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Hi guys! Evelyn's Regression was my very first story. Well, actually, it was Mom & I, but I kinda forgot the password and email for that account. The concept of the story, however, is very similar—an immature mother being regressed by a much more responsible daughter. Evelyn's Regression was a more complex take on that concept. And now this version expands on what came before and takes it to another level, setting up a sequel that will come soon. Or you can buy it on Kindle: Anyway, hope you enjoy it. For the complete story, check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections or you can buy it on Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSDP5SGL Evelyn's Regression The baby monitor crackled on Hailee’s desk, carrying the sound of sobs from the nursery she had set down the hall. She paused mid-scroll on her laptop, knowing too well what she needed to do. With a sigh, she rose from her chair. The moment she pushed open the door, she understood why the sobs—the smell was something she could never get used to, that combination of a messy diaper and baby powder was particularly intense. Inside the room, in an oversized crib, sat her mother. Evelyn—once an immature and disrespectful woman—looked small and miserable, knees drawn up beneath a frilly pastel onesie that strained across her fuller figure. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy with tears, and she shifted uncomfortably on the soaked, sagging padding beneath her. Hailee’s gaze lingered on the subtle bulge at the seat of the onesie. She knew her mother could still speak perfectly well, could still ask for what she needed. But that wasn’t how things worked anymore. Babies didn’t ask for it—they could only cry for their mommies and daddies. “Poor thing,” Hailee murmured to herself. “Looks like someone needs a change.” Evelyn’s eyes met hers—pleading, ashamed—and then dropped away. The sobs quieted to a soft, hiccuping whimper. Hailee reached for the latch on the crib rail. It was time to be the grown-up in the house. Though, to be fair, she had been the only grown-up in the house for a long time—even before she decided to regress her own mother to a pathetic baby girl. Chapter One Hailee’s Decision Evelyn and Hailee had always been opposites in every way that mattered. At thirty-nine, Evelyn was a tad chubby compared to her daughter. Five-foot-seven, with nice curves, a soft face, and long hair that fell almost to her waist. She wasn’t by any means ugly, and she knew that by the fact that boys would gaze at her whenever she walked into a room. But every year the attention she received menguated—which had led to feelings of insecurity she had not shared with anyone. More likely, that’s what prompted her need for a glass of wine or two or three every night. It was a mystery for Hailee how her mother had managed to keep her job as an English literature professor at the local college, though she suspected it had something to do with the Principal and the way he looked at Evelyn. Her mother was a wreck, and there was no sugarcoating it. Hailee, on the other hand, was probably the most put-together nineteen-year-old. Ever since she was a young girl, she had disliked the way her mother carried herself—the drunken nights passed out on the couch, the mood swings whenever a guy wouldn’t call back, the oversexualised nature of her conversations with friends. So she bowed to be different. She worked remotely for a small startup that paid better than any entry-level job out there. She had plans, ambition, investments, and savings. Things her mother knew nothing about. It wasn’t just the mentality; Hailee was also much taller than her mother. Strong shoulders, long sculpted legs, and abs that showed even through her loose tanks. She could’ve easily opened an OnlyFans account and become rich, but she preferred to use her mind rather than her body. To the outside world, they were a perfectly normal mother and daughter. Behind closed doors, though, things were different. Hailee hated it whenever her mother threw a fit in public—teenage tantrums were not something she expected from the person who was supposed to be the responsible one. But anything that drew stares seemed to be what her mother wanted. Whenever Evelyn pushed her buttons, Hailee waited until they were home, then tried to talk to her. Calmly. Reasonably. Evelyn did not enjoy calmly or reasonably. Who, exactly, was the adult in the house? That was the question Hailee had asked herself over and over since she was five. Since her father died and left her alone with Evelyn. But things were about to change in the house. It all began three months ago, right after Hailee’s nineteenth birthday. That morning, Hailee woke before dawn, ready to start her day—as always. A protein shake later with her earbuds in and her gym bag packed, she left the house. Three hours every morning. That’s what it took to keep that body, and what it took to keep from going mad in the house. Two hours after Hailee had left for the gym, Evelyn finally woke up. Confused at first, she couldn’t remember how she got back to her bed. Must have been Hailee…she thought…before closing her eyes again. But as she moved to find a more comfortable position, she felt it. It was cold around her crotch, soaked, a tad itchy. She didn’t need to look down. She knew what it was. Once again, for the third time that week, she had wet the bed. This has been going on and off for a few months now, and the doctor believed it was just a combination of stress and a lot of alcohol. But without alcohol, how could she deal with her stress? Evelyn lay in her soaked bed for a long moment, wishing the mattress would simply swallow her—she was not even forty, and she was having continence issues. Luckily, Hailee had not found out about it. She could already imagine what her ‘perfect’ daughter would say about it. But for now, it didn’t matter. She had work and couldn’t be late—not anymore. With a shaky breath, she pushed herself up. The sodden pajamas stuck uncomfortably to her skin. She peeled them off in the en-suite bathroom, balling them up and shoving them deep into the hamper. A quick glance in the mirror: flushed cheeks, puffy eyes. She looked every day of her almost-forty years this morning—maybe she should listen to the doctor and cut it with the alcohol. The shower was helping a little, but right when she was about to wash her hair, she realized she had run out of shampoo. She had meant to buy more last week, but she forgot. Without thinking, she wrapped a towel around herself and rushed down the hall to Hailee’s bathroom. The girl wouldn’t be back yet; she wouldn’t mind. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo in the shower—Hailee’s fancy salon brand—and hurried back, heart pounding. Hailee hated it when her mother grabbed her things without permission, and Evelyn knew that quite well. “I’ll bring it back later. She doesn’t need to know,” she muttered to herself as she finished showering. But she forgot. She left for work without even cracking a window open to air out the smell of ammonia in her bedroom. She did strip the sheets, but didn’t put them in for a wash. She’d deal with it later—or that’s what she told herself as she started the engine of her car. Not a few minutes later, Hailee returned home. Her shirt was soaked with her sweat, and she was in desperate need of a shower. But the moment she entered her bathroom, she noticed something was missing—again. She sighed. Naked and still sweating, she walked to her mother’s room, knowing she was probably rushing to get to class on time. If only she could wake up earlier. If only she could remember to do the most basic things in the house… Hailee opened the door to her mother’s bedroom and froze. The smell hit her as soon as she walked in—Hailee had been around babies multiple times, often babysitting neighbors’ kids to get some cash when she was a teenager. The blinds were half-open, sheets stripped, mattress darkened in a wide, unmistakable stain that hadn’t quite dried yet. Her mother—her irresponsible, dramatic, always-late mother—had wet the bed. And she didn’t even try to clean up after herself. Hailee knew Evelyn was not someone to be trusted, but it appeared she wasn’t even mature enough to make it to the potty. It didn’t take long for Hailee to find her mother’s soaked pajamas, the sheets she had left under the bed, and prove that this had not been a one-off. How could she respect an adult woman who didn’t behave like one? There was nothing about Evelyn that warranted the title of mother. Hailee felt disgusted, angry, but there was something else there…pity? After Dad’s death, Evelyn had not been able to cope with life. Maybe she was never ready to be a mother…or an adult. Then it hit her. No one gave Evelyn any structure or guidance—she was probably in desperate need of care. Her mother might be almost forty, but she wasn’t ready to be an adult. She had proved it over and over again—always being late, always making a fool of herself, always acting like a toddler in need of consequences. Hailee was determined to help her mother before it was too late. And she knew exactly what to do with her. Evelyn wouldn’t like it. She would fight back and complain, but Hailee knew she could take it. She knew she needed to be strong for her mother—to become the head of the house. As for Evelyn, well, she needed to learn…all over again. Chapter Two Another Accident Evelyn sat at her desk in the faculty office, staring at the stack of ungraded essays without really seeing them. She shifted in her chair, thinking about her morning. Three times this week. Three times she'd woken up soaked like some helpless child. She pressed her thighs together under the desk, telling herself it was just stress. Or the wine. Or turning forty soon. Anything but the truth that scared her most: she was losing control of her own body. Her phone buzzed—a text from Brenda: Don't forget Vegas bitch! Planning over lunch? Need details on that hot student of yours. Evelyn forced a smile—she was dreading this Vegas trip. What if she woke up wet in the same room she would share with her best friend? She could tell her and be honest about her problem, but Brenda never felt like a friend to whom she could tell things…she was more of an escape. Someone who would talk about getting wasted every weekend, and wouldn’t judge Evelyn for drinking so much, or lusting over her young and handsome student. She had considered a therapist, but hadn’t really tried it yet. She looked at her phone again; she had a lecture in twenty minutes: Introduction to the Beat Generation. It was her favorite topic to teach—her heroes. Not a single one of them lived by society’s expectations, just like her. She knew she was smart, independent, and strong. Though, since her bedwetting started, she felt less like a woman and more like a little girl who couldn’t stop wetting her bed. As if on cue, she felt pressure building in her lower abdomen. She had already been to the bathroom three times that morning and had been avoiding water and coffee for weeks. Why was she so desperate to pee all the time? Resigned, she went to the loo once more. After her fourth visit to the bathroom in a span of three hours, she found herself in a classroom, waiting for her students. Class was about to begin when they started walking in one by one. Every year, she was getting fewer and fewer people interested in what she had to say. Less than twenty this semester, a few of them already half-asleep as they sat. "Okay, everyone," she said, keeping her voice steady. “Today, we're talking about the spontaneity in On the Road. Kerouac didn’t believe in editing. It was all about writing what was in his heart and mind at the moment…" The class went on. She even showed a copy of the book she had—it had belonged to Bukowski himself, a spiritual member of the Beat Generation. But as she talked about why it was one of her most prized possessions, she felt a familiar pressure building up again. Not now, she told herself, I literally just went to the bathroom. She paced a little to keep her mind off the growing ache. Thighs pressed tight. She stopped behind the podium, gripping the edges. A warm trickle escaped—just a drop, but she felt it soak into her panties. Her heart raced. She clenched harder, forcing a smile as she pointed to the screen. "See here? Sal Paradise hits the road because he's restless. No plan. Just goes…” A student asked a question. She answered on autopilot, shifting her weight. The pressure kept building. She could feel her muscles tiring. Ten more minutes—she could hold it. The class dragged. By the time she wrapped up—"Read chapters three and four for Wednesday"—most students were packing up. But Michael stayed. He was twenty-one, with dark, messy hair, and built like he spent most of his free time at the gym—not something she had expected from someone interested in English literature. He approached her desk with that charming grin of his that made her knees weak. “That was a good lecture, Professor," he said, leaning on the edge of her desk—close enough, so she could smell his cologne. "Never been much of a fan of Kerouac or Ginsberg. Their style and politics were always so…self-indulgent. But without them, we wouldn’t have gotten Bukowski.” “Self-indulgent?” she asked with a scoff. “They were quite brave for their time.” Michael chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t mind debating that over a cup of coffee one of these days.” Evelyn's face heated. She crossed her legs under the desk, clenching desperately. Talking to him always got her worked up—horny, if she was honest. And right now, that made everything worse. Another small leak warmed her crotch. She bit her lip. "Yeah, that’d be nice," she managed. "You let me know when you’re free.” "I’m free right now. What about you?” Her bladder spasmed. A bigger spurt this time—she felt it spread, soaking the cotton between her legs. Warm, then cooling fast. She gripped the desk harder. "I—uh—maybe on the weekend." Her voice cracked a little. She stood up too fast, gathering papers. "Sorry, Michael, I have to run. There’s something I must do…" He looked a bit surprised but nodded. "Sure. See you around.” She practically bolted for the door, thighs squeezed together with every step. The way to the faculty restroom felt endless—two doors down still. She finally made it, pushed inside, locked the nearest stall, and yanked down her slacks and panties. She sat down and let go. What was left exploded in a waterfall that kept going for almost a minute, and when it was over, she finally looked down at her wet panties. The crotch was dark and felt cold. She'd leaked more than she had thought. Not a full-on accident, but enough to leave a damp patch if anyone looked closely. She grabbed toilet paper and tried to dry herself. Her hands shook. Forty years old—a professor—hiding in a bathroom stall, wiping piss from her underwear like a kid who didn’t make it to the potty on their first day at kindergarten. She felt tears forming in her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? She dried as best she could, pulled everything back