to open his diaper up so he couldn finish like a man. I was going to ride him until he had an epic orgasm that would leave him gasping for air. I wanted his cum to explode inside of me. I wanted to ride him and feel him grow inside of me. But this time, he said quietly. “Don’t.” He didn’t want me to remove the diaper. He insisted I keep it on. He insisted it felt good when he splashed his cum into his thirsty diaper. Instead of cumming inside of me, he preferred this infantile act of making stickies. So I let him have his wish. I let him cum into his diaper. His entire body tensed up and then he relaxed. I smiled as he curled up next to me, his cheek resting on my chest as we basked in the post orgasm glow. “Baby like cumming in his diapers huh?” He nodded quietly. “Wanna cum like that more often?” He nodded. “What if that was the only way you could cum?” He didn’t respond. But something about it made me tingle inside. If he wanted to waste his precious cum like that, he’d learn to regret it. The next time we were together, I asked him again. But this time was different. I was edging him. It had been over an hour. I brought him close to climaxing over and over, only to pull him back down and let him cool off. I told him if this was too much for him, I could stop. He could go back into his diapers, the ones he loved so much. But he wasn’t going to cum. “Please let me cum baby, please?” And then I saw it. His eyes had grown dark and needy. Something had broken inside of him. He was mine. So I asked him again. “What if this was the only way you could cum?” He needed it at this point. More than water. “Yes!” He gasped as I dragged my fingers softly over the head of his penis again. “Just let me cum.” “Where do you want to cum?” I teased as I nibbled on the sensitive head of his penis, flicking my soft tongue back and forth. I was so greedy for the glistening pre-cum that was leaking from his cock. “In my diapers?” Poor boy looked like he was going to cry. I was pushing him to his limit. “And only in your diapers?” I asked. “Yes,” he was shaking now. “Only in my diapers from now on. Please babe. I only want to cum in my diapers from now on. Please.” I love it when he begs. I pulled the diaper between his legs, taking great care to try and touch his cock as little as possible. Poor guy was going to become a premmie if we weren’t careful. Barely whipping it out before jizzing just inches before my sweet, sweet pussy. But his fate was going to be much worse. I taped him up and then grabbed the magic wand and gave him a mind blowing orgasm. His body spasmed as he moaned louder than I had ever heard before. I heard the crinkles of the diaper as his feet kicked, flexing the leak guards. As he came the plastic on the diaper stretched to its limit. In the post cum glow, I stroked his hair and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Good boy.” I said. But he’d told me what he wanted. He had told me what he needed. He wanted this. He needed this. The next time we had sex he was pounding me from behind when I told him to get off me and rolled him on his back and put him in thick pink diapers. He complained, but I reminded him that he told me this is what he wanted. I told him to hump me from behind because he wanted to only cum in diapers from now on. He had said it. He had wanted it. I pushed my ass into his diapered crotch as he thrust over and over seeking relief. We had sex again the next day, and right when he was ready to cum I just stood up and tossed him a diaper. I told him he had to put it on after all if he was going to cum. I told him if he wanted he could touch me while he humped the mattress. Or if he wanted to cum like a girl, he could use the wand. He was shocked. I think he didn’t realize how long this was going to last. But in the post orgasm glow I patted the front of his now cum filled diaper and reminded him that he was my strong little man. And I spooned him from behind and coaxed him to sleep. One day I caught him masturbating in my bathroom. He was hiding from me trying to rub one out like the naughty boy he was. That night after binding him to the bed for what he thought was gonna be kinky sex, I put ice on his penis and shrank it down to a pathetic size. A week in chastity solved his naughty masturbation habit. It didn’t cross me again. I controlled his orgasms. I controlled when he was going to cum. He started to get cranky after two weeks of that. “Come on babe,” he started whining. “Can we have normal sex?” I just smiled and said that he’s the one who told me this is what he wanted. And I couldn’t possibly be a good girlfriend unless I gave him what he needed. Right? He threw a temper tantrum that night, so I didn’t let him cum. I just put him in his nighttime diaper and went to bed. I had invested in locking plastic pants. He wasn’t taking them off until I unlocked him anyway. Soon he figured it out. If he hoped for any relief, he’d be a good boy and cum in his diapers. Six months of this he started automatically getting the diapers out at night. My good little boy was trained at this point. He’d lay in the bed, wait for me to diaper him and then get permission to hump my leg or the pillows. I’d giggle watching him crinkle back and forth until he shuddered to his pathetic completion. His round bottom looked gorgeous in those diapers. So infantile, juxtaposed with his strong muscles and deep voice. He was my baby boy, seeking relief. But one day I told him, “We can have sex like adults do. No diapers tonight.” He grinned and I saw the Alpha come back into his eyes. That night he pulled me close and then flipped me over, his masculine shoulders, large hands fondling my breasts as he prepared to mount his prize. I looked at him dead in the eyes and told him I wanted him to grow inside of me. I wanted his cum inside of me. I wanted him to have me. From behind me I heard his breath quicken as he got ready to ravage me. But nothing happened. He was quiet. And I smiled. “What’s wrong?” I asked innocently. “Give me a sec,” he mumbled. But the seconds turned to minutes. And I just lay there waiting for him to take me like the man that he said he was. I heard him fumbling around. I heard him curse. But he didn’t know what I knew. He couldn’t get hard right now even if I offered him the world. He wasn’t going to get hard unless he felt the soft embrace of a diaper around his penis. He wasn’t going to cum unless he felt the crinkly plastic between his legs. He wasn’t going to cum like a man ever again. He’d cum like the little baby he was. “Do you need a diaper baby?” I asked him spinning around and seeing the shock in his eyes. He denied it. He just needed a moment. Nerves he claimed. Stressful day at work. He was tired. Sure baby, bring on the excuses. You’ll learn soon enough. But the days turned to weeks and I knew my boy hadn’t cummed yet. I heard him sobbing in the bathroom as he tried to masturbate. Unable to even get the tiniest of erections. Those days I stood outside the door listening to him and when he exited I’d be calmly sitting at the table with concern in my eyes asking him if he “needed help with something.” Finally one night, we were in bed when he pulled out the diaper. He asked me if he could wear it during sex tonight. “You don’t want to try sex like a man?” My deep brown eyes bore into his soul. I needed to hear it. “I just…” he looked everywhere but at me. “Baby,” I smiled. “Look at me.” “I just want the diapers.” “So you want the diapers?” “Yes.” “You want to cum in the diapers like a baby?” He was quiet. But nodded. “Baby, say it.” I pushed his chin up so he was looking directly at me. “I want to cum in my diapers like a baby.” So I had him lay on his back. I pulled out baby powder to his surprise and sprinkled his privates with it. Next, I opened up the thick diaper, had him lay on top of it as I raised the plastic between his legs. I took my time taping it up. I checked the fit, making sure I made it rustle loudly. I kept making his diaper crinkle. I felt his penis grow inside the plastic prison which caused me to smile. “Okay baby, you can hump the pillows now. Be a good boy and do it quickly. I have work in the morning.” I stroked his back, patted his diaper butt and gave him encouragement as he rocked back and forth. I reminded him how much of a good little boy he was. I took my hands and reached underneath him fondling the plastic above his member. He shuddered and collapsed into the bed, exhausted, tired and spent. But the moan he let out was worth it. I pulled him close so he was to little spoon and kissed the back of his neck. “Good baby” I said. Then I told him. I was leaving him. I didn’t want a baby who could only cum like a baby. I wanted a man. I needed a man, like he needed his crinkly baby diapers. He protested. He begged. But each time I just pointed to his diaper and told him that’s all the evidence I needed. Enjoy cuming like a baby from now on. Find someone who’ll want to change your diapers. He was trapped. And the beautiful thing, I couldn’t wait to turn the next man I met into my little pathetic diaper baby. Because that’s all men are anyway. Good little diaper boys, just waiting to come out. Good boy. *** Like what you see here? Check out my Patreon where there are more stories. For just $10 you can read short stories like this and even longer ones. You can also check out the newest series: “Mommy Time Plus”https://www.patreon.com/kyleshouse
