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Hey-lo, and welcome to another new story of mine! Yes, I have a lot of them, seemingly, but this one stuck in my mind. Imagine a place where elves and dwarves exist alongside humanity, but in two separate cities for each kind, all across the countries of the world. Naturally, business and legal machinations and such play a huge role in this story, as do specific irl problems (gangs, poverty, etc.), so I will warn you on that front. Everything else comes secondary. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. So, with all of that said, do enjoy~ - Chapter One: Ocean Slalom - Remus Solarastarr was in the zone of the U.S. Olympic ocean slalom qualifier race. The twenty-one-year-old non-binary person had drowned out all noise, tensed at the sound of a firing gun to begin the race, the sport being a profession that they had been exceptional at for a long time. Ocean slalom was like a combination of swimming, track, and ski-slalom: hit all of the targets in the ocean area, all while competing against fellow athletes who were quite allowed to jostle for position and do everything except kill a fellow competitor. They loved it, especially since they were the only human who could potentially qualify to be on the Olympic team; the rest were mostly elves with a scattering of dwarves. Yeah, about that. Elves and dwarves lived in an area known as the “Two Cities”, just outside of Portland, Oregon. Two cities - Dawningshire for the elves and Duskenstoning for the dwarves - with their own laws and their own magical properties keeping the areas in perpetual morning and twilight, respectively. Remus had been born in Dawningshire to a human mother; their father was completely absent from their life. Due to…circumstances beyond their control, their mother was no longer allowed in either city, and they had been adopted by an elvish family. The same family - the powerful Equinox family, namely their adoptive mother, father, and siblings - was in the stands; they had seen them before the race. Quin was at the end of the finish line, hoping to see them. They owed their best friend everything; it was she who begged her family to take them in when they needed it instead of letting them go to an orphanage or - worse still - under the control of their mother. Cal, a dwarven friend, had managed to find the legal documents necessary for the adoption to happen. Quin. Cal. The best friends a human from the Two Cities could ask for. The gun fired, and the thirty competitors immediately leapt into the water, their forms changing into various animals, by using a powerful bit of magic native only to the Two Cities and others like them: a “familiar”, it was called. Of course, Remus, being born in Dawningshire, was the rare human with access to one themself: a hammerhead shark familiar. They felt the form absorb their clothes, muscularity increasing as their limbs twisted, their bones morphed into cartilage, and, most important of all, the fins and the tail. They thrashed their tail, feeling the water and oxygen surge through them, as they dodged a blow to the gills from a mako shark. Instantly, they knew who the mako was: Trix, from the famed Bellatrix family, and a hated rival to both Remus and the Equinox siblings. Trix had been a thorn in their side from elementary school on, a typical rich bitch who would gladly use the words, “Do you know who my parents are?!” to get her way - and she usually did get it; having both parents as the District Attorneys of West and East Dawningshire made her heiress to one of the most powerful positions in the elvish city. They ignored Trix, setting their keen underwater vision on the first gate - two poles that one had to pass through and hit to prove their time - as the rest of the competitors jockeyed for position, clearly in the back. They hit the pole with their tail at the same time as Trix, who immediately sped off for the second pole. They remained calm, even though Trix was ahead of them by a bit, even as a few other competitors came closer, including a dwarven sea dragon. They knew that the race was a testament to not just speed, but endurance, that Trix’s mako shark was blazing fast…but easily tired in her familiar; they had raced against her long enough, being from the same college, to know as much. Remus sped off towards the second gate that Trix had already hit, slapping it with their tail. Seventy-three left. The sea dragon had come a bit closer, trying to knock them out of the way of the third pole, but they hugged the dragon, nudging them ever so slightly, as they passed through the gate, barely managing to hit the right pole with their tail. Seventy-two. Now to put some distance ahead. Remus sped up, feeling the oxygen pass through their gills, as their muscles started to burn, seeing Trix ahead getting the next gate. The enby person felt a crash behind them vibrate through the water, as the sea dragon and a great white shark collided with each other, as they hit the next gate. Seventy-one. Gate after gate managed to go by in the blink of an eye until they reached the final ten, and they were tiring, their muscles screaming in pain, as they forced themselves forward. But Trix was clearly tiring as well, as they caught up to her. She snapped at Remus’s left fin with her fangs, and blood sprayed from the appendage as they stunned her with a simultaneous tail slap to her gills, not having any more time for her petty bullshit as they passed the first of the final ten - the longest gates. They ignored the blood pouring from their screaming fin, forcing their fins to maneuver towards the second of the ten, slapping the pole with their tail. Come on, just a bit more, just a bit more, and then it’ll be over. They forced their muscles, their gills, everything about them to get to the next pole, slapping it with their tail. Seven more, just seven more… Everything hurt, oh, God, it hurt like a bitch! But they would not be deterred, even as Trix came back, having recovered enough to regain second, although a tiger shark competitor (the races were magically fixed so that wildlife couldn’t come on the course by accident) was on them as well, driven by the scent of blood, as they passed the next gate at the same time as Trix. Six more. Fucking come at me! Trix tried to bite at their gills this time, and filled with a surge of anger - yes, let the fucking anger flow through you, and your journey towards the finish line will be complete! …Or something like that. - they slowed a touch as she missed, rammed into her with their head, knocking one of her fangs loose, and slapping her gills twice again as they passed her for good measure, as they hit the fifth-to-last gate. Half. Way. There… The action had caused the tiger shark to come close as they bit at Remus’s tail, but they flicked it aside for the tiger shark’s attack to miss, burning more and more energy than they felt they had ever burned before, feeling their blood pumping precious oxygen to their brain as they quickly sped away, hitting the fourth-to-last gate. Four. More. Gates… Trix, to her credit, had recovered, and Remus heard the tiger shark hiss in pain, as the Bellatrix heiress bit down on the tail before moving on to Remus again, as they both passed the gate with Remus ahead. Three. Just...three… Trix succeeded in biting down on Remus’s tail, and they let out a snarl, flicking the smaller shark aside, but otherwise ignoring her: if she wanted to attack the competitors more than complete the race, that was fine by them. Blood sprayed from their tail, but they ignored it, to pass through the next gate. Two…more… Trix finally seemed to get it through her stupid, bitchy head that she needed to finish the race, but Remus positioned themself to knock her away from the gate as they passed through it - which would cause the mako to lose precious seconds to the hammerhead. Finish line… The giant gate was there, and even though every muscle in Remus’s body was screaming for them to stop, they wouldn’t. No, they would not stop, not when they were so close. They put on a final burst of speed, the competitors flying behind them…as they passed the finish line first. They swam a bit in a lazy victory lap…before Trix bit them on the gills, obviously furious that they had caused her to come in second. They snarled angrily, shaking her off and turning to human form, bleeding from their chest, legs, and hand, their feminine swimsuit covering most of their body, as medical personnel quickly went over to Remus and used the various medicine supplies - invented by the elves - to clot the blood. “Racer One!” an elvish judge snapped, his pale skin gleaming in the sunlight, directing his anger towards the now-elf-formed Trix, who was giving Remus a horrible death-glare. “The race is over, so no more attacks are allowed on others! Five seconds will be docked from your time!” “But-” “Five seconds docked from Racer One’s time,” a dwarven judge - ironically not being short like the stereotyped dwarf, although his darkened, hardened skin showed himself as truly a dwarf - said calmly. Remus crawled onto the platform, feeling their wounds heal quickly, hearing the words, “Racer Twenty-seven, Mx. Remus Solarastarr of Dawningshire National Academy, is the winner of the competition! Coming in second place…” They barely heard the next few words, as Quin Equinox flung themselves into their 5’10” body in a giant hug, her pale green eyes literally glowing (as was custom with elves) with happiness and her long, white-blonde hair touching their damp tanned skin. “OHMYSPIRITS, I KNEW YOU’D DO IT, REMY!” she squealed like a giddy schoolgirl. “I’mma tell Cal everything, I watched the whole thing as much as I could-” “Easy, Quin,” Remus said with a blush, knowing that their best friend since childhood was the type who would be happy for them no matter what…only for them to blush further as they realized that only one thing that could happen to make the moment not-as-happy had happened. Their swim diaper had leaked, and Quin had noticed. “Hey, it’s all right. They’ll probably just want pictures, but we can get those later, you know?” she said, her eyes sympathetic to her friend’s plight. “Whatever, you fucking baby.” Trix’s voice came next. “I can’t believe anyone even wanted a baby like you, you fucking soulless piece of shit.” Quin let out a hiss, and Remus couldn’t blame her: not only did their families loathe each other on rivalry principle, but “soulless” was the biggest slur that could possibly be used in the elvish language, given their immense pride of spirits. “Hey, ignore her,” Remus said quickly, before they turned their hazel eyes on Trix, their damp long, curly-brown hair plastered to their body. “She’s just upset that a little human baby beat her, is all.” Trix couldn’t even sputter out an angry comeback, only settling for a grumble as she walked over to her family’s maid, an old, yet still tall and muscular African woman with graying hair, in angry silence. “Miss Equinox, Mx. Solarastarr, are you quite all right?” a posh Irish accent echoed. Remus sighed, knowing the Equinox family butler, Finbarr O’Mooney had come into the picture, as the old man looked at the African woman for just a moment before his calm light-gray eyes the same color as his hair appraised the situation. “I suppose a bit of privacy would be necessary?” “That would be lovely, thank you, Fin,” Quin said politely, as she and Remus got away from the situation. They walked over to the restroom door, the elf discreetly handing over a bag containing their normal clothes and a diaper for Remus to change into. “I’m sorry about Trix,” she said with a facade of calm before her anger spilled out. “She really is…ugh! I can’t stand that bitch…” “She’s just pissy because she hates the idea of a human beating her at anything,” Remus said, before gently closing the door for privacy. They sighed. Even since their…injuries, they had been unable to control anything about their bladder or bowels. It was a curse, but…well, that was life, right? They quickly got changed into the fresh clothes: a black T-shirt, a long, white pleated skirt, socks, sneakers, and - of course - the fresh diaper, while putting the dirty clothes in the bag, zipping it up. They exited the bathroom and prepared to meet the media. - Hope y'all enjoyed~