up, and flushed. The wet fabric chafed as she walked to the parking lot. Cold now, sticky. Brenda was waiting by her car, as usual, smoking a cigarette. "There you are!" Brenda called, grinning. Fifty years old, chubby—though one could tell she had been quite pretty when she was younger. A bit blotchy due to all the partying and drinking. ”Hottest prof on campus. After me, of course. How was class? Was Michael there?” Evelyn forced a laugh, leaning against her car to cover her accident. “It was fine. He's...yeah, hot. We talked about Kerouac. He might not be…you know…my type.” "Kerouac, huh? Bet you'd like to go on the road with him." She stepped closer, voice dropping to that trashy talk of hers. "Vegas is booked. Your birthday weekend, bitch. We're getting wasted, dancing, and—fingers crossed—laid. Multiple times. With multiple young men!” Evelyn felt another twinge in her bladder. Again? She had just wet herself, and she needed to go again. This couldn’t be happening. "Sounds perfect," Evelyn forced herself to say, shifting her weight. "Hailee doesn't know yet. Have to tell her tonight.” "Bring her if you want. Men like the whole mother-daughter thing… I’ve been trying to convince Sabrina about it. But she’s a party pooper. She would suck all the fun out of it.” Evelyn glared at her—she knew Sabrina, and the girl would never do anything as trashy as going to Vegas and picking up men with her mother. “…Though, thinking about it. Hailee’s also too serious for Vegas. I guess it’s just you and me, bitch…” Then, playful as always, Brenda reached out and smacked Evelyn's ass—hard enough to sting. The jolt was too much. Evelyn gasped as a hot gush flooded her panties. Not a leak this time—a real spurt, soaking through the fabric she'd just dried. Warm liquid trickled down her inner thigh before she clamped down. Brenda froze, hand still on Evelyn’s butt. "Whoa, you okay? It felt... wet.” Evelyn's face burned—she had stopped the flow, but if it weren’t ‘cause her pants were black, Brenda wouldn’t notice it quite easily. "What? No, just—sweaty. It’s been quite hot lately.” Brenda looked at her as if suspecting Evelyn was lying, but said nothing about it. Not to her, at least. "Sure. Text me later. Love you, bitch.” "Yeah, love you." Evelyn slid into her car fast, slamming the door. She started the engine, hands shaking. Twenty minutes to get home. She had wet herself, but if she could make it home, she’d finish her business in the toilet and take a nice, long, hot shower. Yeah, that was the plan; she wasn't some toddler who couldn't make it to the potty. The first few minutes were okay. She gripped the wheel, focusing on the road, clenching every muscle down there. But at the first red light, a sharp wave hit. She squirmed in her seat, rocking her hips a little, one hand pressing between her legs without thinking. "Come on, hold it," she whispered to herself. A hot spurt escaped anyway, warming her crotch before soaking in. More leaks followed at every bump, the seat growing squishy and warm under her ass. She moaned out loud, tears starting in her eyes. "Please, not again... I'm a grown woman…" Then it happened. A big spasm—she felt her muscles give way. The first real flood came hot and fast, gushing into her panties with no control. "Oh God, no!" she cried, voice breaking into a sob. Warm pee poured out of her, soaking everything—panties, slacks, running down her thighs into her shoes. She tried to clench, but it was useless; another wave followed, then another, like her body had decided potty time was now and she didn't get a say. Evelyn pulled over a block from home, crying. Her clothes cling to her, shoes squishing. Thirty-nine years old, a professor—and she'd completely wet herself like a toddler. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi guys, here you can find my latest stories. Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections You can also buy them on Kindle or get them for free through Kindle Unlimited: Camille's Diapered Stepmother: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F7S44THM Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5 Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ

Hi everyone! This is my first story I've ever written on this platform. Thanks for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy it. Part Three coming soon! Connor's Unfortunate Lesson: Part One After years of Connor Jackson running his family ragged – driving them to the brink of insanity with his rude, disrespectful, and sometimes criminal behavior – his stepmother has finally decided she’s had enough. The last straw had been when he’d been caught breaking into parked cars in the middle of the night in an effort to score some quick cash. Michelle, who had been in his life for the better part of the last ten years, was both infuriated and devastated when she received that fateful call from the police. Instead of rushing down to the station to bail him out once again, she opted to leave him there for the remainder of the weekend while she finished putting her plan into action. When the following Monday arrived, the first thing she did was set up a meeting with her stepson’s school. Of course, their first inclination was to expel Connor for violating their code of ethics for the umpteenth time. However, she was eventually able to convince the board to allow her to unenroll him so that she could homeschool him herself. It had been a small victory, but at least this way she figured he might still have a chance to earn his GED and attend a good university. One day. At first, Connor had been thrilled with the latest development. He was convinced he’d gotten off scott-free. That is, until they arrived back at the house. After having spent the last several nights in jail, all he’d wanted to do was hole-up in his room and get some much needed sleep. Because as far as he was convinced, all he’d done was earn himself an early summer vacation that promised to be filled with girls, weed, and however much booze he could get his hands on. After his latest brush with the law, he was pretty sure that he’d just cemented his status as the resident “big man on campus”. Although fairly short for his age, he often found himself toeing the edge of being a bully. When he spoke, people listened. And if they knew what was best for them, they did as they were told. Otherwise he made sure they knew there would be consequences. He’d once dumped a kid in a garbage can after he refused to pony up his lunch money on Pizza Day. One could even argue that Connor was proud of his reputation. His male classmates respected him. Possibly envied him. And as for the girls, well, he had yet to meet one who didn’t want him. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard the word “no” – from anybody. Including his parents. Especially his parents. Even when his father had been alive, the man had been known for giving in to his spoiled son’s every whim. Although there were times when Michelle had warned him that he might be going too far, her protests had often fallen on deaf ears. Connor’s father was adamant that he was just trying to give his son the type of childhood he’d never had. Unfortunately for all of them, his attempts had only resulted in him raising a child who believed he didn’t have to play by the same rules as everyone else. But those days were over. After his last arrest, his stepmother knew it was time to put her foot down. Big changes were coming to the Jackson household. A fact Connor realized the moment he walked through his front door. Instead of being allowed to make a beeline for his bedroom, he’d found himself being hauled off to the living room for a special kind of punishment. The kind that involved a long overdue trip over his stepmother’s knee where she proceeded to blister his ass with a sturdy, wooden hair brush. It had been the first time he’d been spanked since childhood. And it was even worse than he could’ve ever imagined. The shame and humiliation had been overwhelming – and he hadn’t been alone for it either. His two stepsisters, Daphne and Delilah, had been in there to witness the entire spectacle. They’d heard every pained gasp and cry, had watched as he flailed and thrashed helplessly while their mother busied herself expertly reddening every inch of his bare bottom until he could no longer contain his sobs. But the girls harbored no sympathy for him. Instead they’d simply laughed, pleased to see their troublesome brother reduced to such an infantile state. In their minds, this was what he deserved after having spent the last few years enduring his would-be reign of terror. When the spanking finally ended, it was then that Michelle dropped what had felt akin to that of a verbal atomic bomb. In that very moment, right there in the living room, his stepmother declared that, moving forward, Connor’s life was about to change drastically. In order to save him, he would be made to start over. Take things back to the basics. And, hopefully, unlearn every single delinquent behavior that, up until now, had kept him off the straight and narrow. Until then, he’d lose all perks and privileges that came with being an adult. No friends. No phones. No electronics. A strict bedtime. And, what’s more, the bathroom was officially off limits. Chest still heaving, a shocked Connor had opened his mouth to protest, only to clam up when one of his sisters was ordered to bring out the urine stained sheets he’d hastily crumpled and shoved under his bed several nights ago. While it wasn’t the first time he had accidentally soiled himself in his sleep, he thought he’d actually been hiding pretty well. He had no idea that his family was well aware of his little secret. They’d just been waiting for the right time to confront him. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” Michelle mused, her nose crinkling as she’s hit with the stale whiff of the young man’s shame. “I mean, honestly. Just be grateful that your father isn’t here to witness what a disappointment his pride and joy has become.” “You’re insane!” He’d hissed, his face red as he began to rub his still smarting backside. “Dad would never let you treat me like this. My inheritance is supposed to come through virtually any day now, and when it does, I’m throwing you, and your girls out on your asses the first chance I get!” Connor’s sniffles had only grown more pronounced when his threat was rewarded with a resounding combination of snorts and laughter from the three remaining members of his family – which was confusing. Because in his mind there had been nothing funny about any of this. “I’m sorry, Connor. And girls, stop. This is serious.” Even so, Michelle had continued to giggle long after the bulk of her laughter subsided. “Because what your brother doesn’t understand is that, while yes he was promised an inheritance, he’s also going to have a hard time collecting it if he isn’t deemed competent to do so.” Tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder, she’d given her daughters a knowing look. “As your guardian, I have a final say as to whether or not you’re ready to receive access to the trust funds you father left behind – which is true for all three of you.” “But I’m–!” “Yes, you may have just turned eighteen, young man.” His stepmother scoffed before rising to her feet. “But that doesn’t mean you’re ready. You have no plans for the future. No desire to go to college or find a trade school. In fact, the only thing you’re able to boast about is your growing rap sheet.” She adjusts her blouse, subtly highlighting her shapely figure. “Whereas your sisters are set to attend the best university in the state on full scholarship, starting this fall.” “I don’t need school, Michelle. I’ve got money. A lot of money.” Connor had snarled before attempting to snatch the sheets out of his sister’s grasp. He failed, of course. “Now, give me my shit and I’ll let you keep the Range Rover my Dad bought you. And when I sell the house, I might even cut you a piece of the profits. Assuming I can bring myself to forget about the way you’ve all treated me just now.” And that’s when Michelle began to move. “Let’s face it, Connor.” He’d stepped back as she slowly invaded his space, effectively towering over him, making him feel smaller than he’d liked to admit. “You’re nothing but a little boy who thinks he’s doing a good job of pretending to be a grown-up.” Cupping his chin, she’d then forced him to meet her stern, blue-eyed gaze. “We – your father and I – failed you the first time around. Which is why I feel like I’m partly to blame for what you’ve become. But I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately, and even had a chance to consult with a leading therapist who specializes in helping troubled young men find their way back on the straight and narrow. His best-selling novel, Rebirth: The Road Back to Babyhood, was quite the page-turner.” Feeling like the walls were closing in on him, Connor could only summon a weak cry as the weight of his circumstances became overwhelming. “You can’t do this…I…” And that’s when a fresh wave of tears had begun to fall. “I’ll call the police. I…I…” He’d trailed off upon noticing Michelle’s smug grin. “Oh, Connie.” She’d eventually released his chin in order to mockingly ruffle his chocolate brown locks. “It’s already been done. This summer, your sisters and I are going to help give you the do-over you so desperately need. We’re going to break that stubborn little spirit so you can grow up to be the kind of upstanding young man who wants to make his family proud.” Leaning down, she’d pressed a chaste kiss along his furrowed brow. He honestly couldn’t believe that these were his only options. Either refuse and be thrown out on the street, penniless and without a place to call home. Or stay and allow himself to be subjected to whatever twisted plans his stepmother had in store for him. “Please…” He’d tried once more, now feeling more helpless than he’d ever had in his life. “I can–I can change.” God, he’d hated how his voice shook with every word he spoke. “Oh, we know you can, baby boy. And you will.” His stepmother assured him as she’d reached for his hand, dragging him down the hall in the direction of one of the house’s many guestrooms. “Like it or not, your new life starts today. Now, come on girls!” She’d called out as her grip tightened, forcing Conner to scramble to keep up with her long stride. “It’s time to show your baby brother his brand new room!” END Connor's Unfortunate Lesson: Part Two - (Takes place three months after the events in Part One) At eighteen-years-old, Connor was desperate to keep his neighbors and the surrounding community from finding out about his shameful little secret. You see, while most of his classmates were finishing up the school year and preparing to start college in the fall, he’d been busy with something else. And it had everything to do with the diaper he was currently hiding underneath his gray sweatpants. For the last few months, the toilet had been off limits to him. All thanks to the bad behaviour that had landed him in jail around that same time. Well, that and the fact that he still had a tendency to wet the bed at night. Unfortunately for him, being