  4. Alex struggled helplessly in his binds. Stuck in a diaper and dress, gagged with an oversized pacifier, and with a bright red ribbon wrapped around, he could do nothing but wait. He supposed that was what he was a Christmas present for someone. The only question was for whom. It was a question that had haunted him since the day he arrived at the training institute. Like everyone, he knew there was someone paying for him. Like most, he had no idea who they were, when he’d see them, or what they intended to use him for. There were several reasons someone could end up in the institute. A scant few were volunteers- people choosing the submissive lifestyle, often for a kink, or out sheer laziness, giving up freedom to be guaranteed food and shelter rather then work their entire lives and risk homelessness. This, in Alex’s opinion, was a poor trade and a worse excuse for a career. Others seemed to think they eventually be guaranteed a place their anyway, and so volunteered. The advantage there was that they could at least pick the manner of their submissiveness, and have some control over who their eventual master was. Had Alex known that would be necessary for him, he’d have taken that route. He shifted uncomfortably in his binds, his arms getting stiff, and his diaper beginning to chaff his spanked bottom. He definitely would have. Alex, for himself, was one of the many who had been chosen against their will. Some of them had obvious reasons for going. They had committed clear crimes, were put on trial, and plea-bargained out of jail or were sentenced directly. They stood out at first in the first days at the institute. Trying to look tough, with tattoos on their arms and glares on their faces, until they realized this just made them all the more ridiculous. Alex was in a final category- those who had no idea at all why he was brought. He had simply went to bed one night after drinking at a bar, blacked out, and woken up already locked and dressed in the institute, with his form of submissiveness and master chosen for him. Many had similar stories, or were dragged from public places kicking and screaming, or got into cabs that went in completely the wrong directions… There was a long list. They were usually given a explanation. Vague allegations of minor crimes, poor behavior, a likeliness of future crimes or failures, internet search histories, having failed some kind of government test- there were plenty. Alex had a mix of these, with the same accusations of brattiness and immaturity that most who ended up in diapers got. They may be true, he knew, but he tended to believe the rumor that the institute simply needed to sell certain number of submissive to operate and did what was necessary to keep going. The government turned a blind eye and the public kept silent less they be chosen- they were fulfilling a needed service, anyway. For Alex, it was hard to argue. They seemed to know everything about him, and his trove of 'secret' stories about similar kinks was brought up time and time again as a reason. Whether they knew about them when they grabbed him or coincidently found out after searching was beyond him. Alex moaned inwardly thinking of it. The struggled slightly, hearing the tissue paper and his diaper rustle, then stopped. He glanced at the paddle beside him. Tauntingly cute looking, but sharp and painful, he had been given a taste of it earlier and threatened with more if he woke anyone up. He was a Christmas present, and just like any other gift supposedly from Santa Clause, he would not be seen until morning. Waking them up would spoil the surprise, and he had been trained to obey. That training itself had been a nightmare. When he first woke up that day long ago, he had no idea what was happening. He had woken up slowly at first, feeling a slight headach, then bolted up when he noticed he was in a strange room surrounded by bars. “No” he had thought, “it can’t be…” IN reality it was obvious- he had long known about the training program, and that the diapered subs were one of options, but like most, he had never thought it would happen to him. When it did, he did everything in his power to deny it to himself. He had quickly glanced down at himself to see he was dressed in bright pink footed pyjamas and a bulky object he later realized was a diaper. He tried to scream out, only to find his mouth full of something he later realized was a pacifier. He tried to remove it, only to find his hands were wrapped in thick, fingerless mittens, leaving them useless. He looked around himself, and confirmed his suspicions. The bars he had once thought were for a cage were in fact part of a crib, and the room was a giant nursery, decorated cutely, with a changing table, high chair, and toys all clearly intended for him. A pit had begun to form in his stomach. A woman, not much older then Alex, came in beaming. He still remembered the first words she said. “Hello, how’s my little baby doing?” She spoke in a sweet, familiar voice, as if he truly was a baby girl and there was nothing strange at all with him being there. The rest of the day had followed suit. He was offered no explanation and given no chance to ask for one. He was carted helplessly from humiliation to humiliation, unable to get out of the arms, baby harnesses and strollers that held him, and unable to speak with the pacifier in his mouth, only leaving it for feedings. That day he wasn’t even treated as a sub, but simply as a baby. Spankings or other punishments weren’t necessary yet- he was too restrained and bewildered to fight, he was simply there to learn his place. He was fed, talked to in baby gibberish or simply ignored, and changed. THAT was a memory that had stuck with him, not because of the teasing or punishment, but because of the lack there of. “Do you smell something?” one has said calmly. “I think the baby has a stinky butt” the other replied with no sign of surprise. “Check him?” Alex was bent over, his onesie undone. “Yep,” then, in the high pitched joking voice used for infants, “has the baby made a stinky? Does she need to get her butt changed? YES SHE HAS! YES SHE DOES!” The lack of mocking and teasing had made it seem all the worse, as if it was something natural that should be expected. The truth was, as he would learn, it soon would be. As Alex was lain on the floor in a main hallway and changed as the pair in front of him talked on as if nothing was wrong, he had even begun to wonder if he really was a baby, and the last few decades of his life were some bizarre dream. It seemed a better option then being a submissive. The real training had started the next day.