I wrote this story when I was a little drunk, it's not great but I like it. Let me know if this topic interests you If someone asked me how all this started, I wouldn’t know how to answer. I only know that one morning I woke up, and the bed was wet. Obviously, my mother was not happy at all; she spent the morning yelling at me. She couldn’t understand how an 18-year-old girl could wake up in a wet bed and have no idea why. I don’t really remember the feeling of a wet bed; I just know that by the fourth night of lying in my own urine, my mother brought home a pack of pull-ups. The pull-ups were pink and covered in heart-shaped patterns. They weren’t like regular underwear; they were padded but more discreet compared to what I wear now. I cried and yelled at my mom, refusing to wear them, but in the end, she was right: I had become a stupid girl who wet the bed. The first time I wore them, I was surprised by how comfortable they were and how they didn’t show under my pajama pants. The next morning, I woke up dry. I was happy, moving my legs under the sheets, but then my hand reached the new underwear. Pressing it, I felt the imprint of a cold liquid still soaking the cover. I got up with my heart in my throat. My pull-up was soaked. I didn’t even tell my mother; she already expected it. I simply took it off, threw it away, and got dressed for class. And so I quickly went through the first two packs of 10 pull-ups: it had become a routine. In the evening, I brushed my teeth, put on the pull-up, and wore my pajamas. I even stopped changing it immediately; sometimes I went straight to breakfast. The worst part was when I lost control during the day. At first, it was just a more urgent need to pee, then a few drops would come out, and eventually, I ended up wetting myself freely. My mother took me to all the doctors in the world, but none could give me an answer. In the end, she gave up and made me wear pull-ups during the day. Then came the summer holidays, between wet pull-ups and often failed bathroom runs. Summer arrived, and it was time for diapers. I still remember the first time I pooped in my pull-up: I was at lunch and felt a strange sensation in my butt. It was like an itch that disappeared as soon as I pushed. I spread my legs and without realizing it, I pushed everything into my pull-up. The most embarrassing part was that I was in front of my mother, who looked at me in shock. That was the last time I wore pull-ups. I still remember the first diaper I wore. Of course, my mother spanked me heavily to make me wear it. The diaper was childish, white with a parade of bears carrying crayons on the front. The diaper came up over my navel, tightened at the level of my pubis, and then widened at my butt. It was incredibly comfortable, I felt like I was hugged by a cushion. At first, when my mother wasn’t looking, I played by patting my butt, marveling at the fact that I didn’t feel anything. Over time, my continence worsened: I wet myself freely, often without noticing, finding the diaper soaked. For pooping, it was different: I knew when I was doing it but didn’t have much warning. Eventually, I gave up trying to run to the bathroom and simply stopped wherever I was, spread my legs, and filled my diaper. The only thing that consoled me was that I was home for the summer holidays. What changed was my relationship with my mother: at first, I changed myself, not too happily when I smelled, and she commented that I didn’t put the diaper on correctly. Then she started automatically fixing the diaper tabs, ignoring my annoyed face. Then she started coming into my room while I was changing to see if I was doing everything right. Finally, she made me lie down, and she changed me. To be honest, I wasn’t too opposed, after all, it was one less dirty job. The only problem was that she started checking if I needed a change. Eventually, I became dependent on her; I no longer monitored the state of my diaper, and if my mother didn’t change me, I would stay in a dirty one for hours. It must have been the summer heat, but eventually, I started going around the house with just a t-shirt and the diaper in view, my mother cleaning my dirty butt, so who cared. I giggled when I saw myself in the mirror. I liked how my butt would sag and wobble after wetting. I even stopped noticing the smell of a dirty diaper. Then came the changing table. My mom bought it and put it in my bathroom: it was like a cabinet, painted pink, with drawers to keep my supplies. There was a purple ladder I used to climb up, and on top, there was a white mattress. It was very comfortable; I climbed up, lay down, and my mother did everything. I soon learned the difference between day and night diapers: the night ones were thicker, and I could sleep without fear of leaking. I realized I actually needed diapers one day, during a change, when I peed without noticing. My legs were still open, and the clean diaper had just been placed under my butt. Luckily, my mother was quick enough to close the front part, waiting for me to finish. Then I started sucking my thumb; I don’t remember how it happened the first time, I just know it ended up in my mouth automatically when I slept or did homework. After the thumb came the pacifier, “better for your teeth,” my mother said. The first pacifier was white and pink with a bunny drawn on it. I sucked on it often, not because it was really necessary, but because it was a habit, like I needed it to feel good or calm down. Then came the bottle: I started spilling the contents of glasses on myself, and soon my mother placed a bottle in front of me at dinner. I didn’t object; I was too thirsty. Drinking from a bottle was completely different: I could carry it around, drink lying down, drink while playing and studying. But what was strangest was my relationship with the outside world and my friends. Nobody cared that I was in diapers, nobody cared if I messed up in the middle of a store while shopping. The same went for my friends; they treated me like it was all normal, like the pacifier and diapers were my normal. It was different from how a child is treated, no, mine was normal, as if I were a regular 18-year-old girl. None of my friends said anything if my diaper was soaked, none seemed to notice my words distorted by the pacifier in my mouth. When we went out for drinks, I was sure my friends got a glass while I got a bottle. Eventually, I stopped worrying that people would see my diaper, nobody cared anyway, sometimes I even went out with just a t-shirt and the diaper in view. I forgot almost immediately that diapers were not my classic garment until a few weeks ago, simply as my friend clara wore pink panties, I had a nice padded diaper, white with pink hearts. After the pacifier, after the bottle, came the baby clothes. I discovered that I liked dungarees, especially with shorts; I also liked the bulge that could be glimpsed between my pubes and my bottom: it had become my outfit for evenings. To stay at home I often wore rompers: I had all kinds, one more childish than the other, and then according to my mother it was easier to change if there were buttons on my bottom. Another fact to recount is the sleepover at Clara's house. I showed up about 7 p.m.: I was wearing my favorite dungarees, pacifier in my mouth and hair pulled back in pigtails. I had my diaper bag with the essentials with me. Clara opened the door and let me in, we stood in the living room watching TV series, eating popcorn and drinking lots of coke of course from my bottle Toward the end of the first season my diaper was heavily in danger of leaking. It was at that moment that Clara surprised me by saying: " do you want me to change your diaper?" I turned and looked at her surprised; I had always thought that only my mother knew. " yes, if possible," I said somewhere between a flicker of shame and insecurity. He took me by the hand and walked me to the bathroom where he made me lie down. I didn't know what to say, I was embarrassed at first but then I realized it wasn't that different from when my mother did it so I let go. We finished changing and went to the bedroom where we chatted for a while as if it was normal for my best friend to change my diaper. Then Clara asked a question that amazed me: "How does it feel to poop in a diaper?" I looked at her a little stunned. "Well, I first feel a sensation on my bottom, as if my diaper wanted me to do it, then I feel that I have to push I spread my knees and do. I feel when my body starts to empty. When the poop comes out of me I can feel it flowing inside the diaper, like it's very hot and then it settles there until they change me," I replied with a splash of honesty. "It sounds extra gross," said clara. Eventually the strange questions ended and we went to bed. And so it was that July came between messy diapers and drunk bottles. It was on my birthday that my mother let me find the high chair: it was white, with two wooden dumbbells, one on the right, one on the left, and on one side, the seat was padded, white, like the small table that lowered over my legs. I didn't know what to say, the only thing I did was wet my diaper, strangely enough.... But my mother seemed so enthusiastic, so I indulged her. The feeling of being in a high chair is strange but I will try to describe it : the high chair is a taller chair and my legs are dangling, the padding is great, always to be on a cloud. The coffee table is lowered under my chest is comfortable because it is close and I don't get dirty with food What I learned after settling down is that diapers and high chairs are connected, if I wasn't padded and had to run to the potty I wouldn't get there in time. The only downside is that I have to depend on my mother to pass me the dishes and the baby bottle Then I felt a new instinct: why not eat with my hands? I couldn't resist, took the oatmeal and smeared it in my mouth, getting it all over me. "Baby but you are making everything dirty," my mother said, and she fastened a bib around my neck: it was white and had colorful dots. It took me two or three seconds before I realized it was there because I was getting dirty, I continued to eat as if nothing was wrong. Quick napkin wipe and diaper change and I was ready for the day. And here a question arises: why don't you rebel against what is in fact a regression? I don't have any answers: I never thought about it, it is simply becoming part of my life, after all, I don't even think I know more things a potty from the grown-ups. Another change that I didn't initially notice