denied access to the bathroom like any other self-sufficient adult had severely affected his ability to control his bladder. If he was awake, he usually had a 50/50 chance that his body might alert him that he needed to pee. Or mess. From there, he only had a matter of minutes before he was forced to do his business wherever he stood. Or squatted for that matter. And if he was asleep, then all bets were off. Having anticipated this development, his stepmother now mandated that he be kept in diapers full-time. Connor would have to earn the right to use the potty like a big boy again, whenever Michelle believed he was ready. Wait. Not Michelle. Mommy. Of course, what was even more embarrassing was that he wasn’t even allowed to change his own diaper. Depending on how his behavior had been that week, he might not even be allowed to ask for one. If he’d gotten himself in trouble, he would often have to wait until his Mommy or one of his sisters decided to check to see if he’d soiled himself. It was utterly humiliating. These days, Connor was no longer allowed the privilege of modesty. Michelle bathed him every night and typically changed his dirty diapers throughout the day. And when she was too busy, or couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, the demeaning task fell to one of his twin sisters: Daphne or Delilah. If he were being honest, he regretted having mistreated both girls over the years. Because now they took every opportunity they could to inflict their revenge. While they were of no relation to him, they were the spitting image of their beautiful mother. And what made it even worse is that they were only older than him by a handful of months. Sometimes Daphne wasn’t so bad. While he wouldn’t exactly say she was nice, he could usually deal with the way she teased and babied him. But Delilah…she could be downright cruel. There were times she went out of her way to humiliate him, and she often wouldn’t stop until he was reduced to tears. Thankfully, no one from the outside world seemed to be aware of Connor’s new predicament. Something for which the young man was grateful. But deep down, there was a part of him that knew this wouldn’t last forever. Eventually the other shoe would have to drop. Which could hopefully mean freedom from his infantile prison and access to the trust fund he was owed. Or a lifetime of embarrassment if anyone in town ever discovered his new, baby-powder scented secret. And thanks to the calculated efforts of his Mommy, it was quickly looking like the young man’s life was swiftly careening towards the latter. Whether he had a say in it or not. __________ A Few Days Later... “Michelle…” Connor whines softly as he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. “Please don’t make me do this.” Heaving a weary sigh, his stepmother brushes past him to check on the quiche she had baking away in the oven. “For the last time, Conrad, I’m not making you do anything you haven’t already been doing for the last few months. And you know that’s not my name.” Realizing her dish still needed a few more minutes, she closes the door before turning to face the young man currently occupying her kitchen. “Who am I to you?” “Mommy. I–I’m sorry, Mommy.” He quickly amends, hoping to avoid wracking up any additional punishments. His bottom still ached from the spanking he’d received earlier that morning. “That’s better. Now, we’re having company over and that’s final. And you will be on your best behavior while they’re here, or there will be consequences. Is that understood?” She arches one perfect blonde brow for emphasis. “But can I…can I…” He stammers, wishing he could simply get the words out. “Can you…what?” An impatient Michelle crosses her arms over her ample bosom. “Spit it out or stop wasting my time.” “Can’t I please at least put on my underwear? Real underwear? I won’t have an accident, I swear!” Unfortunately, Connor was pretty sure he’d known the answer before he’d even summoned up the courage to ask the question. But when he’d found out the identity of the visitors she’d invited, it was worth a try. “Oh, Connie…” Her derisive snort seems to echo throughout the fairly large room. “Always so convinced you’re ready to be a big boy when you’re not.” “But I don’t want them to see me in a–” He cuts off mid-sentence as he feels his cheeks heat. “I don’t want them to know that I have to wear…this.” He finishes, apprehensively tugging at the waistband of his pants. “Well, why not?” Michelle glides over the fridge to take stock of treats she’d prepared for the afternoon’s festivities. “It’s for your protection, after all. Do you remember what happened the last time you went without your…protection?” The mocking lilt in her voice has him feeling about two feet tall. “Yes.” He mumbles, his gaze dropping to his socked feet. “And?” “I fell asleep and had an accident on the couch.” “Hmm.” Closing the door, she moves to take a seat at the kitchen table. Resting her chin on her palm, she makes it clear that he now has her full attention. “And what did Mommy do? What did she have to do when you had your little accident?” “You…you spanked me. With my paddle.” Connor swallows hard, his bruised bottom throbbing at the memory. “And then you put me in triple diapers for the rest of the week.” “And tell me – why did I do that, Connor?” His fists clench uselessly at his sides. “Be–because I took off my diaper.” The sound of Michelle’s tinkling laughter is enough to set his teeth on edge. “And is that something you’re allowed to do? Are you allowed to take your diaper off? Ever?” “No, Mommy.” “That’s right.” His stepmother then leans across the table to grab her cellphone – a right he’d been denied for months. Unless he managed to catch a bit of the evening news on television, he had no idea about what was going on in the world. “Frankly, I’m surprised you even had the gall to ask after the way I had to blister that naughty butt of yours for cursing at your sister.” Connor doesn’t bother to hide his grimace. He’d gotten a spanking this morning because of a stunt Delilah had pulled. How he hated her and her stupid ribbons. “Why don’t you tell me what’s got you so worried, little Connie?” Her feigned interest has her continuing to stare down at her phone. “I thought you’d be excited to have some company after all this time. You used to love Mr. and Mrs. Peters. Now out of options, the diapered young man visibly deflates. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to find out about his ongoing punishment. His reputation would be ruined. And he was pretty sure that he’d never be able to land another date for the rest of his life. “May I please be allowed to stay in my room?” “Absolutely not.” Pursing her perfectly painted lips, she sets down her device before beckoning him forward. Once he’s standing in front of her, Michelle lowers his pants to check the padding of his diaper. “You’re not that wet.” She gives his crotch an affectionate squeeze before turning him around to make sure he wasn’t hiding any other surprises. “And thank goodness you’re not poopy.” Pulling his sweats back up, she briefly goes quiet. A few moments pass before she finally speaks again. “Tell you what…” She pulls him closer, until he’s now perched on her knee. “Since you’re so worried about them finding out your secret, how about we change your diaper right before they get here? And then we’ll put you in your favorite onesie – the one with the easy snaps.” “Really?” He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but at the same time…he really was desperate. “And then we’ll put you back in your sweatpants, that way the Peters won’t notice a thing. After all, your diapers only swell up when they’re used, right?” “R–right…” “Now listen closely,” She boops his nose before continuing. “Because this is your one chance to show Mommy you just might have what it takes to start earning back all those big boy privileges you’ve been missing out on lately. When you feel like you need to go potty you come and tell me or your sisters right away. One of us will take you to the bathroom and help you with your diaper so no one has to find out. Deal?” Connor eagerly nods his head as relief blooms in his chest. “Thank you, Mommy. I won’t let you down – I promise!” Scrambling off his stepmother’s lap, he wanders off towards the living room to make sure it’s devoid of anything that could give away his secret. “You had better not, baby boy.” Michelle responds, as a cruel smile ghosts its way across her lips. “Even though something tells me that you already did…” ____ Four Hours Later... After what seemed like hours, the chime of the doorbell finally signals the arrival of their long awaited guests. Connor had been on pins and needles all morning, wishing that he could get the entire spectacle over with and move on with his day. He checks in the mirror one last time, silently reassuring himself that his so far still-dry diaper wasn’t readily visible beneath his gray sweatpants. As promised, his stepmother had dressed him in his least conspicuous onesie – the one with the easy snaps. Now, all he had to do was be polite and control his bladder long enough for someone to take him to the bathroom. It was pretty simple when he thought about it. “Connor!” Michelle bellows from down the hall. “Come say hello to our guests!” Resigning himself to his fate, he forces himself to make the trek from his room to the sitting area. Surely exchanging pleasantries with their neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Peters, wouldn’t be too painful. Hell, they might even forget he was there after the first few minutes. Rounding the corner, his well-rehearsed greeting swiftly dies on his lips. Because standing in the living room was the last person he could possibly want to see. It was his classmate Mallory, the nerdy girl who always volunteered to do his homework, accompanied by her mother. “As you can see, Connie.” His Mommy grins at him while handing off their jackets to his sister, Daphne. “There appears to have been a slight change of plans. Mr. Peters couldn’t make it, so Mallory agreed to tag along instead. Isn’t that nice?” Conner remains too stunned and nervous to speak as he watches Michelle eagerly direct their company to the delicious spread she’s laid out for lunch. Alarm bells were sounding in his head, demanding that he run and hide immediately. “Young man, you’re being rude.” His Mother scolds, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. “And you know I don’t tolerate rudeness in this household.” The unspoken threat in her voice hangs heavily between them. And that’s when it clicks that if he was going to survive the afternoon unscathed, he’d have to be very, very careful. All it would take is him breaking just one of her overbearingly meticulous rules for his secret to be exposed. “I–I’m so sorry.” Now that he’s got his feet moving again, he summons the wherewithal to shake their hands. First Mallory’s, and then her Mother’s. “I was surprised to see you, is all. Your daughter is the first person I’ve seen from school in quite awhile.” Instead of immediately responding, the older woman eyes him warily. “I heard you were arrested. Again. Makes sense that school finally had enough of you.” “Mom!” Mallory hisses, clearly embarrassed by her Mother’s unsolicited rebuke. “It’s okay…” Michelle assures them both before pouring Mrs. Peters a healthy glass of chilled Chardonnay. “While it’s true that dear Connie had yet another run-in with the law, after meeting with the school board, they were gracious enough to allow me to withdraw him instead of following through with their proposed expulsion. My baby boy got lucky.” She reaches over to affectionately ruffle his brown locks. “I can only assume you’ve taken up homeschooling him?” Mrs. Peters sniffs primly before taking a sip of her wine. “Assuming he’s willing to follow instructions.” “Oh, I can assure you that he’s been receiving quite the re-education.” She passes Connor a large bottle of water before instructing him to drink. “Remember, the doctor told you that you need to stay hydrated. You’ll need to finish that before you’re allowed a snack.” Connor feels his stomach drop as he accepts the offering. Because while he was thirsty, he knew that if he did as he was told he’d need to use the potty in no time. But that was okay, he told himself. Because his Mommy had promised to take him to the bathroom as soon as he asked. With that in mind, he finally allows himself to relax, if only just a little. While the two adults chatted idly, he listens to Mallory catch-him-up on the happenings he’d missed at school. From the football team’s record breaking season, to who was crowned this year’s prom king and queen, no topic off limits. Talking with her makes him feel good. Normal. Especially when it had been ages since he’d interacted with anyone outside of his mother and sisters. They were nearly an hour into the visit when he felt his bladder begin to show signs of protest. While he had yet to finish the entire bottle, he was close. But his body didn’t care. He knew he needed the bathroom. Now. “Um, excuse me? M-mom?” He mutters, trying to be as polite as possible with his interruption. Clearly annoyed by the prospect of being unable to finish her thougth, she turns to her stepson in a huff. “The adults are speaking, young man.” “I know, but…” Conner lowers his voice several octaves. “I need to go…to…” He trails off, assuming she’d catch the hint. However, he should’ve known that he wasn’t destined to be that lucky. “Go? Go where?” “The bathroom.” He mouths, while attempting to obscure his face from view. “Right now.” “Well, Mrs. Peters and I are in the middle of a conversation. You’re just going to have to wait like any other big boy your age.” With that, she effectively dismisses him, leaving him alone to panic. “Connor…is everything okay?” A confused Mallory asks. “Everything is fine.” He grunts, willing himself to take a deep breath as the pressure continues to grow. “Mom, please!” “For the last time, Connor!” She snaps, snatching his nearly empty water bottle and slamming it on the coffee table. How dare you keep interrupting me like this? I don’t have time to take you to the bathroom right now, so you’re either going to have to wait or go find one of your sisters. Am I being clear enough for you?” “Yes, ma’am.” He grumbles before anxiously rising from the couch, leaving his Mother’s dumbfounded guests behind in favor of tracking down one of his sisters before it was too late. Of course, that quest soon proves to be a colossal waste of time. Because while he manages to catch Delilah on her way out the door, she refuses to be of any help. She even takes it upon herself to loudly announce to anyone that was in earshot that she didn’t have the energy to deal with “pissy little diaper boys” today. Reeling from shame and praying that Mallory and her mother hadn’t overheard her rude declaration, he’d then gone about looking for Daphne. Which was how he’d ultimately found himself back in the living room. Following the sound of her voice, Connor and his now screaming bladder had scarcely set foot on the freshly steamed carpet before he realized just how dire his ordeal had