  5. It was like something out of a Stephen King novel. A strange, twisted version of Misery.Except Misery was already twisted. Did this count as more or less twisted? A horror novel against... whatever this was?"This is still pretty twisted," Alex thought as he stared around what now made up his bedroom. He was locked in a high walled crib, which itself was surrounded by a playing mat, blocks, a high chair, and, he shuddered remembering, a changing table. To some degree, it was a scenario he was familiar with, one he had written about many times, and even played out a few. What made this different was that this was no longer a game. And, oddest of all, as if pushing the strangeness of the whole scenario home, he turned to the back wall. There, in swirling, glittering and star studded writing, was his name. Or, his name as his captors knew it, "ABAlex."He winced looking at it. However, it was still better then what was on the other side. THAT he didn't even want to think about.His outfit matched the room perfectly well. He had a cardigan sweater, black t shirt, collar and long stockings which would almost look punk rock if it weren't for their designs. The t shirt was decorated with colorful cats, and the only aspect of his odd outfit that seemed to match were the pink polka dots on both his sweater and socks. He put a hand to his neck. The collar was far from the decorative ones people wore for fashion, though he supposed it could pass as one in public. He had already been shown how well a leash could be locked onto it, and the annoying invisible wall and shocks he'd run into where ever his masters decided to set them. He had tried numberous times to take it off, but that only resulted in punishments reminder of how futile it was. And, finally, there was the coup de grace of the outfit, the one thing that removed any chance of the rest of his clothes being passed off as normal, and the one thing that turned any possible rebellious or punk themes of it into a sick joke. A diaper, pink and thick enough to force his legs apart, was uncovered and taped firmly on. At this point he knew better then to mess with those tapes. He blushed as he did almost every time he looked at it or thought of it, a fact his masters knew well and exploited as much as possible.He heard a key turn in the outwardly locked door in the corner. In strode a tall, well dressed man. He had short cropped blond hair and was smiling broadly."Well hello there little ABAlex, how you feeling?""My names not..." Alex felt his anger boiling up. "WHY WOULD MY NAME BE AN ACRONYM FOR A FETISH?" Alex instantly regretted shouting. In his first week he had learned to try to hold back his anger and frustration with his captors. However, it constantly built up inside him, and still came out in outbursts. Making matters worse was their seeming unwillingness to acknowledge that he even WAS a captive, and their misuse of his pen name drove the point home. Did they really think ABAlex DLAlex was a name? Or was this some bizarre joke?"HEY! YOU DON'T SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!" the man said, shaking a finger."I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Alex pleaded.The man folded his arms and looked expectantly. "I'm sorry what?" He said.Alex cringed again. "I'm sorry... Daddy." He finally finished. He was one of a few people Alex now had to call such names. There was also a 'mommy," a few aunts and uncles, and babysitters. Like a child, he only ever used their titles, and sometimes portions of their names. He wasn't sure if the names he was given were real or not, he seemed to remember hearing "Daddy" was named "Mike.""Good baby. Now, sit up and let me check your diaper."Alex winced. "Its clean," he said, trying to avoid the humiliating patting down that normally came after.The man came up anyway, pulling Alex up from sitting to his knees, and began patting it."I said its clean!"'Silly baby, you think if we can't trust you to be out of diapers, we'd trust you to tell us when it was used?" He ruffled Alex's hair.Alex could only blush as the man seemed to take extra time to confirm his diaper wasn't used. He finished patting it, then bent Alex over and but his head near his back, and finally pulled the top out on both sides before letting it snap back to Alex's waist."Good baby! You managed to keep it clean! It seems you were lucky with your guess." He ruffled Alex's hair again. Alex could only groan. "Now, how is your story coming?""Uhhh..." Alex stared down at the blank sheet of paper, too afraid to answer. The man pulled it from his hands.'NOTHING!? You've been here an hour!"'I know Daddy! I'm sorry, I just can't think!""You spoiled little..." The man sighed. "Now look, I know you like to play these games and get in trouble, but we really do need you to work. Thats the deal- your dream life, but you write to pay for it. You don't want a repeat of what happened last time you refused to right, do you?" He changed from a condescending smile to an inquisitive look. "Do you?"Alex groaned inwardly. He had just laid out the final indignity of the entire situation. Not only was Alex a captive, but he was forced to pay for his own captivity. He was ordered to write kink stories for hours every day, which were then sold online. As long as Alex kept going, they spent the money on more childish toys and clothes for him to add to his embarrassment. But if he stopped... he shook his head. The last time he stopped, they stopped buying diapers for a week. He ended up locked in the same set of diapers and plastic pants for days, struggling in an uncomfortable mess until he finally produced something worth selling, then he had to wait or shipment... He didn't want to repeat that, especially not with the rash that followed. The fact that his "Daddy" seemed to think he might actually want it and be trying to get it again terrified him."I don't want a repeat Daddy," he said. "And I don't like to play these games! I told you, I don't want this at all! It was all just stories! I'm not acting up to 'get in trouble," I really don't like it here!"The man laughed. "Suuure. Of course not." He patted Alex's head. "Silly ABAlex. We know what you want. You love your pampers. After all, you wrote about them a thousand times.""BUT ITS NOT WHAT I WANT!""Thats enough. We gave you what you wanted. You live your dream, but you have to produce stories to pay for it. Now, keep writing, or you'll spend another week in stinky diapers. Is that what you want, you little brat? You certainly wrote about it enough, and alllways had the AB's whining just like you are now. You know we have to put up with the smell too!""No! I don't want that!""You always said that but it always happened. Just admit it, write the stories and have fun in your huggies.""Huggies? I thought you said they were pampers daddy," Alex said with mock innocent.The man glared. "Are you going to listen or will I have to really punish you?"Alex stopped. He wasn't going to win this argument. This is why safety words are important, he thought. They didn't seem to want any though. "I'll write the stupid story," he grumbled.'Good. Don't be a brat. We are doing what you want, you have to pay back somehow."Alex stuck his toung out. That, at least, was a childish enough response to be accepted.The situation had begun a few months back the first time Alex had attended an ABDL convention. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it. It was a new thing for him, but he had talked to others who had gone and it seemed fine. However, that night would change his life in ways he wouldn't dreamed of....Alex walked through rows and rows of stalls in the massive gymnasium turned abdl convention. There were diapers everywhere, some uncovered, others hidden by babyish onesies and short skirts. Alex looked down at his own clothes. Jeans, a shirt, nothing out of the ordinary. He almost felt under dressed. Should he have bought something and dressed up for this? He supposed he could have at least worn something pink. Would a diaper have been too much? A lot of people seemed to be wearing them. However, he'd still be wearing one in public, a big no in his mind. There was also having to bus and walk all the way to the convention... It couldn't have happened.He looked at the signs on the stalls, and found one for writers. He walked toward it. There was a group standing around it, some of them talking, others passing around bundles of paper or signing them. He was still nervous. Was there point in going? Its not like anyone would even know who he was... or would they? They were there specifically for ABDL stories, and he had been writing for a while... Still though, he doubted it. He wasn't sure what was worse, having people recognize him, or be confused as to why he was there while more prominent artists were praised. He swallowed his fear, and walked forward."Hi... I'm Alex," he said shyly. He had signed up for this area, but how should he approach it? It was not like people would really know who he was?"Oh, are you one of the writers?" a brown haired girl with a clipboard said."Yes. Alex. Umm... it might say ABAlex.""OH!" she looked