was my desire to play, it grew incredibly: as soon as I had the chance I would swing into my little room playing with my dolls. The homework period was getting shorter and shorter. And then my mother told me that I would change schools: it would be a more suitable school for me. I still remember my first day: I was wearing a T-shirt, a skirt that obviously did not hide the diaper. What I did not realize at first was that it was a kindergarten. The teacher came up to us. "Hey little one, that's nice." "How come you don't wear a uniform?" " I don't..." I found out later that the uniform was a T-shirt with the kindergarten logo and that the pants did not exist. Then again, they had to know when I was due for a change. On a positive note, the girls all wore the same kind of diaper: a white pink one with a rabbit drawn on it. The average age was roughly 2-3 years but I was immediately accepted as one of them. After all, there wasn't too much difference. The day in kindergarten was divided like this: From 8 to 10:30 a.m. free play Diaper change until 11 a.m. 11-12:30 lunch 12:30-3:00 p.m.: lecture Diaper change and nap and then at 5 p.m. my mother would come and pick me up. I don't remember the day very much, the first time I went home almost angry, I wanted to keep playing. Perhaps the only flaw was the diaper changes: in front of all the other girls, they would make me lie down and then change me. But I soon realized that no one cared what I was up to in my diaper. And so I began to live a dual life: until 5:30 p.m. as a child, from 6 p.m. with my adult friends. In school I had a new best friend, her name was anna and she was 3 years old. Soon the days passed and became weeks and then months. Without realizing it I lost the ability to read and write, now barely knowing how to spell my name. The only activity where I picked up a pencil was to color the drawings the teachers gave me Then I lost my big friends who were replaced by kindergarten friends. I don't know how old I am anymore and I don't care. I became a little girl who churns out stinky diapers and sucks her finger, kind of like anna and I like that. THE END Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story. Remember to leave a like! If you enjoy my writing and want to read more, check out my Risma account where you'll find all my stories and the new ones I'm working on. https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon

The following is a PREVIEW of a brand new story that you can find on my subscriber pages. I have 35 stories available for subscribers that are available nowhere else and you can read all of them RIGHT NOW if you subscribe at the $10 tier or higher. Writing is my only form of income and all the money I make from it goes towards helping with bills, groceries and other expenses. It means the world to me to have people who enjoy and support what I do, without their support I simply would not be able to spend my time writing. I want to tank everyone who subscribes to me and everyone who checks out my latest story! Thank you ❤️ https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy --- A truck roared past Tina, shaking the car she was sitting in gently as the wind buffeted her. She blinked a couple of times and looked around with confusion. She was parked at a small service station on the short part of the highway that connected Sunny Days Retirement Centre with her home. “How did I…” Tina trailed off as she looked around. She felt groggy and strange. The last thing Tina remembered was sitting at the Retirement Centre. It felt like she had blinked and when her eyes opened, she was in her car miles away from where she had been before. She checked her phone and saw that several hours had passed. She’d zoned out before whilst working but she’d never experienced lost time quite like that. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember anything that had happened for quite some time. Tina shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It felt like something was missing and that its absence was making her uneasy. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, as she tried to think hard about how she had ended up there or why it felt like she should have something around her butt she subconsciously brought her thumb up to her mouth. It had already passed her lips before she realised what she was doing. She quickly pulled it out, staring at her hand as if it was operating on its own accord, when she noticed that she had a deep yearning to put it back in her mouth. “I’m just tired…” Tina said to herself, “It’s been a long day pretending to be nice to those old people, I need to go home and rest.” But no matter how much Tina tried to ignore how she was feeling or explain away the weird cravings she couldn’t pretend like she didn’t want something to fill her mouth. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t feel like she should be sitting on something like a pillow. It made no sense to her and yet it fully occupied in mind. She tried to start driving but it was like her mind wouldn’t let her concentrate on anything until at least one of these conditions were met. Tina put her thumb back in her mouth. As soon as she did so it became that much easier to concentrate on what she had to do to get home. Thankfully the car was an automatic so driving one-handed wasn’t an impossibility. She turned the key to turn the engine on and then pulled out to continue on the journey home. The lack of material around Tina’s waist was still distracting her and she kept shifting in her seat as if it would help. She sucked on her thumb in concentration as the car rolled down the highway. Normally she would drive as quickly as she felt she could get away with, it’s how she had ended up with so many speeding tickets, but now she was travelling well under the speed limit as she tried her best to just get home. She would blush every time she was passed and saw a bewildered driver looking into her car to see the thumb-sucking woman. “Just get home… Just get home…” Tina mumbled around her thumb as drool dripped down her chin. People stared as they passed. Tina tried to keep her eyes straight ahead but it was difficult to ignore the way she was stared at. She was nearly off the highway when she saw blue lights illuminate her car. She looked up into the rearview mirror to see a police car right behind her. “Oh crap.” Tina mumbled. She pulled over and took her thumb out of her mouth. Almost immediately her brain was telling her she needed to put it back in. Looking in the wing mirror, Tina could see the police officer walking up to her car. She was gripping the steering wheel extra hard just to prevent her brain from sticking one of her thumbs in her mouth. It was like she was addicted. “License and registration please.” The officer said as he approached the window. Tina leaned over to the glove compartment. As she did so she became acutely aware of how something was missing. That pillow she felt like she should have between her legs became something she craved. Retrieving her documents she handed them to the officer who looked through them. “Is… Is there a problem?” Tina asked. “You were driving a little slowly back there.” The officer replied, “I wanted to make sure everything was alright.” “Oh, I’m fine.” Tina lied with a smile, “Never better.” “Alright, well, let me just go and check a few things on the computer, OK? Sit tight.” The officer said as he went back to his squad car. Tina drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She wanted nothing more to put her thumb back in her mouth. She didn’t understand it. She’d never had such a strange oral fixation before and yet now she couldn’t stop thinking about sucking on something. Her leg was shaking as she looked in the mirror. The officer was in his squad car talking into his radio. Tina tried to resist the cravings. She tried to think of other things but as soon as she convinced her brain to think about something else it simply settled on the other craving, the need to be sat on something, to feel it wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t even begin to work out what it was she wanted or where the need had come from. She glanced in the mirror again. Still, the officer was sitting in his car. The desire to stick her thumb in her mouth was only growing. Tina thought that maybe she should do it right then, whilst she was alone. If she could satisfy the craving it would be easier to think and she could get home as soon as possible. She was starting to think she might need to call a doctor, something very strange seemed to be happening to her. Unable to resist Tina stuck a thumb out and pushed it into her mouth. She very quickly felt some of the agitation leaving her and she slumped slightly in the seat. It was like a drug. When she didn’t have it, she could think of nothing else but as soon as the craving was satisfied, she was able to relax. She closed her eyes and a small smile curled the corners of her lips. “Ma’am?” The officer appeared back at the window. Tina was startled as she opened her eyes and looked up the policeman standing at her door. He was looking down at her and frowning. She belatedly pulled her thumb out of her mouth as her cheeks blushed red. “Everything seems to be in order.” The officer said somewhat slowly, “Are you sure everything is OK?” “Y-Yes, sir.” Tina replied, “It’s just been a bit of a long day.” “Right…” The officer took a second to get his professionalism back, “OK, well, you may not realise this but driving as slowly as you were can be as dangerous as speeding, alright? It’s difficult for cars behind you to judge your speed.” “Yes, officer.” Tina said. “Alright, you go ahead and have a good evening.” The officer finally finished as he handed Tina her documents back. Tina couldn’t wait to get away from there. As soon as the officer went back to his car, she rolled up her window and started driving again. The policeman followed her for a little bit and Tina made sure to keep up with traffic. Thankfully the squad car soon pulled out from behind her and overtook the car as it carried on down the road. The whole time she had resisted sucking her thumb, not wanting the cop to think she needed to be talked to again. With a sigh of relief, Tina stuck her thumb back in her mouth. Like a smoker getting some nicotine it seemed like just what she needed. Tina turned off the highway at the next exit and carried on back to her house in the leafy suburbs. Pulling into her driveway, Tina was forced to take her digit out from between her lips as she carried her bag inside. She went straight to the living room and dropped on to the couch. As Tina tried to sort out her thoughts, the bag, which she had placed on the edge of the table tipped over and fell to the floor. She closed her eyes as she sucked on her thumb and tried to remember what had happened in the hours that had gone missing. She had been sitting at her table, bored out of her mind, when three women had approached her… after that it was blank. The next thing she remembered was sitting in her car halfway home. Hours had gone missing and she had no idea what had happened, only that she now had this weird obsession with filling her mouth and a need to wrap something around her waist. An idea hit Tina and she quickly stood up. She nearly tripped over the strap of her bag that was hanging over the edge of the table as she went quickly towards the door. She