become. “What’s up with all the yelling, Connie?” His sister mocks, adjusting her high ponytail. “You’re so needy all the time, it’s honestly starting to become a little embarrassing.” “Please.” He begs, feeling himself beginning to sweat as he continues to clench his thighs together. “I have to…I need…oh no…” Clutching the wall, he utters a pained groan as he feels the first hot stream of piss escape into his diaper. “Uh oh.” His sister coos, making light of his shame. Meanwhile, his unexpecting audience watches in stunned silence as the eighteen-year-old man slowly loses his battle with control. His knees buckle as he continues to soak his diaper with urine, forcing it to expand massively beneath the fabric of his sweat pants. “Jesus Christ!” Comes Mrs. Peters’ shocked gasp. “Did he just…wet himself? Look at that spot on his pants!” Sure enough, he had leaked. He didn’t have to check because he could already feel it. Michelle feigns surprise, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to convey her embarrassment. “Oh my goodness!” She cries before shifting her attention to their guests. “Janet. Mallory. I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’m afraid my little boy isn’t fully toilet trained yet.” “I can see that.” Mrs. Peters replies, her face aghast. “My…what a mess.” “I’m afraid raising him lately has been quite the challenge.” Michelle opines, reaching over to grasp her supportive hand. “It’s been hard, keeping Connie’s little secret like this. But it’s also necessary – the diapers, I mean. The poor boy has lost all control.” Their gaze strays towards a betrayed Connor, watching as he sinks to the ground. His body is wracked with heartbroken sobs. “I told you I had to potty!” He wails, falling on his back and kicking his feet. “Mommy, I told you!” “Does he always throw tantrums like this?” The older woman asks, her lip curling in disgust as she witnesses the young man behave worse than a toddler. “Sometimes.” His stepmother confesses with a sigh. “I thought we’d gotten a handle on it. But today’s been a big one for Connie. I imagine he’s a little overstimulated, but you can be sure it will be addressed before I put him down for bed tonight. Once she feels as though he’s suffered enough, Michelle finally gives Daphne the order to take him back to his bedroom for a much needed diaper change. Unfortunately, it does little to soothe the man’s severely wounded ego. But when his sister picks him up and sets him on his feet, he doesn’t protest. Lips trembling, a soggy and defeated Connor dutifully follows her to his bedroom – otherwise known as his nursery. Decorated in a symphony of pinks and purples, it had everything one might need to care for a precious little baby. Like him. “Aww, c’mon Connie. Don’t cry.” His sister coos once she reaches his adult-sized changing table, clearly not in the mood to deal with his theatrics. “You should’ve known this was gonna happen. You haven’t been able to stay dry on your own for months.” “But I told Mommy I had to go potty.” The young man pouts. “I told her and she didn’t listen. Instead she made me go ask Deliliah.” “That’s because Mommy was busy talking to the grown-ups. Any other boy your age would’ve been able to hold it much longer than you did back there. All you did was prove what the rest of us already knew – that you’re just not ready to be an adult. Now hop up. I’ve got shit I need to do.” “No.” Comes his defiant grunt. “I can change myself.” “No, you can’t. You know the rules.” One strong hand shoots out, taking a hold of his wrist and dragging him closer. “Now, I’m going to give you one last change to climb up here before I decide to do something to really embarrass you in front of Mrs. Peters and Mallory. Is that what you want?” As upset as he was, Connor is also keenly aware that his sister isn’t joking. Diaper changes were already a humiliating affair – both his sisters and stepmother made sure of that. What with all the constant teasing and taunting as they took their time wiping him clean of whatever mess he’d made in that moment. And to make matters worse, sometimes his little soldier tended to have a mind of its own, often creating the illusion that he was enjoying his mistreatment. Still holding back tears, he finally allows Daphne to help him onto the table. Once seated, she makes quick work of removing his sweats before beginning to undo the snaps of his now damp onesie. “Woah, baby boy.” She chuckles when she finally gets a good look at his thoroughly soaked diaper, taking a moment to pat his padded crotch. “Looks like somebody did a big wee-wee, huh?” Connor feels his face go scarlett as he forces himself to look away. He couldn’t believe this was his reality right now, especially when they had company just down the hall. And to make matters worse, his sister had left his door wide open, leaving him and his soiled diaper in plain view of whoever might be walking by. “Let’s get you into a dry diaper.” Daphne murmurs, her voice containing a hint of both sweetness and mockery. “Then you’ll be all better. Well, until Mommy decides if she’s going to spank your little bum bum for throwing such a big tantrum.” She doesn’t bother trying to mask her giggle as she shoves his favorite pink pacifier between his frowning lips. Then she goes to remove his onesie, lifting it over his head before moving on to his diapered-prison. Now completely naked, he can’t help the shiver that courses through him as the cool air makes contact with his bare skin. But he knows better than to try to hide or cover himself. According to Michelle, babies didn’t concern themselves with trivial things like modesty. “And there’s Mr. PeePee.” She takes a moment to study his tiny member, which is something she did fairly often. “Still tiny I see.” She muses as she reaches for a wipe. “But I like this little purple ribbon he’s wearing. It makes him look extra cute!” The young man can’t help but flush when he feels his penis twitch of its own accord, as if enjoying the praise. “Did Mommy do that for you? Or was it Delilah?” He struggles not to jump when the cold wipe finally makes contact with his heated flesh, starting with his thighs before slowly and meticulously making its way toward his hairless balls, sitting on prominent display like two plump little peaches. “Delilah.” He whimpers through his binky, willing himself to remain flaccid as he’s forced to remember how she’d taken her time dressing up his little member with the help of one of her many colorful ribbons. In an unusual act of defiance, he’d actually balked when she’d initially tried to put it on him this morning. Then he’d made the mistake of telling her to “go fuck herself”, which in turn had sent her off to find Michelle while he was mid-change. Both women had returned moments later, with his sister sporting a knowing smirk and his Mommy wielding his new wooden paddle. “Mmm…” Daphne’s ministrations then move to his increasingly sensitive member. Pausing to grab a fresh wipe, she begins gliding it up and down his unimpressive cock. Squeezing his eyes shut, Connor is just about to beg her to go faster when he’s interrupted by the sound of someone new entering the room. “I–I’m sorry.” The quiet voice squeaks. “I guess I must’ve gotten lost on the way to the bathroom.” It was Mallory. She was here. Now. In his bedroom. Watching him while he lay on his back, naked and exposed, with his legs in the air while he finished getting his diaper changed. Oh God, this couldn’t be happening. “It’s no problem – little Connie and I are almost done.” His sister chirps. “Aren’t we, baby boy?” Connor refuses to answer, preferring to let the silence stretch between them as shame and embarrassment seep out of every pore of his scrawny body. Meanwhile, Daphne continues to absentmindedly stroke him while engaging with their new guest. “Sooo…” Mallory drags out the word as she takes a tentative step closer, allowing herself a better look at her former classmate’s predicament. “Is this why you left school, Connor? I mean, everyone was talking about how your Mom kept them from kicking you out by homeschooling you, or whatever. But I’m pretty sure nobody would believe this…” “It’s a long story.” Daphne interjects on his behalf, before expertly gripping his ankles and lifting his bottom in the air, showing off the remnants of his morning discipline. “But suffice to say that this is his new life now. In fact, it has been for months.” She gently lowers him back onto the table, making a point to splay his quivering thighs even wider than what was really necessary. “Now that his secret’s out, he can focus on what’s really important. And that’s becoming a better, more humble, version of himself.” Her long fingers go to tickle the soft skin of his belly. “Isn’t that right?” “I…should probably leave you guys to it.” “Oh, it’s okay – seriously.” His sister responds dismissively as he sucks harder on his pacifier. “Privacy is a thing of the past for this guy.” She reaches down to grab a tube of cream and gives it a hearty squeeze, using her hand to thickly coat his butt, balls, and dick with the stinky paste. “Sorry about the smell, Mal. But the last time this baby ended up with a rash he was super fussy.” “I’ll bet.” Mallory murmurs, more to herself than anyone else, as she continues to process everything she’s seeing and hearing. “So does he use his diapers all the time?” And now that they were talking about him as if he wasn’t there, Connor wanted nothing more than for a sinkhole to open up in the floor of his nursery and swallow him whole. “All day, every day.” Daphne confirms. “I’m afraid the potty is off limits to Connie until he can be trusted not to have an accident or make a mess. He never was very good at aiming.” Her tone takes a conspiratorial turn. “Or at wiping his own butt for that matter. I’m sure you can only imagine the constant state of his underwear.” “So he…uses them too? Often?” “He does. These days it seems like he’s constantly wet. But sometimes he has a little trouble going number two.” She shrugs, wiping her hands on a nearby towel. Funny enough, she and Connor were both aware that she was dragging out this whole diaper change business. But there was nothing he could do about it. “But Mom keeps a special stash of suppositories on hand which always seem to work wonders on his stubborn tummy.” Nodding in understanding, Mallory allows herself to take a few more tentative steps into the nursery. She makes note of the crib and playpen, as well as the various blocks and toys that littered the floor. Later she would be forced to admit to her diary that she had found the entire scene to be utterly fascinating. “Are you the only one who—who changes him?” “Eh, my sister and I take turns. And my Mom helps out a lot too.” Hands dry, she reaches for the baby powder, liberally applying it to his crotch and bottom. “She does most of it, actually. Mom is usually the one to feed him and bathe him and stuff. And baby Connie here is thankful for that, otherwise he gets his bottom spanked. Like he did this morning.” At long last, Daphne finally grabs a diaper and places it under him. Meanwhile, Connor continues helplessly nursing his binky, all the while willing his unruly member to stand down. But it was almost like the closer his former classmate got, the more the stupid thing insisted on waving to get her attention. All three and half inches of it. “And does that always happen?” Mallory asks, her eyes focused on his cock. “Is it normal for him to be so…excited? Sorry for all the questions, but this is all new to me. I guess I’m just trying to make sense of it all.” As if finally noticing the young man’s discomfort, she tries to offer him what she hopes comes off as a supportive smile. “Sometimes.” Daphne concedes with a shrug, barely concealing her smirk when she sees a bead of precum leak from the tip of his swollen member. Instead she gives the other girl a playful nudge with her shoulder. “It doesn’t happen as much as it used to. He’s probably trying to show off since you’re here.” She lifts the front of his diaper before proceeding to securely fasten the tapes. “Not very impressive, I know. But it comes with the territory. If it ever gets to be too much, we call in Mom for back-up and she takes care of it.” Satisfied with her answer, Mallory ventures over to Connor’s crib. She runs her fingers along the bars as she observes the various stuffed animals strewn across the mattress. Next she makes her way to what appears to be an adult-sized rocking horse, her eyes going wide when she realizes that the man on the table most likely really did play with all of these toys. Toys that were intended for babies. “Can I ask who else knows about this?” She asks as she finds her way over to his chest of drawers. There’s no malice behind her questions, no cunning. Just genuine curiosity. Throwing caution to the wind, she takes her time opening each one, and is surprised when she finds a treasure trove of onesies, plastic pants, footy pajamas, bibs, and more. Jesus Christ. If anyone else at school found out about this, Mallory was pretty confident that Connor would never be able to live this down. “You’re the first. Well, you and your Mom, I suppose.” Spinning on her heel, Mallory watches as Daphne lifts her former classmate off the table before helping him into a new shirt. But she doesn’t allow him any pants. Perhaps because she believed there to be no point. His secret was out. At least where she was concerned. “Go on and play, baby boy.” A smiling Daphne shoos him away, continuing to ignore his pathetic little sniffles. “Big sis needs to finish talking to your friend, Mallory.” Left with no other option, Conner ambles away. This time choosing to hide in the confines of his adorable little playhouse. “If no one else knows, then why are you telling me? Aren’t you the least bit concerned that I might go out and tell everyone about what I saw here today? Connor would be…a joke.” Just as Daphne is prepared to respond, someone else manages to beat her to the punch. Her eyes dart to the door as her Mother and Mrs. Peters make their way into the nursery. “I’m afraid little Connor was already a joke long before he found his way back into diapers.” Michelle interjects cooly. “Breaking the law, causing mischief, being rude and disrespectful to the female members of this household…none of that makes you a real man. So, I’ve decided to give him another chance to grow up. The right way.” She saunters over to the entrance of the colorful playhouse, before yanking open the door. Reaching inside she all but drags a squealing Connor out by his ear. “We’re going to keep him like this until we’re sure he’s learned some discipline. As well as some respect for the women both inside and outside of this house. No self-respecting girl in this town or the next is going to give this naughty baby the time of day once they learn they might end up having to change his poopy diapers.” Of course, the subject of the discussion remains quiet as he continues to nervously suckle his pacifier. Mallory can’t help but wince as she witnesses the interaction. Because even though he had the reputation as being a bit of a self-serving prick, he’d never given her a hard time. Probably