through her list. "Yes, right here.""Don't you need ID or something?""What? In case someone is pretending to be a sissy who writes stories about messy diapers for a living? No, I don't think so.""ITS NOT-""Now now, don't have a tantrum and fill your pampers. The changing room is on the other side of the floor, and from what I've heard your diaper butt isn't exactly fragrant.""THE AROMA OF MY BACKSIDE IS NOT UP FOR DISCUSSION!" Alex sighed. "I don't write for a living, its just a...""Oh, so a diaper filling baby who can't even make money off of his stories? Thats MUCH better.""ITS A HOBBY! And I'm not wearing a diaepr!""Oh, you aren't?" She glanced down at his waist. "Thats irresponsible. We don't want you making a mess on the floor. This better not be one of your kinks, wetting yourself in your so called 'big boy clothes' before being forced into diapers. You've certainly wrote about that enough, Mr. ABAlex.""Its not... wait, you read my..."Alex was cut off by a hand on his shoulders. He turned to see a tall blond haired man."I'm sorry, did I just hear that ABAlex wasn't wearing a diaper?""Yes, that's true," the woman said."And why not?" the man asked Alex.Alex blushed. Since when should he have to explain why he, a full grown man, WASN"T wearing a diaper? "Well I uhh... its not really a thing, I just write about it...""Liar. We all heard your stories." There was some mumbling in agreement. Alex looked around, being uncomfortably aware of a group of people surrounding him, all watching and seeming to agree with the strange man's assessment.Another woman, this one a red head wearing a 50-s style dress, came up and grabbed Alex's other shoulder. "This is probably just a game for him. In all his stories he starts off without diapers and is made to wear them. Its probably what he wants, isn't it, ABAlex.""No! Those are just stories! I'm not a baby!""Isn't that what he always says? You deny it, then are forced into submissive training, or brought to a pageant..." another from the crowed said. Alex became more and more nervous as he realized he was being ganged up on."Or spanked by the babysitter," the woman said. Alex gulped when he noticed she had taken a paddle out from her pocket.Alex turned around and walked backwards away from them, trying to put space between hem but not look like he was running. "Guys, guys, I appreciate that you read my stuff, but those are all just stories! Its a hobby...""So your hobby is writing horrible stories about grown men and woman in diapers? Really? It might have been better to just admit you are a baby who needs diapers yourself.""Barely writes at that. Your posting output is certainly not responsible to your fans. Definitely better to admit you're a baby, then you'd have an excuse. Need breaks from writing for diaper changes?"Alex laughed, hoping it was a joke. "No no, I actually don't wear....""Oh? Never? So if I look at your profile I will find no evidence that makes you a liar? You know what happens to liars in your own stories? It involves soap, in case you've forgotten."Alex gulped. "RARELY use them.""So you do wear diapers then?" another asked."Ummm... sometimes..."The man grabbed him again. "And you didn't think that if you were coming to a DIAPER convention full of people wearing DIAPERS and people who are fans of your stories about DIAPERS, you shouldn't have worn a diaper? If anything for your fans? Seems irresponsible.""You're actually a fan!?" Alex cut off the question realizing how silly it was to suddenly be happy about that. "Welll... you're not wearing a diaper either!"The man shook his head. "I don't write about myself filling them. I also don't have people waiting to see me in a diaper and baby clothes.""Th... there are people wiating to see me?" What could THAT mean?The man suddenly smiled. "Its ok little one. All just a joke. Here, can we take a picture with you?""Umm... I guess so...""Good. Drink this while we do. For effect, you know." He handed Alex a bottle of baby milk.'I don't..." Alex realized he didn't want to start THAT conversation again. He drank from the bottle as they lined up behind him....And that was all he remembered. Next thing he knew he was waking up in a crib, wearing a diaper and a onesie, and staring up into the smiling faces of the same blond man and red haired woman, who he now knew as "mommy" and "daddy."Alex snapped back to reality.The man, now his "Daddy," had turned around at the door."Almost forgot," he said. He returned and picked Alex up, then sat at the edge of the crib and placed Alex in his lap. He took out a bottle of juice. "Can't let the baby go without drinking, can we?""Is there something in this?" Alex asked. He had been suspicious for a long time that they put things in his drinks. Some would make him fall asleep, letting them walk him around in a stroller as he napped and others cood, some would keep him awake, letting him write stories more often, some weakened his muscles so people could 'play' with him, then there was whatever they had given him at the convention, but the worst... He'd have trouble arguing against them, since they denied giving it to him and they featured so heavily in his stories."Hush, don't be silly," his daddy said as he put the bottle to Alex's lips."Uh huh," Alex said sarcastically, but drank anyway. There was no point in arguing. He drank quickly, wanting it to be done. At the end, he could already feel a cramp in his stomach confirming his suspicion. The man patted Alex's back as if burping him, and Alex blushed at the extra moment of babyish treatment. His 'daddy" then set him back down in the crib, kissed him on the forehead and told him to get to work, a shaking finger implying the "or else."....Alex remembered the first day here very clearly.He had sat up very quickly, looking around and confirming that he wasn't dreaming. He reached down to his waist, confirming his suspicion the he was in fact diapered. The embroidered onesie covering it, bright pink and with sparkles spelling "princess" across his chest, wasn't much better then the diaper."Little Lexis awake! Awww the baby seems startled!" the woman said."Please tell me where I am?" Alex asked."Mhmmm. Don't worry, little ABAlex. You are home now, where you belong. We all know that you wanted to be a baby, and the big people world was too much for you. So, enough of that, now you get to write stories and play all day, exactly like you wanted.""What?! NO! Is this a joke? How did you do..." he was cut off as a pacifier was shoved in his mouth."Now now, don't through a tantrum or you are going to get a spanking. You can pretend to be upset if you want, you'll get the punishments you always write about. We all know what you are.""No!" Alex stood up and climbed out of the crib. He tried to run for the open door. He was surprised to find the strangers hadn't tried to stop him. Just as he reached the door, he slammed into something and fell backwards. He got up and moved toward it again, this time slower. He hit a wall as the collar neared the door.The man appeared behind him and hooked a leash onto his collar. "Silly baby. Think we'd just leave that open? We can set a wall for your collar wherever we want it. Normally we will give you more room, but we figured you should find out how it works." He closed the door in Alex's face, then locked it and pocketed the key. "This door can lock from either side anyway."The woman stood beside him and took a hold of his leash. "Now, crawl toward me! Come to mommy!" She began backing away while curling her finger to signal him forward.Alex was panicking. He reached for the leash and collar, trying to undo either but finding it impossible. The leash was locked to the collar, and the collar seemed to be sewn on, almost one piece. Not wanting to endure the humiliation of being lead crawling on a leash, Alex stood up and pulled at it...And fell right back down, feeling a slight, but annoying, shock."Yes, thats the other thing we can do with your collar. Now crawl to mommy," she said, and Alex followed, whining but obediently crawling like a trained puppy. Or a baby girl, he realized.Once they reached the crib, she sat down in front of him. "Now, I know this is your first day, but we can't let you get away with such misbehavior. So, i am going to give you a spanking. If you come over my lap and let me do it without struggling like a good little baby girl, I'll go easy on you. If you