went out into the laundry room where she found a basket of clothes she hadn’t yet put in the washing machine. She dug through it until she felt a towel and pulled it out, scattering some of her clothes on the floor. After some fumbling Tina had managed to wrap the large towel around her waist and tucked the middle up between her legs. She felt the craving for bulk between her thighs drop slightly, though it was still there. It would do for now until she could work out what was happening. Tina went back to the living room with the intention of picking up her phone to call the doctor when she spotted something odd. On the floor was a VHS tape. She hadn’t seen one since she was a child and had certainly never owned one. It must’ve fallen out of her bag when it tipped over. She bent down and picked it up. The white label on top simply said “Watch Me.” “The hell?” Tina said as she picked the tape up, “Who even has a VHS player these days?” Tina thought she was out of luck but there was a lot of junk in the garage. Boxes of stuff from when her parents had passed away that she hadn’t sorted through yet. Waddling awkwardly, with one thumb in her mouth and the other holding up the towel she went out the backdoor towards the garage. “Morning, Tina.” Jeff, Tina’s next-door neighbour shouted over the fence. Tina froze. When she looked to the side, she saw Jeff had been watering his flowers. Now he was looking over the boundary between their two backyards with a confused expression. Tina couldn’t blame him. She hurriedly pulled the thumb out of her mouth and let the towel go as if that in any way might obfuscate what had already been seen. “H-Hello, Jeff.” Tina called out as casually as she could manage, “L-Lovely weather we’re having.” Jeff didn’t reply. Tina quickly carried on to the garage whilst doing her best to suppress the need to start sucking her thumb again. Once in the privacy of her garage she looked around at the boxes which were piled high against the walls. She sighed and started looking through them. In the end, she was very lucky. In just the fourth box she checked she found an old VHS player with the leads still attached. Tina picked it up and hurried back to her house. She didn’t slow down to see if she was still being watched by curious neighbours, she imagined Jeff would be back indoors telling his wife about her strange behaviour. Once back in her living room, Tina hooked up the VHS player to her television and then picked up the tape. She slowly pushed it into the slot and then pressed the play button. For a second nothing happened, but then the screen switched from the cooking show that had been on to a very different scene altogether. “What the fu-…” Tina started to exclaim. She covered her mouth in shock and then slowly lowered it as she took in everything on the screen in front of her. “Hello, Miss. Hinchcliffe. Do you remember me? My name is Wendy.” Tina needed the reminder. She didn’t remember the name of anyone she had met that day, “I’m sure, if you’re watching this, you’ve been having an interesting little time. Don’t worry, dear, all will become clear.” Tina was sat on the floor staring at the TV without being able to comprehend what was happening. Someone must’ve been holding the camera as it now panned from the old lady’s face to the floor behind her. Tina covered her mouth as she let out a little scream. She was sitting on one of the couches in the very room her stall had been set up in earlier that day, stripped of all but her underwear as a group of old people joked and watched on. “Th-This can’t be real!” Tina gasped to no one in particular. The video kept moving forwards with the occasional artifacts seen on old VHS tapes. Tina saw herself sitting on the couch in front of all these old men and women with a distant look in her eyes and a vacant smile on her lips. One of the older women whom she recognised was sat next to her with a strange spiral disk, even watching it on the tape made Tina start to feel somewhat drowsy. “Do you remember, Marge?” Wendy asked as she pointed the camera at the person holding the spiral disk, “Did you know she used to be a stage hypnotist?” Tina’s eyes were wide open. Was this what had happened to her in those missing hours? “We’ll need to give her a sponge bath, of course.” Another older woman said. Wendy turned the camera to another elderly woman. Another of the people who had been sat in front of her table earlier that day, “Don’t worry, Tina, I’m a retired nurse. I don’t imagine you’ll remember but my name’s Harriett, young people like you never bother to remember our names, right?” “Look how young she is!” An older man’s voice called out from somewhere in the crowd, “She’s just a baby!” “Funny you should say that…” Wendy’s voice was coming from behind the camcorder now. It seemed she was the one filming, “Get a pad down underneath her.” Tina watched the screen as her past self stood up compliantly and what looked like several puppy pads was put all over the couch. Tina gasped as Hariett hooked her fingers under Tina’s panties. They came down to wolf-whistles and catcalls from the surrounding crowd. Present Tina’s eyes were filling with tears at the humiliation. It was far from over though. Tina’s bra came off next leaving her small perky breasts to drop slightly. Soon she was completely naked. As she watched the scene unfolding on the TV her thumb found its way back into her mouth, she sucked on it subconsciously, desperate to feel some soothing feelings. She pulled the towel tighter against herself. “Hariett, you know what to do.” Wendy said. Her voice became distorted for a moment. Tina saw the old nurse walk off screen leaving her staring at Marge and what she now realised was happening to her. She’d been hypnotised. It felt impossible, she had never believed in all that mumbo-jumbo and yet she couldn’t deny what she was seeing. Part of her wanted to turn the video off right away but she couldn’t, she had to know what these elderly people had done to her. Hariett returned to the screen with a blue bucket. Tina stared uncomprehendingly at how she just sat and smiled whilst completely naked. She willed the version on herself to get up and run away but she just looked around with glassy eyes as if she was happy to be there. “Everyone, feel free to join in!” Hariett called out, “I brought enough for everyone!” Tina didn’t immediately know what the old woman meant. That was until she saw people taking wet sponges out of the bucket. She whined and felt her humiliation growing as she was sponged down by these old men and women. She could hear the comments they made about her body, as if she was just some toy or doll to be played with. She shivered, shivers ran up and down her body as if she could feel what she was seeing on the screen. “You’re so young…” Wendy said as she zoomed the camera in on Tina’s face, “And yet you think you can come and tell us what to do?” The Tina with her thumb in her mouth whined in embarrassment. She watched as sponges were rubbed on her arms, her legs, her breasts and everything else. It felt impossible that she wouldn’t remember anything. She wondered if it was somehow manipulated footage but that seemed almost more unlikely than the hypnotism she was watching. “You should always listen to your elders.” Marge said. Her voice was soft and dreamlike. She was still letting that pendulum swing back and forth, “You should never talk back to them.” Even as Tina watched the tape, she realised she was nodding in agreement and quickly stopped herself. She felt a shiver go down her spine, she was starting to realise just how vulnerable she had been. It wasn’t just the fact that she was naked, it was also the fact that she had been manipulated. Anything could’ve been done to her mind and she could only watch the tape to find out. “She’s very cute though.” Hariett commented, “Like a newborn baby.” The pad that had been placed beneath the Tina on the screen was getting wetter and wetter as the water from the sponges dripped down over her body. The whole time it was happening, the several excruciating minutes, was filled with these elderly people making jokes and comments about how she was just a silly a little girl. When it finally ended, the sponges were dropped into the bucket again. Tina saw herself still sitting on the sofa with the same vacant smile. Every time someone had moved her arm or leg she had held it out until someone moved it back to its resting position. To have her dignity and free-will so easily stolen terrified her. The worst part was that she knew this wasn’t the end of it. The need to have something wrapped around her waist and her thumb sucking still hadn’t been explained. Tina pressed pause on the VCR. She didn’t feel like she could watch any more. The more she saw the worse it was. She didn’t want to know what those evil women had done and yet she felt compelled to see more. There was no way she could carry on with this desperate need to fill her mouth, just imagining trying to work with these new compulsions made her want to hide away forever. She had to imagine there was an answer to her problems in the video. “Alright, I think she’s as clean as she’s going to get.” Wendy called out from behind the camera. Tina, the one watching the television, saw the camera turn around to point at Wendy’s sneering face. It looked like she was greatly enjoying humbling the younger woman. Tina felt a shiver go down her spine. “Keep watching.” Wendy said, “You’ll love this next part.” Tina swallowed nervously as the camera turned back around to face her strangely absent form on the couch. The towels that had been drying her were pulled away and there was activity from off to the side of the screen. Tina could see the crowd of elderly people moving to let someone through. She was terrified of what was coming. “We have to keep the little girl safe and sound.” Wendy called out to general laughter, “Luckily, she came here. There’s plenty of experience in raising children in this room!” Tina didn’t understand. She clearly wasn’t a child; she was almost thirty! Sure, that may have been less than half the age of most of the baying mob surrounding her but she wasn’t some kid that had got lost and wandered into the retirement centre! Tina’s cell phone suddenly rang making her jump. She fumbled with the remote until she pressed the pause button, the screen freezing on an image of her vacant eyes looking at something just off camera. “Hewwo?” Tina suddenly realised she still had her thumb in her mouth and quickly pulled it out, “Ahem, hello?” “Tina? Is everything OK?” Mr. Harrison asked. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Tina said quickly. She wondered if a copy of this tape had found its way to her boss or something. “You were supposed to call when you were leaving Sunny Days.” Mr. Harrison reminded her. “Oh, damn, sorry…” Tina shook her head, “Sorry, I’ve been, erm, distracted.” As Tina spoke, she lowered the volume on the TV until it was almost muted and then pressed play. She stared at the screen hoping an answer to what was going on would appear before her. Already she was feeling desperate to put her thumb back in her mouth. “There were no problems then?” Mr. Harrison asked. “No, none at all…” Tina replied. On the screen she watched as Hariett bent her arm and forced her thumb into her mouth to the delight of the crowd. Tina came to the sudden realisation that as she watched herself do it on the screen, she had slipped her digit back between lips as well. She pulled it out quickly leaving some drool to drip on to her chin. “Did you get any signups?” Mr. Harrison asked. “I, erm…” Tina wasn’t really listened. The crowds were looking at something excitedly and a box was being brought forwards. Tina frowned as a pink mat was taken out of the box and laid on the floor. Her past self, naked on the couch, watched on with an indifferent smile. Tina wished she would get up and get out of there but she wouldn’t budge an inch. All she knew was that as she looked at the screen and saw the box, she felt the need to have something thick wrapped her waist grow uncontrollably. A small tub was taken out of the box and placed on the ground next to it. Then a packet of something that looked like tissues and a plastic bag. Tina continued watching almost as hypnotised by what she was seeing as the naked version of herself on the screen. Hariett reached into the box one final time… “Tina? Hello?” Mr. Harrison said. “I’m here, I just…” Tina muttered slowly. Her eyes were transfixed on the screen as she saw the old nurse lift her arm. Tina gasped loudly. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Mr. Harrison asked. “I’ll… I’ll call you back.” Tina said vaguely. With Mr. Harrison still trying to speak to her, Tina hung up the phone and let it drop beside her. The colour drained from her face as she saw a diaper get lifted out of the box. She shook her head but it was starting to make sense. The feeling she had of needing something thick around her waist… On the screen, at the apparent instruction of Marge, Tina stood up and then laid down on the changing mat without any hesitation. Tina turned the volume back up. The diaper that Hariett held was allowed to fall open to the cheers of the crowd who seemed to be loving this change from their usual schedule. Tina’s naked hips compliantly lifted when she was tapped a couple of times on her thigh and the disposable being slipped underneath her. Tina fumbled for the remote and turned the volume up again. She was hearing the voices of the people in the crowd now. They were treating the whole thing like some sort of show or performance and the old women at the centre of it were playing right into it. “Do we think this is thick enough?” Wendy called out from behind the camera. “No!” “Double them up!” “Make it so she has to crawl!” The suggestions were shouted out to laughter from everyone else. Tina watched the screen wondering if there was a single person there with compassion. She wondered where the nurses and staff were. How could all of this have gone unnoticed!? “You heard them.” Wendy said with a laugh. “When we’re finished...” Marge said in that strangely soft voice, “You’ll ALWAYS want thick padding between your legs.” The Tina watching the screen gulped as she felt the need for more padding grow. The towel wasn’t enough. She realised that even as she was watching the hypnosis was being reinforced. She wondered if it would’ve been better to turn the tape off but she had to know what happened to her, she had to know if there was a cure for whatever was going on somewhere in there. On the screen, a second and then a third diaper were taken out of the box. Tina couldn’t believe what she was seeing as, yet again, her crotch raised compliantly in the air allowing the unfolded diapers to be stacked on top of each other. “Stop it!” Tina yelled to herself in frustration, “Get out of there!” With each diaper added to the stack underneath her naked butt on the screen, Tina, watching the screen, felt a need to have more thickness between her legs too. She pulled the towel closer and, when that wasn’t enough, she grabbed a couple of cushions from the couch and sat on them, squeezing their softness between her legs. Anything to recreate the feeling. Her brain constantly demanding more. “Don’t forget the powder and cream!” Someone yelled out. “Ooh, yes, we wouldn’t want the baby to get a rash, would we?” Wendy said. She’d moved forwards and was giving an almost bird’s eye view of the action. Tina watched the television as cream was rubbed all over her intimate parts. She brought her hands up to her head in humiliation at what had been done to her. Then the powder was sprinkled liberally all over her crotch and the open diapers. They must’ve used half the container before they were satisfied. The first diaper was lifted up and taped into place. Then the second one followed. The third was a bit of a stretch but they managed to get it on the pliant woman shortly afterwards. With each new layer the Tina watching the screen squeezed the cushions more tightly between her legs. “Oh, we mustn’t forget… this.” Wendy said as the camera pointed down to show her going through her pocket. Tina saw a pacifier get pulled out. She felt her pulse quicken and, in response to just seeing the object she felt her mouth salivating. Drool leaked out of the corners of her mouth and down her chin as she stuck her thumb in her mouth, barely aware of her own actions. On the screen the freshly diapered Tina had the pacifier pressed between her lips to the delight of the onlookers. Tina squeezed the cushions between her legs tighter and sucked on her thumb. She hadn’t thought there would be any explanation for how she had woken up but now she had actually seen what had happened she was left stunned. She had never believed in hypnotising or anything like that but the evidence was right there in front of her, on the screen and still clearly effecting her strongly. “This is just the start of our fun.” Wendy said with a big smile as the camera turned to her face and focused slightly, “We’ve got quite some plans for you this afternoon.” --- If you enjoyed this and want to see the full 15,000+ word story RIGHT NOW you can do so at the following links. The full story contains more humiliation, more diapers and more lack of control! Thank you so much for supporting me and allowing me to do what I love ❤️ https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1481760 https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/m0uav3ey4z

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Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! I just want to say welcome back and that I am looking forward to completing this story. Pretty much as soon as I wrote the previous story, How an Elephant Saved Their Little, I came up with most of this plot. I will attempt to explain certain elements, but I expect that some background elements may be rushed or explained later, which could be confusing for some of you newer readers. Also, as it will be following a Big, some elements might be a little different than other DD stories, but if what I’ve seen on here is anything to go by, I think you all should enjoy a lot of the elements involved. Moving on, I’ve been watching the Olympics lately. Considering all that is happening in Paris right now, with my excitement in watching, there is a part of me that feels I should have at least included my DD Olympic story in the last poll. Still, I am still happy with writing this story and I have yet another idea for a story. As a future note though, I will probably include the original Olympic story in the long future (2026 at the earliest I’m guessing) at this point, but I’ll have plenty of stories until then as long as you all keep reading them. Next, speaking of the future, I will be trying an online poll for the voting of my next story. If I’ve set it up correctly, there should only be one vote per IP address. I will likely shut down the poll or delete it entirely once I have posted the results in the final chapter of this story as usual, but until then, I’m using this as a bit of a test going forward. It should be completely anonymous, so I think that will help garner more votes than before. Expect this to be included with the second chapter, which should be posted tomorrow or the day after. Also, as a bit of a side note here, I might be retconning something, but I don’t think I am in saying that the location for this story is in their version of Indianapolis. I have looked through all my notes, and due to my inclusion of ‘Queens Island’ in my previous story, I know it’s at least in that general area (being a few hours car drive away as mentioned in chapter 13), but I can’t seem to find an actual city name. I will fully admit that I wasn’t as organized back then with the locations in Libertalia, so it could be an oversight… like how I don’t mention a location in The CON series and retconned why later. I will investigate this much more thoroughly after my upcoming trip, but I just wanted to at least put that out there in case someone caught something that I haven’t at this point. Last but not least, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this next story! Chapter 1: Sheets Bearing Marks of the Past Mildred and I were helping our precious Littles with their own bags to go to daycare tomorrow. The day would come early and between diaper changes, getting each of them dressed, and then out the door and into our van to take them to daycare, it would be enough of a challenge. At the task’s base, it was like wrestling with twitchy cute puppies. As a carer of the Littles under my charge, I performed my duties and remarked upon their cuteness, but that didn’t make the tasks any easier. Further, though, I had two other factors that kept my Littles more challenging than was usual in most cities of Libertalia. First, most had been regressed recently and were still coping with their losses from who they used to be. It’s hard to blame a Little for being upset of pooping helplessly in their diapers now when they might have once commanded a fleet of ships or walked down the runway in a gorgeous dress. Second, and more important to Safehouse 81 though, nearly every Little under my charge had been affected by some tragedy or had faced an abuse of some kind in their past. After all, being a safehouse for Littles in this type of society, we had to expect those sorts of residents under our roof. It was tragic, but we made sure each of our Littles were kept safe, were healthy, and knew they were cared for at the end of the day. Mildred and Penelope helped me out with them about as much as they could. Admittedly, of the two full-time employees here, Mildred helped to a lesser degree due to her Middle size, but Penelope more than made up for that and was essentially my second in command around here. She had already lightened my burdens recently by forming an attachment with Willy, a recently arrived Little who was escaping troubles of his own. Traumatized from his past and with only a stuffed animal, Tusk, to help ease his mind, I was glad he was feeling that relief here now at least. “Mildred,” I addressed to my shorter assistant currently stuffing Gina’s backpack, “make sure that she gets the ham sandwich without the crusts. She’s still particular about those kinds of things and the last thing we need to put on the daycare now is another tantrum from her if she... changes again like she did last week.” “Right, right. Definitely don’t want that,” she nodded back to me. “And the veggie chips instead of the nacho cheese ones, right?” I nodded and smiled over her increased awareness over the individual needs of the Littles under our care. She was still a prospective member of the staff, but her instincts were strong, and she had a good heart. Gina was spacing out