because she was on the nerdy side and always agreed to help him with his science homework. He would never see her as a potential love interest – a fact she had resigned herself to a long time ago. In his eyes, she was just the help. Eventually, she hears her own mother clear her throat. “This sure is a lot to take in, Michelle. And are you sure he was part of that group of vandals who tee-peed my house last halloween?” Mrs. Peters looks down her nose at the embarrassed young man. “It took us days to clean that up. And the eggs you miscreants threw ruined the finish on my husband’s car.” “I’m afraid so.” Michelle admits, her lips morphing into a delicate frown. “However, I can assure you that that kind of delinquent behavior is a thing of the past. But while we have you both here…” She plucks the binky from Connor’s mouth. “What do you have to say to these two lovely ladies? Speak!” At first, Connor struggles to answer. And he finds it almost impossible to meet their expectant gaze. That is until he hears his stepmother ask Daphne to go fetch the hair brush. “I’–m sorry, Mrs. Peters. A–and I’m sorry to you too, Mallory. For the mess.” While he knows it’s bad form to rush an overdue apology of this nature, his competing need for self-preservation has him stumbling over his words in an effort to finish before his sister returns. “F–for the toilet paper, and the eggs. That was wrong of me, and I’m so grateful that my Mommy is teaching me how to be a better, more upstanding citizen.” He tacks on the last part, hoping that it might earn him some brownie points. Both Mother and daughter exchange cursory looks as they mull over his apology. “Well, young man…” Mrs. Peters begins after a moment. “That was very, very naughty of you. Had I known you were behind it, I would’ve marched to your door and demanded you clean it up the very next day.” Awash with shame, Connor bows his head and simply prays for the moment to be over. All of this was too much for him to handle. If anything, he’s grateful when he’s once again allowed to have his binky. “But I am glad that your Mother finally has you on the right track.” She turns her attention back to Michelle. “And as for your earlier question, I suppose I’ll have to talk it over with Mallory, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Plus, I’m pretty sure she could use the extra cash, what with summer just on the horizon.” At that particular moment, Daphne barrels her way back into the room, her manicured hands holding the dreaded hair brush. “By the looks of it, I’m guessing you won’t be needing this?” She smirks when she notices Connor’s tear-stained cheeks. “Not until after our guests leave.” Taking the brush, his stepmother makes a show of resting it on his changing table. “But what you can do is say hello to little Connie’s new babysitter.” Clapping her hands in excitement, she takes the liberty of wrapping her arms around the girl and bringing her in for a hug. “She said yes?” His sister squeals, obviously pleased with this new development. “Not yet.” Michelle releases a stunned Mallory before taking a step back to give her a little more breathing room. “But I can tell she’s thinking about it. And perhaps I should add that the pay is negotiable.” The chatter continues, swirling around Connor with such a force that would’ve easily knocked him off his feet if he hadn’t already been sitting on the floor. He just couldn’t believe that in the span of one day – in no more than a handful of hours – he’d lost what little control he’d had left over his life. And now that Mallory and her Mom knew, he was certain that it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world found out. Overwhelmed by the ferocity of his emotions, he releases a despondent wail as he begins to rapidly fill his diaper. The quiet hiss of urine causes the ladies in the room to suddenly go silent as they watch his padded crotch expand in real-time. But try as he might, he can’t stop the nervous flow. “I said it before and I’ll say it again.” Mrs. Peter’s words come on the heels of a surprised chuckle. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it.” Taking Michelle’s hand in her own, she offers a sympathetic squeeze. “Of course you have our discretion. Not that this young man deserves it – but this is obviously a very delicate matter.” Unfortunately, for a still-weeping Connor, his stepmother doesn’t appear to be moved by the other woman’s promise of privacy. “Oh, we don’t mind if people find out. That’s part of the reason we invited you.” She hauls him up to his feet before making a show of checking the back of his diaper for the disaster she was almost positive was on its way. A nervous wee-wee was nearly always followed-up by a nervous poo-poo. Another humiliating fact she had no problem sharing with the group. “Since I know Daphne just changed you, we’ll wait until you finish making stinkies before we even bother with getting you into a fresh diaper.” Looking back at his friend and her mother, she goes on to continue her earlier conversation. “Little Connie is going to need a babysitter this summer. My girls and I each have our own lives and pursuits, so we decided to enlist some help. They say it takes a village after all. Therefore, it’s only inevitable that others in the community are bound to find out.” She then proceeds to usher everyone out of the nursery in favor of returning to the living room, all the while keeping a solid grip on her stepson’s slim wrist. Patting his swollen bottom, she directs him a fresh set of blocks she had previously set in the corner. “We’ll know when he does his business.” Michelle prattles on as she and the other three women have a seat on the couch. “He usually gets on all fours, squats and grunts – it’s a whole production, really. But back to my proposal…” Mallory immediately perks up, her brilliant green eyes swimming with interest. “How soon would you need me to start?” “Ideally, as soon as possible.” His stepmother picks up her once forgotten glass of wine before taking a slow sip. “I’m well aware that these are a…” She casts another withering glance in Connor’s direction. “...shall we say, unique, set of circumstances. But what’s needed is needed. While school’s in session, I’ll need you a minimum two days a week, four hours a night. As well as every other Saturday, for six hours a night.” “That’s doable.” She adds a small slice of quiche onto her empty plate. “And the rate?” “I’m thinking $25 on weekdays and $35 on weekends. Of course…there’s always the possibility for more. I have no doubt that you’ll make a great fit.” Mallory takes a bite of her food, chewing slowly as she mulls over the offer. No matter how odd, there was no denying the fact the money was too good to ignore. At this rate, if she accepted, she’d have no problem saving up for college in the fall. Nodding to herself, she places the plate on the table before extending her hand to her brand new employer. “Alright, Michelle.” She beams, feeling grateful that she had agreed to accompany her mother this morning. “I’d say you’ve got yourself a deal.” END (PART THREE COMING SOON) Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!

This was a story I wrote back in 2022 as a gift to someone, I decided to re upload it here. I hope someone here enjoys it! ----------------------------------------------- Girl's Day Out The two figures of Rose Lalonde and Jane Crocker sat silently in their respective stroller seats. They didn’t say anything because of course they couldn’t. They both had their pacifier gags in their mouths. Although their legs and arms were already strapped to the sides of the large baby stroller, The looming figure of the Condesce leaned over them to strap seat-belts over their bodies. “Now, isn’t that betta?” She said. “Not gunna be getting no trouble from you two anymoray!”. She explained. The woman couldn’t do anything but squirm, glaring up at their captor, resenting every moment of this while the troll on the other hand was relishing every moment. Rose and Jane wore matching outfits, bows in their short cut hair, purple and blue onesies along with fuzzy gloves an booties that made their hands and feet practically useless. Around their necks were bibs that caught whatever drool that might have come from their mouths. The most damning feature about the pair was the thick crinkly padding around each of their waists. They both wore large thick diapers that fit tightly around their waists, spreading their legs and making it impossible for them to close their legs. Jane gave an undignified moan through her pacifier gag as the troll placed the seat-belt across her waist. “Now don’t be whining or I’ll make ya something to whine about!”. The Condesce said as she held up a small remote, flicking it on. Each of them had a vibrator bullet pressed up to each side of their crotches, not directly on their private parts but just close enough for them to feel every sensation from the toys and have them driving up the wall. Jane and Rose both gave out respective groans upon feeling the vibrators start up. “That should carp you two quiet for a while!”. The Condesce said with a cackle, watching the two girl’s face’s flush red from the sensation. The walked away and returned to with large bottles of milk. “Now, let’s get ya both proper filled up!”. She said. When she said “Proper filled up”. She really meant it as well. Starting with Jane who she seemed to have more of an affinity for- she took turns feeding the human’s bottles of milk, removing their pacifier gags and holding the nipple in their mouths until every last drop of the liquid was down their throats. Rose felt that her stomach was full, but was forced to drink the entire bottle, giving a few little series of coughs when she was done, and spitting milk up onto her bib as she did so. “Please no more m-MHMMHPM!”. She would say before the pacifier gag was unceremoniously placed back into her mouth. The Condesce gave a tutting sound as she waved her finger. “That’s not how good little babies speak to their mothers!”. She said, flipping the switch of the vibrator on once more. Jane tried to squeeze her legs together upon feeling the motion of the toys inside her diaper. It was safe to say that if one of them even thought of acting up or saying anything out of line, then the other girl would feel the repercussions of their actions together. “Now, what say I take you boat on a nice stroll through town huh?”. She asked the pair, not waiting for a response. The two humans couldn’t do anything as they were strolled down a busy street, blushing every time a troll would pass them. Some would make embarrassing and downright degrading comments, sometimes right to their face. But no matter how much they hated it, they knew that any complaining from either of them would face punishment. “You betta be getting use to this little ones, because we are going to be doing this for a long time!”. The Condesce said to them, stopping the stroller in front of what looked like an alien shop. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back!”. She gave a cackle as she entered the building, leaving Rose and Jane alone. Both of them gave a gasp almost instantly as they felt the vibrators start up again on the inside of their thighs. “Oh, almost forgot!”. The troll would be heard saying as her footsteps once again disappeared. Rose closed her eyes, her face and neck going bright red as she felt the pressure from the vibrators on her crotch. She didn’t know if the Condesce would be able to hear her or not, but she kept as quiet as she possibly could, only small gasps and whimpers escaping her mouth. Jane on the other hand was very noisy, squirming in her seat, and moaning and making lots of noises through her own pacifier gag. She squeezed her legs together, the crinkling of the diaper only contributing to the noise and feeling of the vibrator. Of course this spectacle wouldn’t go unnoticed by anyone walking past and soon a small crowd would form around the two humans in the crib. Rose tried to ignore the feeling of all those yellow alien eyes watching her, but it was very hard when people were constantly reaching to touch you. “Ah, I see you met my babies?”. The voice of the Condesce would be heard again as the pair would feel the handles of the stroller being taken once again. The small crowd all cooing and started taking pictures of the pair. Rose and Jade would feel the prying eyes and hands on their bodies, rubbing their stomach and hair as well as their diapers. This only caused further embarrassment to them both, Rose jerking her head away from the hands on her body. “Now, behave your two!”. The Condesce told them, turning up the vibrators up another notch. Jane let out a muffled staggered moan, her body stiffing up as she would be the first to orgasm in her diaper. Rose’s eyes widen as she squirmed in her seat, leaning her body away from Jane. The girl’s head flipped up and her face went bright red as her chest heaved up a down. Rose squeezed her legs together as well as she felt pleasure run through her own body. Soon joining Jane as she would orgasm in her own diaper, cute stifled noises and moans coming from her mouth. The Condesce smiled down at them. “I think ya’ both had a big enough day, let’s get you back home”. She said, pushing them down the street and back to were she came from. The pair were both exhausted from the result of the toys, the humiliation, and the length of the day. Soon Rose found her eyes fluttering as she begin to drift off to sleep. She woke up a while later, not sure how much later but she found herself still in the stroller. The sudden pang from her bladder was what jolted her fully awake. She squirmed in her seat, looking over at the face of the Condesce. “Aww, does someone need to go?”. She said, reaching down to press on Rose’s crotch. “Don’t worry. Let it allll out!”. She said, encouraging her. Of course once her bladder was pressed on so suddenly she couldn’t help herself and the entirety of what she had been drinking earlier emptied out into her diaper, a faint hissing sound the only thing that was heard for a solid minute as she felt the padding sag and swell up around her waist. All she could do was close her eyes, waiting for it to be over. Then to the Condesce's delight, Jane let out a muffled noise of her own, hearing the same noise coming from her as she would join Rose in wetting her diapers. Soon they would both be completely soaking the padding around their waists. Their diapers now stained a light shade of yellow. “Good job girls!” The Condesce commented, giving each of their diapers a squeeze, the padding making a respective sloshing sound. “But, you know I won’t change you until you both completely use them!”. She said, pushing the stroller across a busy street. Both of the humans looked at each other, sucking on their pacifier gags in worry and in reflex. Jane's stomach gave a gurgling noise which cause the troll to smile widely, unzipping the diaper bag she had with her just in case. It was going to be a long day and she knew it. ----------------------------------------------- Let me know if I should do a follow up to, or continue this story, any ideas or feedback would be appreciated!