fight and I have to force you, and I can with the collar, it will be much worse. OK?"Alex considered his options. Go over her lap, obey like a passive little lamb, humiliating himself with his own weakness or stand up for himself and inevitably get it worse?"I'm waiiitting..." the woman said in a cheery voice.Alex winced. She was half his size, in reality it would be no competition. She din't even seem to be older then him. And yet he was expected to obey her and degrade himself at her whim? Be HER baby and submissive? SHe was patting her lap expectantly, as if knowing the outcome. He was going to get it either way, he knew, and he had already crawled for her.Feeling upset at himself, Alex stood up and willingly lay over her lap."As I expected," She said. "Little sissies can't argue against their mommies or fight for themselves, that's why they need to be taken care of. What a good little sissy baby you are, a good princess."The first spank on his diapered behind had made Alex yelp. They got worse and worse, until Alex was bawling and crying over her lap, begin spanked to tears by someone half his size and too much of a sissy to stand up for himself. At least, that is what he knew it would look like. She had finished his punishment by cradling him in her lap and kissing him as he drank from a bottle, rocking him until his tears stopped. Alex had known at that point it would be almost impossible to ever argue he wasn't what they said he was. He would try, though.That was the beginning of his new life. A seemingly endless stream of humiliations, bizarre outfits and punishments had followed. He was spanked constantly for the smallest misbehavior, then sent to the corner or locked in his high chair to think about his actions. He was diapered constantly, usually wearing childish onesies or dresses along with them. The times he was allowed in public he was given slightly more passable clothing, but still spent most of his time wondering if anyone noticed his bulging undergarments. The smell of diapers surrounded him constantly and filled his room, whether it was combined with the smell of talcum power or something much worse depended on the day. He had learned to avoid crawling near the diaper pail very early on, almost as much as what was on the far wall. THAT he didn't even want to think about. Every part of his life aside from the writing, from the way he was fed, to the way he was talked to, to the way he was put down for his bedtimes and the toys and games he had all matched his new lifestyle. He considered himself lucky his masters thought video games were "childish."Alex had spent weeks hoping it was some kind of joke, perhaps another one of Kacey's pranks. He had tried to escape numerous times, but between locked doors, people always watching him, and the collar that seemed to function as both a wall and a tracking device, he had realized it was almost impossible. Any attempts to argue or fight his way out were just passed off as him deliberately being 'naughty' to get the kink style punishments they assumed he wanted. At this point Alex wasn't sure if they really believed it or were just saying this.At the same time, Alex's output had increased. His new masters had found dozens of ways to make money off of it, everything from a paetron to commissions and exclusive stories for sale, all penned by Alex, and almost all about his own humiliation. This seemed to be part of their own argument too. Whenever Alex pointed to old comments he made about not wanting an ABDL lifestyle as it would be unfullfilling, they pointed to his stories. He had a career, they said, and an arguably successful one. That definitely made up for the rest. If anything, this career was more creative, and let him express himself. When there was extra money, they even took him on trips, flying to other countries and making outings where Alex squirmed and struggled to keep his diapers hidden, but at least in places he wanted to go. It was exactly what he had been talking about. ABDL life, but still a complete life. Alex had not come up with a counter argument, and he doubted they really cared....Alex was once again brought back to reality, this time by a cramping in his own gut."No..." he whispered. He always hated this part. All the rest would almost be passable in comparison. It was the part he argued the most against, but the part his masters seemed the most adamant about.It was coming up quickly. They DEFINITELY had given him something. They must have, he thought.Alex tried to hold it back. He didn't know when they would be back to see him, and he didn't want to sit in it longer then necessary. However, he knew his struggles were pointless.He tried to concentrate on something else. He stared at the pad and pencil, trying to think of something to write. Instead, all he could think of was the growing pain in his stomach.Another cramp came. Involuntarily he jerked up on his knees and stuck his bottom out. A long, loud gush came out from his backside and into his diaper. He groaned, and began pushing. A series of noises came out with each push as his diaper became fuller and fuller. He blushed at each one. They had radios in his room, he knew, and could hear each one. He was certain part of whatever they were giving him deliberately made his mess louder. He held his breath against the smell that came from behind him. And smellier, probably. Well, if that is what they wanted... Alex turned his backside to face the large white teddy bear he knew had a radio in. He brought his backside as close to it as possible, pushed and with a loud "BRAPPPT" he finished filling his diaper right where they would hear it. It was a petty kind of revenge, he knew, and probably worse for him then it was for them. However, if he had to use his diapers, perhaps he could at least make anyone listening jump. Almost on cue, the door opened again. Alex was relieved at first, thinking he'd get a change. Then he turned pale, remembering he had yet to write anything."Hey ABAlex! How are you doing? Have you been a good little girl?" It was his "mommy" this time. His masters seemed to go back and forth between refering to him as a 'baby boy' and 'baby girl,' presumably thinking a sissy counted as somewhere in between. His mommy, however, always preferred the later.She spoke to him in the same sickly sweet tone she always used for him. Unlike his "Daddy," who would openly talk about what was happening as a kink and Alex as an adult in diapers, his "Mommy", never dropped the pretense that he was, in fact, a baby girl. She was the first to cuddle or coo over him, but at the same time, she was often the most malicious. She seemed to delight in watching him blush at her tone as she passed off the most degrading commands as normal, and the first to find reasons to 'discipline' him. She preferred that word over 'punish' as the man said, as she enjoyed the idea that it was for his own good. She couldn't spank as hard as Daddy did, but she had more then one way to make up for it."Y... yes mommy," he said."Hmmm... you don't sound to confident. Hows your story? And let me check your diaper.""Ummm, I need a change mommy!" He said, hoping to stay on the topic that, while humiliating, would not get him punished.'Oh? A change of what? I'm not sure what you are talkiing about."Alex pouted. She always made him say it. "I need a diapie change please mommy.""And why is that? Tell me. Why do I need to change your diaper?""Because..." Alex blushed. "Because its stinky, mommy. I have a stinky diaper.""Why? Say it all and ask nicely now. You don't get to demand changes. You can beg, and mommy decides.""Mommy, my diaper is stinky because I messed it. Can I get a diapie change please?""Better. Now, do big girls mess their diapers?""No...""Who does?"Babies do.""Say it again properly."'Mommy, my diapie is stinky because I am a baby and messed it. Can I get a change please?""Better. And the answer is no.""WHAT!?"She smiled broadly, then grabbed his arms and helped him stand up. "Silly baby!" she said. "You really can't tell when your messy or not, can you? Even daddy was talking about it.""Wh...waht?" Alex was confused.She reached behind him and patted his bottom hard, making him cringe at the feeling. "See? All clean. No need for a diaper change."Alex turned pale as he realized what she was doing.She sat on the crib and pulled Alex down onto her lap, facing him. Alex cringed again