again, experiencing one of her changes, a sad reminder of her own regression process, so now it was mostly up to Mildred to finish packing her bag and I was glad that she was taking to her tasks so well now. For the multiple backpacks I was packing, I finally looked down at Harry, continually perched and curious at the edge of the table where I was working. “Okay, champ… carrots or cucumbers tomorrow?” I wanted to give my Littles as many options in life as I could. Daily items or events like diapers and naptimes were non-negotiable under my roof if I deemed them necessary, but where was possible, I tried to give where I could. “Ummm… cawwots, pwease.” I smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. I was trying to instill manners in him after he came here over a month ago now. It had taken a lot of my patience, but coming from a Little smuggling operation, I couldn’t blame him for being a little blunt and rough around the edges. Still, he was making quick progress lately and I made a mental note to give him an extra cracker tomorrow when he got home from daycare if he wanted it. “Very good, Harry.” I turned over to Gina and wondered how the other Littles were doing upstairs. They were more regressed, but I still wanted to give them their options for tomorrow at daycare while they were likely still awake and playing with their babyish toys. Still, it was getting late, so I tapped Gina on the shoulder to try and get her out of her mental fog. “Gina? You in there, sweetie?” Gina turned around and grinned at me, her curly blonde hair twirling about as she did so, and her few missing teeth becoming rapidly apparent. She had been pulled out of the regression facility before they could truly deform her like her abusive original caregivers wanted, but the facility’s marks and effects on her mentality were still painfully obvious, especially when she was in this state. “Gina… do you wanna pick out the story tonight before bed?” I questioned further, now that I had her attention as best I could. Gina rapidly nodded her head up and down. “Uh huh! Maybe da pwincess one?” Her enthusiasm was near electric and contagious, but it still burdened my heart to see her like this. Working with her here and at the daycare, her incidents like these had dropped significantly, but it still hurt to witness when they did pop up. When she wasn’t in this regressed near-fugue state, her speech was unaffected and she held herself in an almost dignified way… or at least as dignified one could get while always holding her stuffed Octopus, Mindy. I had learned long ago to never try and remove Mindy from her arms. In a way, it just added to the tragedy of her story, a sadly familiar one that I had grown accustomed to over the years. Regardless, I was glad she had at least made a choice tonight. It would make her happy and that was my job here. Keep my Littles safe and happy. “Very good. I’ll make sure we read the one with Princess Lavendar tonight. I think she’s going to meet the gnome king and become the best of friends with him. Doesn’t that sound fu…?” The windows burst inward as two small black and shimmery objects were launched through them. Glass shattered and covered the floor. I immediately tried to grab Harry, Gina, and Mildred, but I was too late. The two blasts rocketed the whole house. More glass fell and I became dazed as men in black soon breached the house with a tremendous smash of my front door. The filed in one at a time and surrounded everyone as they knocked over furniture to clear their path. A single cabinet had fallen and partially blocked their way to the back kitchen though. Still, they then wasted no time and began hauling everyone together, upstairs and down. Even through my daze, I could see that one of them, likely the leader from the directions he issued out, had a very distinct snake tattoo crawling up one of their arms. I wanted to fight back, but I just felt nauseous, and my head felt like it was about to pop. Then, before I knew what hit me, that same tattooed man was pulling me to my feet. “You. We’re looking for this Little.” He shoved a picture in my face. It was a little blurry, but I quickly recognized it as snapshot of Willy with his stuffy. When I didn’t answer immediately, he shook the picture harder in front of my face and snarled at me. “We know he’s here from your database registration. Where is he?” Willy was new here, but he was now one of mine. I had made an oath to every one of my Littles and to the state that no matter what, I would protect these innocent smaller beings with my life. Being the leader of a safehouse often meant staring down the long barrel of threats from those who wished to do the residents here any harm. Such was the prejudice and malice of our world. Today however, was the first time a safehouse had been smashed into. Considering the high number of penalties against these men if they were ever caught, that wasn’t surprising, but regardless, my task remained the same. Keep my Littles safe. So, taking a deep breath and easing my nerves and getting ready for what was likely to come against me consequently, I straightened up, and looked at the man with the snake tattoo with about as much defiance as I could. “Those records are sealed. Only an admin or cop can access those, but anyway, the Little doesn’t look familiar.” My head lashed out at me, and the lights all seemed about 80% too bright from some reason, but I knew I had to keep up my defiance. Smashing the safehouse’s front window like that had set off a silent alarm. Help was on its way, but I still needed to play for more time now. “Hard to recall with the pounding in my head. You wouldn’t have done something naughty like that to a bunch of innocent Littles, would you?” I couldn’t help but taunt these men. If caught, I knew their punishments would be far worse than anything they could do to me. I had a few friends in the justice department, and I heard the rumors like everyone else. Dark Cliff Prison was a hole that every lost cause Little and every substantial criminal Big feared and never wanted to go to. For criminals like these, breaking into a safehouse was a one-way ticket right to their front door. Instead of pure rage as I had suspected though, the tattooed man gritted his teeth, groaned ever so slightly, and defiantly forced the picture in front of my face again. “I won’t ask you again. Where is he?” Before I could deny him again, I thought I heard a small groan coming from the kitchen. Not seeing either in the lineup of the resto f the safehouse in front of me, Willy and Penelope were in there still, and considering this tattooed man wanted him, likely dead or alive, I knew I only had one choice. So, hoping to press for more time and just hating the man on general principle, I looked back defiantly at the intruder to my house. “Screw you.” My words were direct and uncompromising. I had no intention of telling him where Willy was. With any luck, Willy would flee out the back. He was a Little, and that could be problematic, but he seemed to have some sort of strange luck or guardian angel on his side whenever trouble seemed to find him. Whatever the case truly was though, I just hoped they were with him tonight. The tattooed man didn’t take kindly to my blunt refusal of his question though and my insult of him after either. All at once, with one strike, his fist slammed into the side of my face. I fell to the ground. As I collapsed, Harry, Gina, and a few of the other Littles they were now gathering around me downstairs shrieked in terror. “Get the brats upstairs now!” the tattooed man commanded his men. “Lock ‘em in and hit ‘em with the smoke.” Four of his six goons nodded and at gunpoint, forced all my terrified Littles upstairs along with Mildred. They still weren’t looking in the kitchen, so I at least knew that Penelope or Willy was okay and moving around to escape. While the main tattooed man watched over me, his gun pointed right at my head as I managed to perch myself back on my knees, I began to try and figure a way out of this. Moments later though, even after thinking of a half dozen or so escape plans, my mind just couldn’t think straight, as I could hear the bang of a door and then a faint hiss coming from upstairs. A few tiny screams were soon muffled silent. Soon after, the men came back downstairs, alone. “Is it done?” the tattooed man asked insistently. “Yes, sir!” one of them answered quickly. “The Littles are locked away and the gas has been deployed. In such a confined space, they’re all out and memories of tonight will only be foggy at best.” “Good.” Seemingly satisfied that the majority of the house had been neutralized, the tattooed man then turned his attention back to me. “Now, your little ones are all upstairs and unconscious for the moment. Helpless,” he emphasized as he stroked the large knife on his belt. “Tell me where the Little known as Willy Galpin is, or things might just get nasty.” I panicked as I began to see the other goons begin searching the other floors and the rest of this one. Due to the elongated nature of the house and the debris left from the two grenade explosions previously, more furniture had been knocked over. It meant more obstacles for them and places to hide in general, and therefore the more time it took for the goons to search everywhere and reach the back kitchen. That being said, I knew it was only a matter of time before they did. Then, as if to answer my question about Penelope or Willy, I saw a speck of movement in the back kitchen. It wasn’t much, but I knew at least one of them were still here and actively moving about. If it was Willy, I was relying on his Little and likely scared nature to flee without question. If it was Penelope, I knew she would want to help me, being the good and loyal worker that she was in the safehouse, but I had instructed anyone who worked for me that the safety of the Littles was always a top priority. Knowing her, she wouldn’t defy that directive and Willy would be safe then as well. “Might still be upstairs… fifth floor,” I told the tattooed man with a sigh and look of defeat on my face. I was acting about as best I could, my right cheek already swelling from where the man had hit me. It was an outright lie, but again, I just hoped it would be enough of a delaying tactic for Willy or Penelope and Willy to escape. To my chagrin, just as the other goons went upstairs to fully check the house based on my suggestion, a near deafening squeak went off in the room. It came from nearby, and I had no idea what would have made that sound, except for one of the toys, but it didn’t matter. The goons practically rocketed back down the stairs and the one goon searching the dining room, about to move to the kitchen, ran to the noise as well. Curiously enough, I saw the backdoor pivot ever so slightly. Whoever I had seen move back there before, was now clearly on the move and likely gone from the house. I couldn’t help but smile in relief. “There’s nothing here, boss!” One of the goons reached down at picked up Eddy, Harry’s stuffed chimp. “Just this old, stupid stuffed animal.” The tattooed man groaned and only pointed for another goon to point their gun at me. Without a single word, he stalked over to the stuffed chimp, snatched him away, gripped the stuffy tight, and with fixed and deep fingers on its throat, snarled and tossed Eddy across the room. “You idiots! Go find Willy now! Move!” Everyone started to