Trapped in Diaper Dreams: Prologue I yawned, despite the three cups of coffee I'd already downed this evening. The subject of my testing, a Mr. Franklin Jones, snored next to me at a decibel level high enough that I wondered if I should be wearing ear plugs to prevent any long-term damage. Well, I'd have to remember that for next time. Mr. Jones was had volunteered for a special sleep study in which I, Dr. Hannah Lynton, tested my ingenious invention on him. It was an apparatus designed to allow a conscious person to control the dreams of someone who was asleep by measuring the activity of the awake person and projecting it as theta waves into the brain of the sleeper. On the surface, not many people see the utility of such a device. Why would you want to control someone's dreams? But they don't see the bigger picture. This could be used to allow people to speak to comatose loved ones. Or perhaps it could be used as a rehabilitation method on the criminally insane? The possibilities are as limitless as… Well, as dreams! Unfortunately, I haven't had much success. The test involved myself and the patient wearing special headgear attached to the machine between us. Then once he was asleep, I was to read a novel–in this case Moby Dick–and then when the patient awakes we ask him what he dreamt about and see if it matches the events of the book. This was our 5th time repeating this test and we've seen few positive results. On the 2nd night he did dream about being on a boat, but that's where the similarities ended. If tonight didn't yield any workable results, I'd be back to the drawing board. The door opened to my right and I managed to glance up from my book to see my colleague, Dr. Bethany Avery bringing me another cup of coffee. "Having fun yet?" she whispered. I gave her a quick smile and turned my attention back to my book. Protocol dictated that I keep distractions to a minimum. Although I had to admit, I could find myself very easily distracted by Dr. Avery… She placed the coffee cup on the tray next to me and took my empty one. "I don't know how you manage to drink so much coffee during these tests knowing you can't get up to use the bathroom until morning. Unless you're wearing an adult diaper or something?” I cringed at the thought. A diaper? Me? ”As if I would ever do something so…” Humiliating? Childish? ”Unprofessional.” She shrugged “Is it really all that less-professional than pissing in a bottle?” She glanced under my chair and I felt heat rise up to my cheeks. I know she couldn't see the bottle I'd hidden inside my purse, but I suppose she must have surmised that I was finding some way to relieve myself during these overnight tests. I think she sensed my discomfort with the topic and backed off a bit “Sorry, I'm being weird. Do whatever you think is best, doctor.” The sudden use of an honorific somehow made me feel like I'd messed up. Pushing Bethany away was the last thing I wanted. “N-no, it's fine! I umm… I guess I just… Never thought of it that way?” Perhaps I was just projecting my own desires, but I could've sworn I caught a hint of a smirk in her eyes. Was she… Enjoying watching me get all flustered? “Well, if you decide you wanna try it, I can probably sneak a diaper from the supply closet for you.” she winked, heading out of the room. My gaze lingered on the doorway after she was gone. Damn. She sure does have a way of getting under my skin… And her idea was… Not without merit. Using my “piss bottle” as she called it, was among my least favorite parts of this whole experiment. I'd never considered that there might be an alternative solution. But diapers? Really? How could I, a grown woman, stoop so low as to wear a diaper and pee myself like some kind of… Baby? And why are my cheeks burning so badly at the thought? *ZZZZZZTTT!* The lights overhead suddenly flickered as something on the machine burst and sparks spewed out. But none of that registered to my mind as my body went completely rigid and my head felt like it was on fire! I don't know if it lasted a second or several minutes, but when the Surge of electricity finally subsided I slumped in my seat, my vision darkening as I fell into unconsciousness… \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ (And now, a message from Wannatripbaby): Hi all! So this is the Prologue for a sort of Anthology series Princessdiapergirl and myself have decided to start for any sort of random, crazy story idea we get that isn't quite big or bold enough for a multi-chapter story. This way we can get straight into the good stuff without all the set-up. So far, we have one (1) fully written story for this series which we will likely post sometime within the next few days. After that? Well, that's where you come in! If you can think of any crazy or kinky scenarios you'd like to see us inflict upon our poor Dr. Hannah Lynton, leave a Comment down below and tell us! We might just make it a reality! 😁

A/N: IMPORTANT TO NOTICE Hey all! I hope you're all doing well! Do not worry! I am still working on my other stories but had started this a while ago and felt like I should post it! Just a warning in the beginning that this story will contain a lot of non-con, sexual content and humiliation. If this makes you uncomfortable than I suggest you don't read it! I love seeing comments so I'd love to see everyone's comments! ooOoo Summary: When a young new independent journalist decides to write about something other than the typical run of the mill stories, she is introduced into a new life, just not in the way she expected. ooOoo Chapter 1: MommyslittleBiggurls.com 22 December 2021 Hello Friends! It sure has been a while! I hope you’re all doing well on this frosty morning. Here in Montana, we’re certainly going to have a white Christmas. Sugar and Cookie sure are excited to see Santa and have been extra careful to be good girls; always asking for the potty like good little girls, eating all of their veggies at dinner and making sure to drink all of their babas full of yummy milk! I’m sure you all are experiencing the same with your little ones at the moment, even the disobedient can’t ignore the happy cheer of Christmas. I really can’t believe it’s only been three months since we first adopted our newest little girl, Honey! Of course with new littles, it’s always an adventure and Sugar and Cookie are being the best big sisters they can be! It can be hard, especially around the holidays to deal with an un-regressed, naughty little so that brings me to the topic of today’s post: Punishments. If you're like me or are a new caregiver, it’s never easy training a new little and before they can be our sweet little babies, they will be literal demons! It is never fun but in order to nip that naughty behavior in the bum, punishment is required and it is not always as simple as quick spanking. Listed below, you will find three different punishments to try if you, like me, were at a loss. Punishments: Punishment 1: Corner time with a twist Depending on the severity of the naughty behavior, instruct your little one it's corner time for a certain amount of time. While many, if not all, will just find this incredibly boring and whine, there is a small twist. Listen carefully to these five steps: Take littles’ clothes away (that means no diapers/pullups/or undies as well!), Give a nice soapy cold enema to their bum-bum and insert a buttplug to ensure no dribbles Administer a firm spanking (I’ve found different objects such as a belt or hairbrush to be most effective!) Little will bend down or kneel in the corner with their bum-bum high in the air for everyone to see After a certain amount of time, if the little has not moved from their position, you will instruct the little to tell you what they did wrong and have them beg to release their bodily functions. If you are unsatisfied with their response, even more minutes will be added to corner time Punishment 2: Potty Time with Horsy Let’s get real, we’ve all struggled with littles refusing to go potty in their diapers or on the training toilet and it’s a pain to have to insert enemas and suppositories into screaming littles. That’s how I came up with horsy time. The rocking horse, while meant to be an object of amusement during playtime, can just as quickly be turned into an object of torture. What you need to do is listed below: The little will sit on the rocking horse in only their bottoms, whether that be a diaper or pull-up Place earphones on little and set to the wet diaper hypnosis Instruct the little to rock back and forth and do not stop no matter what and not to mess or wet themselves Plan a certain amount of time and come back when the time is up If the little is still rocking and is dry, they have earned the privilege to go potty. If not, horsy time is extended and the dirty diaper stays on another several hours The constant rhythmic motion combined with hypnosis at the same timing will put the littles right in the mood to have to relieve themselves. How they do it will no longer matter. The added pressure to keep a constant rocking in order to avoid further punishment will take a heavy toll on their mind as well and increase the need for positive behavior. Punishment 3: No Playtime with Teddy If you choose to allow your little to have any sexual release, this punishment can have a rewarding effect. As a human race, we are sexual beings but not everyone deserves or should have such an experience. Littles have gotten it into their minds that they should be allowed to have such experiences, but what do they know? They’re just littles. It is our job as caretakers to instruct and control their urges. If we leave them to their own devices, who knows what will happen? My little girls are allowed one play session a week with Mr. Teddy Bear to release all of their icky cummies by the hand of mommy and daddy. While Rosie and Cookie know being a good girl will lead to happy feelings, Honey is still learning. Orgasm and cum denial or “the tickles and ice cream dance” as we call it, are an excellent way to assert dominance and make them quickly realize who the real grownups are and who is in charge. Mittens or restraints are a must for untrained littles! You never know where their wandering hands will end up! Chastity belts are also a great device, especially if they get a little too excited during playtime and try humping (which is extremely discouraged!) IMPORTANT: It is important to enforce anything sexual is not allowed without the approval, observation, and act by grown-ups because you never know when littles might accidentally injure themselves! I hope you all enjoyed my little list and hopefully it helps you on your journey to having a regressed little! It may seem tough at times but we’ve all gone through it before (I currently am!) Stay tuned for next time and meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas! Love, Mommy Bree ooOoo The sound of the ding signaling the post had been successfully posted was a happy feeling to say the least. Unknown outside the world of ageplay, Bree Hawthorne was as famous as could be within the community. With over ten thousand followers and readers, people tuned in from all over the world to read about their simple little family. Being a blogger on top of a mommy had become her full time job and she didn’t regret a single second of it. She always knew she wanted to have a family and her love for blogging couldn’t have been a more perfect combination. There were so many who envied to fill the role of a Hawthorne little but only so few could actually meet the requirements. That’s why they had taken to unique means of obtaining their little girls. Kidnapping was a bit too harsh a term. They preferred adoption. Did the public need to know that? No. Would they ever find out? Probably not. Looking around outside the large glass windows, the only view for miles was farmland with snow capped mountains in the background. Bloomington, Montana was the perfect place to go to if one didn’t want to be found. They had the freedom to be who they were without any nosey neighbors disrupting their lives. Her husband, coming from old money, allowed them to own lavish homes around the country, buy the newest high-tech adult-baby equipment and pay off those they needed to stay quiet. Everything was as it should be. Everything would soon be perfect. They were our babydolls. Sugar, Cookie, Honey and- “Another post?” Jasper. At the sound of his deep voice, she spun around in the swivel chair. Face to face with her blonde, strong-jawed, blue eyed handsome husband. He was everything she dreamed of in a man. Strong, smart, caring, loyal. A great daddy to their three wonderful girls. What more could a person ask of a spouse? “Yes. I’ve finished just in time for… lunch!” she exclaimed, glancing at the time and shutting down the macbook. “Today’s post was about punishments and I gave the best examples of Honey. How is she doing this morning actually? The baby monitor on her end has been awfully quiet.” she asked, having been in the office the entire morning working. “Sleeping.” was his only response, scowling with his hand over his face. “Do I want to know what happened?” “No.” It was always a struggle to tame the girl and her rebellious behavior and silly dreams. Most often then not her bum was black and blue, littered with marks and bruises. How a five foot, one-hundred-twenty pound girl with not an ounce of body fat had managed to give them this much a fight, they did not know. While the little blonde fought they pushed back just as hard. She would break eventually. They all do. “Sugar and Cookie are in the playpen writing letters to Santa,” that made them crack a smile. “I can feed them while you handle, Honey? I may just take her over my knee again and that’s not what she needs at the moment.” Bree reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck as his face burrowed into her kinky black hair, placing a trail of kisses upon her chocolate colored skin. “So it’s my turn to play the bad mommy,” she mused. “Precisely.” her husband cracked a smile. “It feels so much longer than three months since we got her. Remember?” Oh, how could they forget…