as he was forced to sit in his mess, and even more so as she began to bounce him and pat his bottom. "Silly baby girl. We all know babies can't tell when they fill their pampers or not, that is why they need them. You know what? From now on, just let Mommy or Daddy check them and tell you when your messy, ok?"Alex pouted at having this other freedom stripped from him."Anyway, it hasn't been long enough.""What?"She held up his blank writing pad. "See? You haven't even had time to finish your story. There is no way you'd have time to need a diaper change before you had time to finish your story.""What do you ... Oh, I get it." Alex stared at her, unable to hide how unimpressed he was.She didn't seem to mind. "Good baby. Now, about your story..."She sat him down on his bottom, once again making him wince at the feeling. Worse still was the way she had him facing. She did it deliberatly he knew, making him stare at the one thing he tried to avoid the most.'Maybe this will encourage you, little ABAlex" she said, confirming what Alex had thought. She put a pacifier in his mouth. "Now, no talking. No more distractions, no moving or turning around until you are done. You wouldn't want us to have to USE one of those again, would you?"Alex shook his head sadly. She kissed him and walked out happily. Alex looked up at what he had never wanted to see. The far wall was by far the worst of it all, even if it was the one part that didn't fit the babyish theme of the rest of his life.That wall was a large part of the reason he didn't fight back as much as he would if. It stood out clearly, was the only thing that wasn't pastel colored, pink or baby blue. Instead it was a deep red. It, according to his masters, was his 'punishment' wall. That is, when the regular childish punishments- hand spankings, corner times, etc.- weren't enough. It was cover with ropes, chains, paddles and whips, with bondage equipment and machines around it. He had been put through almost all of it at one point to another, twisted into convoluted positions, held in place for hours, or given spankings far worse then his owners's could with their hands. Of everything there, it was the part he wished he could convince them he really did not like, but the part arguing against seemed to confirm his kinks the most for them. So there he was, stuck in a crib, sitting in a messy diaper, facing a wall of bondage equipment, and knowing full well the only way to get out of the crib, get his diaper changed, or avoid the bondage equipment would be to write a story which would be used to fund more locks, diapers, and punishment toys. 'Oh well," he thought. Nothing would come from fighting at this point. He supposed in a way it was what he had said he had wanted... and writing the stories was, in an odd way, fulfilling. He couldn't deny he had an abdl kink, he just never expected it to come so strongly.He needed to think of something. He had been writing story after story for weeks, and was low on ideas. He needed a kink story about someone being treated like a baby or a girl.He suckled his pink pacifier, hoping it would help him think.Often his most popular involved using diapers....He squirmed in his own uncomfortable mess, and crinkled his nose at the smell....Or had punishment, embarrassment or forced aspects to it....He stared at the wall of paddles and ropes.How would he think of a story like that?...Eventually, after considering what to do, he decided what to write. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone what was happening, but most people would take it as a joke anyway. He started writing with "I was like something out of a..."PS: Help! Please, they let this out because I told them people would think its a joke! Help me!PPS: Hahah that was just a silly joke. Even though this story perfectly matches what I always write about and what I truly, deeply want, it is not happening right now. No need to worry or set up search party. Definitely don't look for hidden meanings or messages, say, by reading the first letter of each line after "Alex remembered the first day here very clearly.PPPS: PLEASE DEAR GOD THIS IS NOT A JOKE SOMEONE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY I SWEAR It...PPPPS: All a joke. Move on.
  6. (Another old story being reposted) Crabula pulled at her hair, gritting her teeth in frustration. The little brat just wasn’t listening.“I don’t wanna!” her twelve year old charge screamed. “Well you have to! I’m the babysitter, and I said so! Now turn the tv off!” Crabula replied. He wards mother had demanded tv be turned off by 8:00.“I don’t care if you’re the babysitter! I’m twelve years old! I don’t need a babysitter!”“Well maybe, but you’re certainly not acting like a twelve year old! Clearly your mother hired me because you weren’t mature enough to be left on your own all night, and now you are proving her right! You are acting like a baby!” just as she said it, she knew it was the wrong thing to say. Her ward, Jessica, a small blond haired girl wearing jeans and a blue shirt, had been acting up all night. Crabula herself, a medium built brunet in jean shorts and a t-shirt, hadn’t wanted to be cruel to the young girl, no matter how spoiled she acted. However, there was no going back now.“A baby! I’ll show you!” Jessica tried to grab at Crabula, but Crabula just held onto her wrists.“That’s it,” Crabula said, “I’ve had enough. Go to bed now!”“WHAT!? Its only 8:00! Mom said I could stay up until ten.”“Yes but she also said I should send you to be earlier if you are acting up. Do you want me to have to tell your mother you weren’t listening?”The girl pouted. “No….”“Then off to bed,” she said sternly, pointing toward the stairs.“Fine. But you’ll regret this.”“Oh I’m SOOO scared…” Crabula said sarcastically.She watched as the girl walked up the stairs, went into her room, and shut the door. She had to admit, she was a little surprised the girl responded so quickly.Now finally having time alone, Crabula returned to the living room. There was a large flat screen tv, a black leather couch, and several book shelves. She sat down on the couch and turned on the tv. That rule had been made for Jessica, and since she was in bed, she saw no reason to enforce it for herself. As she watched, she turned on her laptop and ran through her school files, checking if her grades had come in. For the most part, she had done well, and a list of Bs with a few As came up.A few hours later there was a knock on the door. She got up to answer it, and saw Jessica’s parents standing there. They were a fairly young couple, mid or late thirties, and both tall. The father was brown haired and wore a suit, while the mother was the same blond as her daughter and wore a long green dress.“Oh! Hello Mr. and Mrs. Smith. How was your night out?”“It was amazing. Thanks so much for coming in on such short notice for Jessica. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble…?” Mrs. Smith asked.“Oh it wasn’t a problem to come in” Crabula tried not to sound sarcastic. Getting a call with less than an hours notice was bad enough, and even worse on a Friday night, even if it was summer. “As for Jessica…” she knew she shouldn’t be trying to get revenge on a twelve year old girl, but couldn’t help herself. “To be honest, Mrs. Smith, she was a perfect little brat. She complained about everything, refused to turn off the tv, and generally acted like she was half her age. She even tried to push me! I had to send her to bed early.” She left out the part that Jessica had, in the end, gone to her bed without much of a fight and had been quite all night. She told herself it simply wasn’t important.“Oh really!? Well, I’m sure we will have to do something about that tomorrow. Thanks again, Crabula Mrs. Smith sounded generally surprised, though this was fairly common with Jessica. Crabula took the money for the night, said goodbye, and left.As soon as she was out the door, Crabula let out a huge sigh of relief. She got on her bike, a large red Airbourne mountain bike, put on her helmet, switched on the lights and began riding. These nights were getting more and more stressful. Not many of her babysitting charges exactly liked her, and to be honest, the feeling was mutual. Crabula was constantly shocked at how rude and immature they could be. Was she really that bad at their age? She couldn’t have been. Perhaps she was a bit stricter then the other babysitters, and more willing to give punishments, but they needed it, it was how she was raised, and frankly she just couldn’t deal with it all. She only kept going because she REALLY needed the money to save for college. But between babysitting, school work, household chores, and the million other things she needed to do, she was more than worn out. She just wished she could have a break from it all, no responsibilities, no work…Suddenly her bike jammed and she felt herself flip over her handlebar. She landed with a thud on the ground, and felt her bike land on top of her.