depart, but just as I felt that Willy would be safe, the tattooed man looked back toward the kitchen and saw the backdoor swinging slightly in the night breeze. “Wait!” Every single goon still within earshot stopped at once. “Did any of you morons check the back?” It was immediately evident that they hadn’t. The tattooed man groaned again and ran to the kitchen. “For the love of…! There’s a whole other Big back here and…” From the passageway to the back, I could just make out as his eyes darted all around. “You!” He quickly pointed to the clearly younger goon who had been tasked to search the first floor. Reluctantly, he jogged over. “Yes, boss?” The tattooed man picked up a bagged lunch and held it in front of the younger goon. “How the hell did you miss this?” The younger goon could only stare back at the tattooed man, clearly terrified, and unable to make a sound to save himself. “Someone was back here making their lunch for tomorrow.” One hand grabbed the younger goon and his other hand pointed sternly to the figure on the floor I knew was definitely Penelope with the more cleared debris between us now. “Here’s the Big… now where is the Little who belongs to this bagged lunch?” Before he had a chance to speak, another goon came from his previous searching of the upstairs. “Sir! There’s no one else up here! Fifth floor or otherwise!” The tattooed man shoved the younger goon backward. “You all!” he directed to his other goons, totaling about five, including the one who had just come back downstairs. “Find the Little. He can’t have gone far! You all better not fail me!” “Yes, sir!” the chorus of them rang out, saluting right before they dashed out the back entrance to find Willy. I hoped he could avoid them well enough, but I didn’t have much time to hope. With the other goons gone, Penelope very much unconscious, and the other members of my staff and the Littles being locked and apparently knocked out upstairs, I was essentially all alone. Before I could think a single further thought, the tattooed man growled and raced over to me. His eyes seemed hand picked from the bowels of the fiery core of the planet and as he picked me up, I felt completely helpless under his sheer power. The snake wrapping around his arm bulged with ease as I was nearly catapulted into a wall above his head. My feet dangled powerlessly off the floor. “Thought you could play a little trick on us, huh?” he barked at me. I didn’t say anything, and with a huff, the man tossed me back on the floor. “Stupid Big! You’re a traitor to your own kind!” He then spit on me and walked around me like a lion getting ready for their kill of the antelope. I swallowed as best I could in fear. I had delayed Willy enough that he had escaped. I just hoped it would be enough. For him, it might have been, but for the tattooed man, it was likely the worst-case scenario. With him still panting and grunting as he circled me, I didn’t make a sound, which seemed to only upset him more. In seconds after about his fifth rotation, he lunged in at me. That’s when the punches started to rain down on me. One after another. His relentless fury had been unleashed and I could feel the weight of his failure in capturing Willy outright as each fist slammed into my body. He didn’t even seem to care where he hit though, smashing nearly every square inch of my body. Even as blood squirted from my mouth and one of the open cuts now on my forehead over his black uniform, he didn’t care. In fact, as I began to turn into a bloody pulp, I could see a smile grow over his face. I felt a blackness begin to creep in. I felt like death had come for me. It wasn’t how I wanted to go out, but I had helped as many Littles as I could. I suppose there were worst ways… Just as I felt seconds away from the end though, the tattooed man suddenly stopped. Relief surged through my body. Only hearing about the beating of my own heart in my ears, I wasn’t sure if the cops had finally showed up. I felt they were much slower than they should have been, but regardless, I wasn’t being hit anymore. Unfortunately, my fear didn’t abate. Instead of purely stopping and running away from the cops though as I had hoped, the tattooed man, fists bloody and smeared in my blood, smiled. It sent chills down my back, and despite my pain, I could think of nothing else over the verry meaning of that cruel vindictive and playful smirk. If a cat could grin as it was about to swallow the canary whole, I imagine what I saw before me would have been exactly that. “Bring me the shot…” He said it with such finality to the younger goon. It was just ‘the shot.’ Nothing more. Like a serial killer everyone should fear and know about, it was so simple and yet so terrifying. But I could see the fear through the eyeholes of the mask the younger goon wore. His hands even trembled as he nodded and went to a case I had just noticed nearby. Producing a single shot with some kind of silvery substance, the tattooed man took it gleefully. It was massive and I tried to fight back. Clearly, I didn’t want it, especially based on the younger goon’s reaction, but my beaten body couldn’t do anything about it. So, with a sick and twisted smile, the tattooed man flicked the needle twice. “You want to protect the Littles so much? How about a taste, huh?” I was confused, but again, I didn’t have time to think. Without a single hesitation or flick of the wrist, the man turned the needle over like a dagger ready to plunge in my heart and thrust the needle straight down into my body. * * * “No!” I bolted upright in bed and clutched my chest where the needle had stabbed me that night. There was no wound… no pain anymore. Sadly though, it didn’t seem to matter. It had already been two weeks since that night. Our advanced Big medicine in our technologically advanced society had mostly cured me after the three days I had spent in the hospital. I still had a few lingering bruises, but I was considered a ‘miracle of modern medicine’ to even be alive as compared to even a few decades ago. I didn’t feel that way though… Sure, I was alive, and I could walk by myself now, so that was a bonus, but I had been having more nightmares recently about that night. Each one filled in more details from what I had forgotten about when I first woke up, and each was worse than the last one. I had in fact helped Willy and the others out, but I could still feel the tattooed man’s fists pound into me each night since I had come home. I could feel the heat of his body as he sat above me and beat me bloody. In truth, I was still very much afraid of him and so many other things now. But that wasn’t the worst part… All that was terrible. I will never deny that, and my diagnosed PTSD was going to take time to heal. I knew that and I had been told the same thing at least two dozen times by now. Unfortunately, though, as I lifted the sheets, I saw my larger problem. There, right by my crotch, was a soaked bed. It had only started at the hospital after my first nightmare about that night. The nurses were wonderful, and the doctor simply chalked it up to lingering ‘symptoms of stress.’ I hoped he was right, and for a time he was, but now, this was the third time in the past week… and it just seemed to be getting worse. My accident tonight looked almost twice as large as the first one I had on my last day in the hospital. So, doubt began to enter my mind and a single question plagued me every day; what was in that shot? I had tried researching it on my own, but I had no such luck. No answers… just more dead ends every day. Still, as I heard others begin to stir on the floors below me, I knew I couldn’t dwell on the situation. If I waited any longer, someone could see. A Little wetting the bed was a daily occurrence at Safehouse 81, and even a Middle could have the occasional problem, but a Big… that was just unheard of… taboo even. So, I gathered all my sheets, quickly stripped and wiped myself off, before running to the washer on the floor below me. While I stayed on the seventh floor, the rest of my staff stayed on the sixth. I knew it was a risk, and my pulse pounded as I trapsed down the steps to the washer there, but as I dumped in my sheets and pajamas, I felt finally… “Miss G?” I spun around and saw Penelope staring back at me. “What… what are you doing down here?” “Oh…” I tried to wrack my brain to think of an answer… any answer. My sheets were only halfway stuffed into the top loader washer, so the wet stains were very unfortunately as plain as day. “Uh… what are you doing up so early? Isn’t today one of your break days?” I tried to deflect. Penelope nodded her head. “That’s right, but I go jogging on my days off. You remember, right?” ‘Crap!’ I was still having a few memory lapses from right before that night. Considering that could be linked to my bedwetting though, I tried to pass it off. “Oh, of course! Right, right. You started… before… and all…” Penelope nodded, but then looked back at me questioningly and then even more so to the sheet behind me. “So… uh, is everything okay, Miss G?” I cursed my luck that this had happened the one day she had definitely had off in the mornings. Mildred and Jackie were on staff today for most of the Littles with us currently. After the assault, the safehouse agency we worked out of had given us a lighter duty in the area. Safehouse 82 would be taking in most of the Little not already under our care. Still, I knew I needed to give Penelope an answer. “Uh… just some stress sweats at night. Trauma and all that… you know?” Penelope looked at me with an odd look, and if I had been any more paranoid, I might have associated it with the look I gave myself to the Littles who didn’t believe the story they were being fed. Still, for now, Penelope seemed satisfied after another moment. “I see. Maybe you should go see someone about it?” If she suspected anything, she certainly wasn’t letting on, but still… to be frank, I was afraid to see another doctor. Given the unknown qualities of the shot I was given and my recent bed wetting, there were just too many unknowns in our society about the consequences of seeing someone so official. “No… I think I’ll be okay. Most of the crew has already been convicted or killed at this point after that incident at the warehouse with Willy and the gang they were all working for. I think I just need some time.” Penelope looked at me with a deep-set concern. I knew she wanted to help me… After all, she was the one that had called for the ambulance once she came to after the tattooed man and the rest of the goons had left. She sported a nasty bump on her head, one that was the aftermath of the furniture that had knocked her unconscious during the ordeal, but now, I could see she carried guilt over what had happened to me. I insisted I was fine, but her caring instincts were hard to quiet. She heavily sighed but then plucked her ear buds out of her armband. “Okay… just take some time if you need it… or if you ever want to talk, I’m…” “Thank you, Penelope.” I knew I was rather abrupt with my thanks, but it seemed to do the trick and Penelope gave one final reassuring smile and wave, and then trotted off downstairs. With her gone and my laundry in the wash, I quickly began my day and started to put another wet bed out of my mind. Gina, Harry, and the other Littles milled around their various cribs and beds. Not having any newborn Littles with us currently, the rest just required a few diaper changes. Of the