My Fav Things: Shower, specifically, getting a diaper full of water and rubbing it Enemas / Diarrhea (Do I even need to explain this nice feeling) Stain (using enema, diarrhea, pee) the backside, underside, front side, etc.. Pour oatmeal that I made watery on purpose into a clean diap Mineral / Castor Oil because it affects me in a way to where I have questionable poots that turn into a flood Squish the mess, pee, diaper fillers (oatmeal) Last but definitely not least: walk in public with a short skirt that exposes the diaper well

Curse of the Crinkle Crate Composed by Horatio Husky Featuring and Commissioned by Kazard the Fox! Chapter 1 The Box I… Want… Couch Time… Now… were the thoughts of a certain blonde-haired fox, as he absentmindedly fumbled with the keys to his small, cozy home. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyelids half open in a vacant stare as he maneuvered his key into the lock of his front door. The day had been absolutely miserable, all of his clients had been in a bad temper when he spoke with them about their problems, and one of them even seemed to believe that the fox didn’t really know what he was doing. Of course, he knew what he was doing! He’d graduated top of his class by no small miracle, the fox was very talented at his work, but the lack of appreciation and frustration that was thrust upon him by his clients was not something studying could have prepared him for. At last, the key turned, and the door swung wide open, shouldering his bag he strode inside and carelessly dropped it in the front hallway, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him with a click, locking it once more. Give… Me… That… Couch… thought the fox once more, as he strode into his living room. However, his couch did not seem to be on the agenda just yet, for the fox almost tripped over a wooden box in the center of the room. Kaz was taken aback, how had this gotten in his home? He didn’t remember lugging a rather plain, heavy looking wooden box into his home. Its dimensions were around two feet by two feet, and a foot and a half tall. Kneeling down, his tail now twitching with apparent interest and curiosity he inspected it closer to find that its lid was hinged, with the front opening to the container facing towards him. What on earth… Did somebody break in and leave this here? He thought to himself, as he reached forward with a paw and tentatively opened the strange box. The lid thumped onto his carpet as he gazed into what was held within the strange item, and was even more confused to see that the box only contained two items in it. A thick square of plastic upon closer inspection Kaz found to be a white, adult diaper, and a note next to it, written in fancy cursive. He picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he perused through a short poem, a strange feeling of warmth he didn’t recognize bubbling up in his insides as he did so. For a year and a day obedient shall you be, To the rules and whims of the box at your knee, Letters and rules shall be provided from these wooden confines, Giving you instructions, tasks, items, and lines, And lest you not listen to my behest, Shall you not have your day-to-day be the best! For control and independence are no longer yours From now you’ll always be clad in diapers! Diapers? Control? Is this all some sort of prank that got delivered into my house that one of my friends managed to sneak in? He turned the note over and found that more was written on the back of it, this time not in the mysterious cursive font as on the front. The rules are simple, Kazard. For a year and a day you will be completely unable to control your bladder nor your bowel, making it that at any time whatsoever, you will completely and utterly mess and wet yourself anywhere you are. Within this box, you will find your solution to this new conundrum in your life, which you have agreed to participate in by opening this box. Whenever you open this box you will be supplied with plain white diapers perfectly matched to handle whatever punishment you give them. It is recommended that you also invest in other supplies related to padding, such as powder and anti-rash cream, but those are up to your discretion. You may try and not wear your diapers, but you will find that it is wiser to comply with the rules and keep yourself nice and secure; your continence will not return either if you do not obey the rules set before you. If you wish to communicate with the box, you must do so through a bargain written on a note to express your wishes. However, be warned: the box is liable to interpret and balance any request or boon as it wishes if whatever you offer is not of equal value, so it may be wisest to obey as instructed and keep yourself diapered at all times of the day, otherwise, the consequences will be severe. With that, we hope you enjoy your next trip around the sun padded up! This has to be a joke… Boxes that interpret poetry and supply diapers whenever opened? This isn’t even a funny prank, this is pathetic. The fox dropped the diaper and note back into the box with contempt, what a stupid thing to waste his time with. He got up, the couch now forgotten as his stomach rumbled its hunger aloud to the room. He padded over to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and rummaging through his dry food cabinet, retrieving a large bag of chips. He held the bag in his maw as he stretched, reaching up to the higher shelf to grab himself a chocolate bar. It was just out of his reach, and he strained, leaning against the counter to support his weight as he grasped after his sweet. The counter must have been wet, however, for he looked down as he felt something damp against him. The bag of chips dropped out of his mouth and onto the counter below him. The counter hadn’t been wet, no. It was he who had gotten wet.

Hi everyone, So I've been a lurker for years. Reading your stories, a little jealous sometimes at certain scenarios. I love writing but never had the courage to write ABDL stories. Today I just felt like trying and made my own account to publish. English is not my native language, constructive criticism and ideas are always welcome. If you guys like it, I will definitely continue. Nina ":) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Intro The sun was finding it's way through the half open blinds, small beams of light peaking through on the early Monday morning. The first sign of hopefully good weather today, not that they wouldn't go out if there was chance of rain but for an outside activity it surely was a plus. The bedroom was quiet, except for the soft snoring of a young man. Next to his sleeping form was a woman, just a few years his senior. She had been awake for several minutes already but hadn't moved yet, she was content with just looking at her sweet for now. He had cradled himself against her, the head full of dark brown curls nestled against the woman's bosom and his hand holding onto the fabric of the pink nighty she was wearing. The other one held a grip onto a stuffed red panda, his favourite animal. His light snores wear still heard, but the pacifier in his mouth continued to move up and down every now and then as he suckled. He also was content. This new dynamic had been going on for seven weeks now, they had been together for two and a half. But they had both missed something in it, well, Jessy mostly. A mother. Esmee had always cared for him, right from the start she nurtured him a little more then a girlfriend probably should have. But that's what he needed, someone to tell him what do, make his decisions. It gave him structure, less stress and she was more then happy to see him blossom in life because of that. She was his partner but also his mama now. In the last seven weeks there had been changes, obviously all in agreement. Some he was unsure about, like the bedroom across the hall being turned into his nursery. He liked the big bed, loved snuggling with his Mama as he slept. But there he was all alone with just his panda, so for now they agreed only naps were to be taken in his crib. Diapers on the other hand hadn't been much of a problem. He was naturally a little lazy, so the diapers were introduced as the perfect solution for gaming, no potty breaks needed. Jessy liked his diapers, the infantile underwear felt nice and thick. And his Mama always gave him bum pats when they snuggled, those were the best. With every drop of motherly love Esmee gave Jessy the last seven weeks, he became a different person. He slept better, was less anxious and just in general much happier being her little boy. There was only one thing that he struggled with most, outside. Jessy had no trouble being his Mama's boy inside, but out of the house? What if friends saw him, family? Or if a stranger noticed the bulge of the thick pampers? The thought on it's own made him physically ill. What if they noticed? Esmee understood, but this dynamic they had, she liked it too. More then she was willing to admit and she wasn't just going to 'play house' at the house. So every now and then she would take him with her on errands, just small ones. Dressed in shorts a size too big, a clear white onesie underneath that was snapped closed at the crotch, the tight fabric against his thick diapers and a striped red and white t-shirt to hide it under. They would wander through the grocery store, one that was two towns away from theirs. She would hold his hand, like any mother that wouldn't want their child to wonder off. Jessy would toddle next to her, his legs splayed apart because of the underwear. And he was quiet, with a faint little blush on his cheeks as Esmee walked through the store with him, occasionally patting his crinkling behind, reminding Jessy of his status. And with every small outing the young man had with his Mama, he felt more relaxed. It was only a small routine trip after all, she was there, making sure he was alright and taken care of. On the last trip he even emptied his bladder, right there in the baby isle as Mama was getting new wipes. But today would be different, today they were going to the zoo. Jessy was excited to see the red pandas, but the realisation that it was a full day out made him anxious. And when he was anxious, he became a fussy little boy. He didn't listen or cleaned up his toys. To top it all off, Mama made him lunch and he purposely tossed it on the floor. Yesterday evening they were supposed to go out for dinner with friends, the first time in a full week he would be out of diapers and in a pull up. Mama made him wear those just to be sure. But she had canceled it because of his behaviour, told them they couldn't make it. And when Mama announced that, Jessy threw his PlayStation controller on the ground in anger. As it collided against the black tiles, the back came off and the controller glided away to the other side of the living room. Seeing the state of the item he immediately regretted it, more reason because it been a gift. Mama had pulled some serious strings to get it for him when it came out, it was hard to get but she managed and here he was throwing it around. Esmee wasn't going to punish him for his behaviour, she knew what the real source of the behaviour was. Not to mention that the guilt was already written over his face before the controller had come against the ground. His cheeks were now red, glistering of tears in his eyes as he looked up slowly, even Jessy was embarrassed at his own childish tantrum. So she took his hand, deciding that an early bedtime and some extra motherly love was in order. Now here they were the next morning, Jessy cradled against his loving Mama as he dreamed of red pandas with diapers on.