“OOPH!” she said. She began rubbing her shoulder and head where she had landed. Thank god for her helmet.She looked back at her bike. What had caused her to crash? She saw something on the path, half buried. Her tire must have hit it.She bent down for a closer look. To her surprise, what she found was metallic. She picked it up, and realized she was looking at a very old lamp.She almost laughed out loud. It was just like the ones she had seen in old stories and the “Aladdin” movie. It was made of bronze, with a handle, a wide body, and a long, thin neck. Almost as a joke, she began to rub it…And was surprised to see something come out. A long stream of red and gold smoke poured out of the neck, collecting into a massive cloud. She watched, stunned, as the cloud condensed into a being with red skin a broad gold bars wrapping around it. The world around him seemed to change, with colors flowing randomly, things bending and twisting, and everything feeling as if it was a dream.“I am Yasafar, the red genie. I am here to grant you your wishes three, whatever they may be,” the being spoke in a deep, powerful voice that shook the ground.Crabula, still sitting on the ground, was to shocked to speak.“Well?” it said."Wha...."It sighed. "I"M A GENIE! What will your pleasure be? I'll jot your order down... from looks of it you've never had a friend as good as me, probably never will... I can make you friends?"“Is… is this real? Did I hit my head in the fall?” Crabula began rubbing her scalp, feeling for any bruises.“Yes, this is real, and no, you didn’t. If it is your wish, however, I can give you a head injury.” The being began to raise its massive, muscular hand.“No no, that’s ok. Please don’t.” Crabula sunk down to the ground and raised her hands to protect herself.“Well then I must insist you come up with something. I have places to be you know,” the genie said.“What? Aren’t I supposed to be your master or something? What do you mean places to be?”“He listen lady, I have a life outside of work, ok? Not everything revolves around you.”“What? What things? What kind of genie are you?” she couldn’t believe it. Even having wishes granted was turning out to be stressful.“Look, I have a job to do like everyone else, and frankly, you aren’t exactly helping me do it. I happen to be a VERY GOOD Genie. I have many satisfied customers to prove it, so I don’t need your sass. Check my reviews online. So why don’t we just move this along, ok? What do you want?”“Well… I uh….” Crabula had never really thought about it. Frankly, the idea of a Genie having ratings online had confused her too much to think.“Oh do hurry up,” the genie said, creating a watch on his wrists so he could glance at it and emphasise his point. “Perhaps thinking is a bit rough for you. Want more brain cells?” He began to raise his hand again.“Hey, NO! That’s not what I want. Jackass!”“Hmm. Seems strange that you wouldn’t care about being smart. Says a lot about you.” Crabula’s jaw dropped. “But if you want a Jackass, then I can definitely do that.”“NO! Jackass is an insult, you dumbass!”“Oh it is, is it? Well call me a dumbass if you want, at least I could come up with a wish. Now, what do you want?”“Uhhhh…”“Uhhh… uhhh. Sorry! All out of “uhhh”. I don’t know what “uhhh” is. Anything you want other than “uhhh?”“OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SUCH AN A-HOLE!”“Oh an a-hole am I? Not a nice thing to say to someone offering you free stuff.”Crabula moaned in frustration. Why was everything in her life so stressful?“Weeelll?” the Genie said.“Alright alright.” Crabula thought back to all the work she had to do, babysitting spoiled kids, having o pay for things, buying books and clothes for college, studying… “I want to be free from responsibilities. I want everything to be taken care of for me, clothes, food, everything. And I want my babysitting charges, especially the ones who always seem to hate me, to know how it feels to go through what they put me through.“Alright. To be quite honest, those where pretty lousy wishes. Like, a four out of ten AT BEST. 2 stars. Anything else, maybe a bit smarter, you’d want? Try thinking this time. Reconsider WITHOUT using the stupid part of your brain.”“WHAT!? THOSE WERE EXCELLENT WISHES!! THEY ARE LIKE A 9 OUT OF TEN AT LEAST! I DID THINK ABOUT THEM, AND I’M PLENTY SMART! YOU”RE JUST A DUMBASS!” at this point, Crabula was willing to leave with or without her wishes just to get rid of him. She had put up with FAR too much to deal with this right now, so she definitely wasn’t taking time to reconsider her wishes.The genie looked a little irritated, but sighed. “Alright, if that’s what you want, your wishes are granted.” He waved his hand.There was a flash of light followed by a swirling of colors. All of her senses went wild.... all the sights, smells, sounds she had ever experienced hitting her at once. They spun around her, forming a kaleidoscope of every sense. Finally they began to turn fuzzy, and she felt like she would pass out.Crabula heard a doorbell ring. She looked around. It was day time, and she was standing on someone's porch, holding someone else's hand. Upon looking up, she saw the hand she was holding belonged to her mother, and the porch was the Smith's. She noticed a bicycle much like hers, a Airbourne mountain bike, except that it was bright pink with tassels on the handles and beads on the wheels, and came equipped with training wheels. She eyed it suspiciously. What was going on?The door opened. Mrs. Smith greeted them at the door. "Oh hello there! Glad to see you. We were just about ready to go.""Good, we are all packed," her mother replied.Crabula looked back and forth in confusion. She wanted to know what was going on, but was worried asking would seems suspicious. Instead, she kept her mouth closed and walked in.Something else was different. She looked down to see her clothes had changed. She still wore the jean shorts, but instead of ending at the belt line, they continued up into a set of overalls decorated with a kitten. Underneath she had on the same cut of t-shirt, except in pink. Why would she be dressed so oddly?These questions had to wait as she saw someone coming. It took her a moment to recognize Jessica, wearing the same thing she had been the night before. She looked the same but at the same time, somehow different. She seemed larger, for one, and, though Crabula couldn't really explain why, more mature. Or was she just shorter? She looked around, but couldn't tell. Everything seemed strange. It was the same as before, but different. She couldn't really put her finger on what was different, though. What was going on? Where was that Genie? She tried to mentally summon him, but nothing happened. Crabula's mother leaned in towards her. "Now, you play nice for Jessica, ok? I don't want to hear horror stories about your misbehaviour." She waggled a finger in Crabula's face.Crabula's eyes went wide. Did that mean that Jessica was babysitting her? Surely it couldn't be true. However, she did her best to hide it, and nodded."Alright then! Goodbye Crabula! Have fun, and remember to behave!"she kissed Crabula on the cheek, and walked out the door.Crabula watched as they left, still confused."Well well, look who we have here. I can't say I'm surprised." She heard Jessica say. She turned to face her, and saw the girl smiling sadistically while walking toward her.“Wh… what do you mean? What is going on?†Crabula stuttered. There was something going on with here. Now that Jessica was right in front of her, she could see for certain that she was still taller then Jessica. The same was true when she compared herself to anything else, she was the same height as before. But somehow, she still felt smaller, and appeared that way. It was as if the world was full of optical illusions making her seem small."Awww does the widdle girl really not know? Let me remind you. You, the strictest, meanest babysitter ever, tried to be a big girl, went to university, failed, and got declared a never-grow-up. From what I understood you failed at almost every aspect of growing up. Now the girl you used to babysit is your babysitter. Does that help?"