Chapter 1 You lay sprawled, legs resting open naturally to either side of your wet diaper. Cold slender hands slide to take a firm hold of your soft wrist cuffs to transition them with a click to the locking clips by your shoulders. This was standard practice of all households enrolled in the program; although for you, it was almost unnecessary of course since by now you’ve learned it’s better to lie still. A pacifier nurses in and out of your mouth as the first tapes are ripped free by the practiced hands of your Civil Caregiver. Today Sammantha appears in no rush. You feel the diaper lowering, slowly, coaxing you to look at the yellow patch between your legs. Your cheeks burn and you look quickly back to the side to ignore the knowing look on your Caregiver’s face. A wipe is dropped dismissively before a hand joins it. A firm hand gathers your ankles and lifts them to reach any wetness that spread to your bottom. A few moments of loud crinkling follows until the brush of your newest diaper is under you. As the first light tap of cool powder begins, the doorbell rings. Samantha pauses mid-shake, the powder bottle hovers poised above you as she seems lost in an internal debate. You were clean and safely strapped down so she didn't see the harm in leaving you. She lowers your legs to either side of your diaper and sets the powder aside to answer the door. “Ms. Withers?” The voice reaches the nursery and you can glance far enough to see a man in a dark suit and tie standing on the doorstep politely removing his hat. “I’m here for a routine inspection of your charge. May I come in?" "Oh, yes of course!" Samantha beams, eager to show him inside. “I’m sorry if I don't shake. I was just dealing with a very full diaper!” Sam was always completely hygienic with your changes of course, but couldn’t pass up the chance to be a little showy. “That's impressive considering Y/N's age and short length of time sentenced to your care." The inspector said, referencing a file and clicking his pen to take note.Samantha excitedly ushers him to your nursery. You still lay dusted with powder caught in the middle of your diaper change. Seeing the man enter, your knees instinctively crunch closed in your concern for modesty. "Nuh huh!" Sam shakes her finger storming right over to you. ”You know that's a no-no! Even when guests arrive. Open!” Sam spanks you, so suddenly and so hard, you flinch against your changing straps and tinkle a little. Samantha despite a fair amount of strain can’t keep her composure and breaks into a fit of giggles at your toddler-befitting accident before grabbing a wet wipe to drag down your front again and dust the spot with another quick cool puff of powder. The inspector nods approvingly. "She seems very far along." he observes, noting the time and incident. “Now, before we go any further. I need to see more evidence of her regularity." He crosses the few remaining steps inside the nursery to inspect your diaper pail. "...My goodness.” He pauses peeking at the taped bundles inside. “Does she really need changes this often?" He sees your used diapers are almost filling the pail to the brim. Undeterred, he begins counting the number of times you've failed to keep clean, tallying each used pair in his notebook before praising the healthy ratio of wet to messy diapers he sees. "That's right.” Your Caregiver gleefully adds with a self-satisfied smile. “She needs her diaper changed after every nap or bedtime; she fills them right up. Doesn’t even notice not even when she's messing." She grins. "Incredible work," the inspector mutters writing that down in his notes as well. "Now what about when she's awake?" "I'm so glad you asked.” Sam intoned with a pompous air and smile. “She ends up having accidents, like you saw, wetting them mostly. I always give her more than the recommended number of chem bottles and fiber feedings so she’s almost always ready to let go. I know it's not strictly necessary, but I just love catching her in the act. One time, I was cradling her in my lap for her bottle feeding, and I could tell she was struggling, so I gave her just the tiniest of presses, and the little girl completely let go! She was wetting her diaper so heavily against me, I wondered if it was even going to hold it all! Speaking of which...” She eyes you trapped on the table. “Let me finish up her change before she might make a mess." She tuts over to you on the changing table and makes a big show of pulling up her big girl's diaper, once so defiant, now being wrapped up in a disposable. "Then can see why you've chosen the thicker variety." the man observes over your caregiver’s shoulder while she readies your diaper’s tapes. "Oh my yes. I can only keep her in the most absorbent overnights." Sam says securing the tapes over your crinkling diaper’s bulk as if to demonstrate. “She is just such a heavy wetter and her messes need somewhere to go." She pinches you, finishing up the last tape seal with a rub. "But I do love how these diapers still come in the little baby prints. Don't you? She really does look like an overgrown baby this way. Yes she does. Yes she does," she coos and tickles you. "And what a good baby you've been! Waiting quietly while the grown ups talked. You didn't even fuss for your paci." "And how is the progress there?" "Let me show you." She deftly procures your pacifier from where it had fallen and slides it between your resigned lips. They see you suckle tentatively at first, then more prominently and Samantha's grin widens. She leans in, praising her well-trained suckling baby, pressing a hand strategically into your diaper's noisy thickness. She coyly steals a glance at the inspector for his reaction. Needless to say, his eyebrows are high with appreciation as you fidget and turn to hide the heat building in your face. He clears his throat. "Well, I certainly have no further questions." He states tidying up his materials. "Ms. Withers your work here is outstanding. I am recommending you for a higher position in our efforts, and I'm sure our director will want to meet with you," he adds confidently, tucking your folder away and donning his hat. "Oh pish posh." Samantha says bashfully still idly groping at your softly rustling diapered crotch. “Simply following the prescribed number of spankings and dirtying of diapers have gotten us to this point, Mr. Inspector." She smiles. Chapter 2 - A Teaching Moment Locked in your car seat and thickly diapered for what was becoming a lengthy road trip. Your binky rattled with each curious suckle watching the scenery speed past. Your head bobs and eventually the blur of trees lulls you off to sleep. You awake hours later, groggily lifting your head to feel cool air against your thighs and the probing rustles of Samantha’s fingers checking your diaper. She had pulled the car into a rest stop and was leaning through the opened back door for your inspection. "As expected...Come on honey let's get you a new diaper and that stinky one changed.“ You’re confused and burning withshames, but she simple repositions your clothes over your used diaper and unbuckles you from your car seat. Your packed diaper bag is already waiting for you by the curb. She takes your hand, but your head shakes ever so slightly. "...Are you telling Mommy no?" She warns. You nervously look past her again at the crowded rest stop full of proper citizens happily picnicking and enjoying the springtime sun. But one more stern look from your caregiver and you slide yourself out from the car. She walks you past the chatty vacationers towards the public restroom, swinging your packed diaper bag over her shoulder and tugging you along in tow, waddling and struggling to keep up. Some onlookers paused their conversations to snicker at your pacifier and your struggles to walk some even outright laughed noticing your loaded seat was most likely to blame. Samantha drags you inside the woman's restroom to its designated diaper changing counter. She unfurls one of your Issued changing mats to place your mushy pants on top of. She babytalks gleefully proudly pulling down your outergarments, and opening your diaper to reveal your mess. "Phew. I'm glad we stopped when we did or this would have gotten ripe honey. You're also so soaked!" Your cheeks flared. It was still so difficult to accept you were filling your diapers without any indication, but only while you slept! She pushes your legs up to your chest causing your hips to rock back off your dirty diaper to remove it. She dumps it neatly into the restroom's fragrant pail, then gets to work cleaning you up with wet wipes. "That's it honey." She coos. "Just lay still so Mommy can clean all your poopy peepee..." She takes her time. Each chilly stroke longer than the last; slowing even further when people start to enter the public restroom, hoping they’d take notice. "My my." An older lady sneers noticing you on the counter with diapers and dirty wipes. "And here I thought they could control themselves." "...Oh no.” Sam chuckles finishing up her last clean swipe. She holds up your next massive diaper for the woman to see; its rounded thickness hangs open bottom heavy in the air. ”See how much protection she needs? And they get put to good use, believe me.” Sam whisks the diaper beneath you, shaking her head like a put-upon mother accepting potty training was never going to happen. The lady puffed with patriotic pride. "See to it.” She sniffed haughtily before thanking Sam for her service and taking care of her own business the grown up way while Sam continued your change with practiced precision. She was just finishing up arranging you bottoms-up for powdering when another woman approached. "Excuse me...” She began. “I couldn't help but notice...I've been thinking of volunteering for the cause myself. Do you mind if I lend a hand with the rest of her diaper change?" Happy to oblige, and eager to recruit Caregiver potential, Sam agrees wholeheartedly. She dusts a few light groupings of powder onto your waiting bottom before passing the bottle on to your babysitter-in-training. “See? Nothing to it. Just sprinkle some more of her baby powder onto her bottom...” Sam prompts waiting for the woman to begin. "...Just like that! You're a natural! You can add a little more powder if you want. Yes, yes, unfortunately for her, that is a small case of diaper rash. We've been on the road so it's hard to change her when she needs it. Go ahead and add lots of powder to keep her dry. Perfect! Now use your hand to rub it in...spread it out evenly...her little bum-bum is so soft all powdered up, isn't it? Now, I'm going to lower her down onto her diaper." Your powdered bottom is soon cradled in soft padding and Sam arranges your legs to allow plenty of room to work. "She's smooth?" The woman asked inquisitively as she fiddled with the baby powder. "Can you imagine if she wasn’t?" Samantha smirked, wiggling one of your lazily hanging toes. "With the amount of poo-poo and pee-pee this one can squirt out, her changes would take hours!" Dustings of powder tickle down with their giggles and side laughter, adding a thin fragrant coating between your legs. You do your best to ignore it, but cool teasing fingers spread the powder all over your diaper area then you hear loud crinkly rustling, and feel the firm press of your newest diaper pulled up tight. "Now we keep it nice and snug. Oh, no pun intended!" Samantha giggles. "These are adult Snuggies diapers. I'm so glad they make them for us. I find they work best for her." A few more giggles and sticky adhesives were required before Samantha finally helps you sit up, crinkling all the while against the counter as she takes your binky. "What do you say now sweetie? Oh, what was that...?” She cups her ear. “I'm sorry dear we couldn't quite hear you. Shouldn't you say something about your diaper? Remember? Use your words..." Finally you just break down and say it. "That's right!" Samantha cheers patronizingly. "Your diapey is all nice and changed thanks to her. We appreciate your gratitude." She returns your binky, pulls up your pants, and takes your hand thanking the woman herself and exchanging contact information before walking you back out to the car. Chapter 3 An industrial complex looms from your vantage point in the rear car seat. The car pulls up to a security gate and a guard steps out to meet you. Sam hands him her ID with a smile. He moves to check the back seat, and upon seeing you, smiles wickedly, hands your authorized CG her ID back and waves her through with a respectful salute. You feel the squish in your pants from your long trip and watch nervously as the car pulls into a parking space. You had fought the urge for as long as you could. You had your wits about you and so could fight, but one miss-timed bump in the road had left you gasping as you sprayed into your thirsty diaper. Sam knew those sounds well and had simply smirked into the rear view. Samantha gets out the of the front seat taking your diaper bag from the passenger and comes back to open up the door to unbuckle you. She keeps a firm grip on your hand as she walks you through large automatic doors and up into a reception area. "Ms. Withers, Welcome!" a beaming young professional greeted with a file folder in hand. She crouches down condescendingly to you. “And who is this? Y/N? They thought she'd be more trouble..." She teased suggestively with a knowing smile back up to your 'Mommy.' "Oh no trouble at all." Sam waved off the compliment. "In fact do you have a place where I can change her? She's always wet after her naps." "You've perfected that technique?" The receptionist asked with a hint of surprise. "She's only a few years younger than you...” She looks down, flipping open your file. “It says here she's soiling her diapers as she sleeps while under your direct influence. I must say, Ms. Withers, your progress is unprecedented." "It's the least I can do." Sam simpered. "It's my civic duty after all, and I've been working on ways to make it happen while she's awake too. That's what her types really need. Sure she can have accidents from what not, but it's more beneficial when she doesn't realize her diaper is, how we say, growing right out from under her.” She grinned down, shaking your hand a little at your shared, but obviously one-sided joke. ”I know certain treatments have been proposed,” she continued, “but I find we as the Caregivers lose too much control over them that way as well. It's so much better when the baby gets commanded. Isn't it honey?” She taps your hand. "I eventually want to be able to snap my fingers and I see her diaper droop, but I understand her kind have been a stubborn nut to crack and we are still a ways away from that ideal." The receptionist smiles. "And that is precisely why we've called you in today, Ms. Withers. We're hoping you can bring new innovations to our program. If you would just follow me,” she holds out her hand. “I'll lead you to one of our examination rooms where you can change her." A maze of stark corridors followed then a steel door was unlocked with the beep of a keycard to reveal a brightly decorated examination room obviously designed to embarrass bigger babies. ”Feel free to use the diapers provided.” The receptionist indicated the stacks. “And of course any of the changing supplies." She added Sam got right to work after expressing her thanks by unceremoniously tugging you up onto the room’s padded table for a change. Just as your nearly leaking diaper was being brought down the receptionist gave a little wave by the door. "Bye bye, Pottypants." She giggled. “Be good for Mommy, okay? I'll be back to check on you in a little while." Quick Note: I was considering reworking this to be a third person story. I'm happy to hear ideas! I almost always edit a few parts after posting.