“What are...” Crabula’s jaw dropped. Though she knew it was impossible, she did in fact remember. Memories of a completely separate life came flooding in, of her in college, of her stumbling around failing at all the things she tried, throwing tantrums, forgetting to dress properly, forgetting to pay bills, followed by the humiliating process of having her age determined at trial and set to far younger then it should be, having herself dressed as a pre-schooler and sent home. As far as she remembered, they hadn’t yet determined exactly how young she was, and she could still go lower. Even pre-school now was only a possibility, if she behaved.It all seemed impossible, yet true at the same time. In order to check, she reached down to the waist of her own clothes. She was afraid to do it, but she knew she had to check something. She grabbed at the overalls and pulled, and both saw and felt the Disney princess pull up she wore underneath, all sized perfectly for her.This wasn’t possible. She knew it couldn’t be. “Alright,” she said, “I don’t care how I’m dressed or what they said, you are still the younger one. You’re almost a decade younger then me! I’m not doing anything you say!”Jessica only laughed. “Awww is the little girl throwing a tantrum? Maybe you need your pull up checked. Is that why you were looking down there?” She reached out to grab her wrist.Crabula tried to pull away. However, when just the night before it had been the easiest thing in the world to restrain the little brat, she found herself being overpowered easily. How was this possible? Jessica effortlessly overpowered her. She pulled the embarrassed girl into the living room, undid the buckles on her overalls, and pulled them down. She then sat down on a coach and pulled a still struggling Crabula over her lap, with her bum in the air. “Wow! What a naughty girl! So much trouble over a pull-up check. Given the things you would do to me when I was "naughty," that can't be good for you” She gave her a single smack on the bottom, then patted and checked her pull up. Crabula blushed bright red. She couldn’t believe she was being babysat by a twelve year old, not to mention getting spanked by one and having her pull up checked by a twelve year old. Or, at least, someone she remembered as a twelve year old.“Oh Wow! Still dry and clean! What a good little girl!” she patted Crabula’s head, and Crabula had to stifle a bit of pride and the praise. “Maybe you are thirsty then. That’s fine, I expected it, and came prepared.”Ignoring Crabula’s complaints and resistance, she sat the girl on her lap. She took grabbed a sippy cup filled with apple juice Crabula just noticed was on the shelves beside the couch, and began to feed her.At first, Crabula refused to drink. However, Jessica simply spoke quietly in her ear. “You better drink up and behave little girl, I don’t want to give you a REAL spanking, or tell your mommy you were misbehaving. I can remember you doing the to me more then once, and I have to say, it isn’t fun.”At these words, Crabula began to drink. She really didn’t want to test it and find out what happened if she misbehaved in this world. However, the memories came back to answer her. She did, in fact, remember plenty of spankings when she complained about her new position. In the end, any complaint she made only served to make them think of her as even smaller. Now, here she was, in the hands of a power tripping spoiled brat who had every reason to want revenge. She shuddered, dreading to think what Jessica could think of. Finally she finished the sippy cup. “Good girl!” Jessica said mockingly. “Now, come with me. I have some people I want you to meet again.”“What?! Who…?”“Tsk tsk, no questions now little girl. You will see.”Jessica lead her by the hand, still only in the shirt and pull up, through the house, up the stairs, and into Jessica’s bedroom. It was still the same bedroom, with pink walls and, bookshelves, a desk with a computer, and a large white bed. It occurred to Crabula that, despite Jessica seeming to be older here, she was still the same person and behaved the same way. This made it all the worse, not only was she being babysat by someone almost a decade younger then herself, but someone who acted like she was a decade younger then herself.Two things, however, were different in the room. The first, clearly a new addition, was a large, white crib, complete with a mobile hanging over it, and a high chair.The second, and the reason Crabula knew that the crib was a new addition, was that the room was already full of half a dozen people. Specifically, it was full of the kids Crabula babysat. Even more specifically, it was full of the ones who really, really resented Crabula’s particular style of babysitting, and acted up for it. Some were putting the finishing touches on the high chair, including My Little Pony bedsheets and stuffed animals. It took Crabula a second to realize this was what she had asked for, for the kids who didn’t like her to go through what she put them through. This, of course, was not what she meant at all. Once again, she tried, and failed, to summon the Genie.The group of young boys and girls looked up and grinned sadistically as Crabula entered. At once they began giggling and pointing at her.“Nice pull ups, Crabula.”“Hey there BABYSITTER. Doesn’t seem you were quite as big as you thought you were?” Crabula squeezed her eyes shut. This could NOT be happening. All of them, all barely teenagers, but somehow still seemed older then herself, when she was an adult… IT DIDN”T MAKE SENSE! Briefly she wished she had in fact hit her head on falling, and this was all a dream.“Now, little one,” Jessica said mockingly. “As you can see, we have a bit of a different lifestyle for you in the works. She pointed toward the crib.“What!? You can’t do that! Even with the court I’m not that immature,” Crabula tried to argue within the confines of this new world.“Ahh yes, but that was still debatable, wasn’t it? You could still go lower, and from what I heard you were bordering on it already. These were even left here in case we needed it this weekend. Got that? In case I decide that YOU need to be a baby instead. They trust my opinion over yourse that much. We all agreed that would be for the best. And with the way you treated us, you don't really deserve more.” Crabula replied, and the others nodded.“But… but… theres no way they will let you do this.”“Oh they will. Are you arguing with your babysitter, little girl? Do you want to be punished?” Crabula shook her head as Jessica spoke. “Then you better do as I say. And the first thing you are going to do is wet that pull up.” She pointed to the childish garment Crabula was wearing.“WHAT!? NO! I’m not going to!”“Oh no?” Jessica said, grinning. She looked back at the group of kids. “Grab her!”“Wai… What!?” Crabula barely got out before she felt all of her limbs grabbed. She was picked up and held on the ground by the kids. Jessica climbed on top of her and began tickling her. She shrieked out in laughter, and struggled pointlessly to get away. The others began to get in too, tickling her ribs, her stomach, her armpits, and worse of all her feet.Crabula knew what they were doing. By tickling her, they were trying to make her lose control and wet herself, so they would have an excuse to make her even younger. She did everything she could to fight against it, but felt her resolved weaken. The pressure inside her built, and her mussels were harder and harder to control. Finally she felt a warm wetness spread into her pull up.All at once the tickling stopped. Crabula stopped laughing, but her laughter was replaced by that of the kids pointing at her now soaked pull ups. The picture, which had formally been pink, changed to a dark purple to indicate it was wet. Crabula was on the verge of tears.“Now then little one, no more arguing?” Jessica asked. Crabula shook her head.“Good. Then lets get you dressed, and properly this time.” Crabula shuddered at these words, dreading what they could mean.
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