five Littles with us still, it just so happened that each required diapers 24/7. Being a safehouse, it’s just how it was. Regardless of the start of my own morning though, I continued at my job like I always had. We received one new Little, Jonathan, who actually managed to pass the test to stay on the second floor, marking them as the most mature Little under our care here. Once he had settled in and started to mind his own business and reflect on his safety here like all others did, I went to work with the other aspects of Littlecare in a city safehouse. Jackie and Mildred were hard at work, and I quickly joined in with them. Mildred was a Middle but was one of our most diligent employees. Despite being the newest around here and considered an ‘intern,’ I was already considering offering her an official job in the next few weeks. Seeing her soothe Harry when he was running around and then tripped and started bawling, the few reservations I had with her were soon vanishing. The day continued much like that, and just as Jackie went back to her own home after her 12-hour shift, being only a part-time employee here, Penelope started on. She made quick work of making dinner for everyone and starting to plan out the schedules for the upcoming weekend. Everything was going just like it had before that terrible night, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Normalcy like this felt good. “What is this?” Jonathan asked as Mildred placed his tray in front of him on the table. Being the unregressed Little he was, he only required a booster seat at the table. Harry, Gina, and two others had been fed first, and two more had been fed after them. Now, it was just Jonathan and Ian. “It’s just some avocado, orange slices, and a bit of chili over half an English muffin. No tricks and nothing strange, I promise,” I said reassuringly to our latest charge. Mildred hesitated but I nodded her off back to the kitchen. I knew by now she could handle Jonathan, but I was already there to make sure that Ian at his food. The despondent Little slowly began to eat, but like usual, never made a sound. He had trauma like the rest of them, but unlike the others, his was written all over his body and actions with his never lightening mood. “So why is the plate a different color then?” Jonathan poked at his bright blue plastic tray with distrust. I couldn’t blame him. Littles were often subjected to the worst imaginable treatments out there, but still, he needed to eat while he was here with us. I refused to let a Little go hungry under my watch. “I promise that nothing is out of the ordinary.” Jonthan still looked at me with distrust painted all over his face. I sighed and I was feeling puckish myself, so I opted for the ‘nuclear’ option. “How about this? I eat a bit of your food, just so you know it’s okay, alright?” I could see the cogs in Jonthan’s mind already start to turn. It was a good sign, and I was glad that it at least seemed to be working. Bigs offering to eat a Little’s food was never a good practice or habit to get into. Sadly, food manufacturers more often than not slipped in extra chemicals to embarrass or even regress, temporarily or otherwise, a Little. Considering that Penelope had made most of the meal from natural ingredients, I wasn’t worried in this case though. While not as potent for us Bigs, laced Little food could still make for an uncomfortable following hour in the bathroom. Fortunately, though, Jonathan accepted my offer. The food was far too sweet for my taste, adhering to a Little’s preferences rather than a Bigs, but I got it down and Jonathan ate the rest of his food without complaint. Next though, was the staff and I’s dinner. Our food was pretty like what we had served the Littles, and while that wasn’t always the most exciting, I had learned long ago that Littles seeing something they could never have always been a bad idea. They could accuse us Bigs, or in Mildred’s case, Middle, of being unfair and withholding from them. So, we all then took a seat and began to eat our plainer food while the rest of the Littles were already asleep or happily reading a book or watching Adventure Sam in the nearby living room. The cartoon TV show was good for multiple mental ages, and occasionally, I even saw Jonathan peak up every once in a while, at it as ‘Sam’ traveled around our world and showcased the various animals and wonders of nature. Most Littles being from Earth these days, always gawked at the sheer scope and variety our world had to offer. Apparently, the woolly mammoth had been extinct on their planet for thousands of years. Here, though, it was just a trip to the zoo to see. Still, I could always see the wonderment in their eyes. For a brief moment, nothing else seemed to matter to them and I had to imagine that it gave them a sense of peace in a way. Still, with them settled, the rest of my staff, tonight only Mildred and Penelope, as Vivian was currently on vacation, seemed delighted with the food. For my own part, I sighed and wished for a good bottle of wine and some Itali food, but food was food. Interestingly enough though, as soon as the first spoonful of the chili hit my mouth, I couldn’t stop eating. I quickly ravished through my plate. Every crumb, piece of corn, and even juicy drop of the oranges at the end was a delight I just couldn’t get enough of. I had never experienced something so amazing in all my life. I was even sad to see that I had finished, but just as I set my plate down, having pulled it closer to my mouth to increase my speed of eating, I looked back at my staff. Penelope and Mildred were looking right at me, both clearly confused and maybe even a little horrified after what they had just seen. I quickly realized that they had witnessed every little detail of that event. My devouring had likely taken on an odd quality and one of madness or barbarity. I couldn’t help it, but seeing their faces, I knew I had to quickly play it off. I was their leader and showing weakness, in an already tense and shaky environment after the break-in, was something I simply couldn’t allow. “Whew!” I said exaggeratedly. “That was some meal, Penelope! I must have not eaten that much today. Just couldn’t get enough of it.” I tried to smile and joke, and while Mildred seemed to join in on the hilarity of the scene, I saw something lingering in Penelope’s face. Even behind her eventual smile, I could see something lurking there. Regardless though, the dishes were cleaned, all the Littles went to bed, and I made sure everything was set for tomorrow. It was still another weekday, but all the Littles were going back to daycare. They had been since the break-in, but tomorrow was going to be their first full day back, as opposed to the half days we had been adhering to for the past week and a half. So, with all that done, I closed my eyes and drifted asleep. * * * I felt a blackness begin to creep in. I felt like death had come for me. It wasn’t how I wanted to go out, but I had helped as many Littles as I could. Just as I felt seconds away from the end though, the tattooed man stopped. Relief surged through my body, but that only lasted for what felt like a few seconds. Instead of fully stopping, the tattooed man, fists bloody and smeared in my blood, smiled. It sent chills down my back, and despite my pain, I could think of nothing else. If a cat could grin as it was about to swallow the canary whole, I imagine what I saw before me would have been that. “Bring me the shot…” He said it with such finality to the younger goon. It was just ‘the shot.’ Nothing more. Like a serial killer everyone should fear and know about, it was so simple. But I could see the fear through the eyeholes of the mask the younger goon wore. His hands even trembled as he nodded and went to a case I had just noticed nearby. Producing a single shot with some kind of silvery substance, the tattooed man took it gleefully. It was at least a foot long and I tried to fight back. It was useless. I was too weak and beaten, and he was simply too strong. Then, with a sick and twisted smile, the tattooed man flicked the needle twice. “You want to protect the Littles so much? How about a taste, huh?” I was confused, but again, I didn’t have time to think. Without a single hesitation or flick of the wrist, the man turned the needle over like a dagger ready to plunge in my heart and thrust the massive needle straight down into my chest. * * * “No!” I bolted up again in my bed. My eyes darted around, and I tried to find some bearings of where I was. I was scared and confused, and I felt very small for some reason. To my relief though, I knew I was in my bedroom and the tattooed man had been dead for some time now. As I came to my senses though, to my dismay, I knew I had wet the bed again. “Shit.” Hearing more shuffling from downstairs through the floor, this time much earlier than usual, I rushed downstairs without thought. I hadn’t even bothered to wash myself off. I could always do more laundry when everyone else was busy… or so I thought. Right as I piled my soaked pajamas and sheets into the was again, I heard someone speak up from behind me. “I thought as much…” I spun around, and to my horror, I saw Penelope standing right there with a look of both annoyance and deep concern. “Penelope… it’s… it’s not what you think. I swear!” I could feel the fear of being discovered begin to gurgle up from my stomach. I felt like I was going to puke on the spot. Penelope sighed. “It’s okay, Miss G. I understand what happened… but we can’t keep doing this. I’ve seen you here before even yesterday. You aren’t as quiet as you think you are…” I swallowed and never thought that she would be awake if it wasn’t her morning shift. A constant night owl, she usually elected for the afternoon and night shifts here, but I should have known better. Her door looked right across the hallway at the washer and dryer room. It wouldn’t have taken her much to notice my presence here nearly every morning recently. “I knew you were hiding something, but this…” I was terrified she was going to make a scene, but instead, she just walked over and pinched a dry spot of my sheets and pulled them up a little to see the extent of the wet patch on them. It was horrible and I just wanted to die or bury myself in a hole someplace. “This is something more.” She turned to me, and all the annoyance or anger or whatever I saw before, was now gone. Instead, there was only sympathy and her previous look of concern. “We need to get you to the doctor. I’ve already called Jackie just in case this happened. They’ll think you’ve got the flu or something. Being around Littles, we all know how much that can happen.” I cracked the faintest of smiles. I could tell she was trying to get me to feel better at this point and truly was coming from a place of concern for my well-being. Embarrassing, but as she had mentioned, being around Littles just got one sicker than normal. The whole staff still remember the puking incident last summer when one stomach bug floated into our safehouse. It wasn’t pretty, and I just tried to get myself to think of this whole mess as just another version of that. It wasn’t, but the tiny relief the notion gave me was a welcome feeling. So, I quickly showered and piled myself into the car while Penelope drove me away. I wasn’t feeling up to it anyways, but it also maintained the illusion that I was sick. Littles under our care may have been damaged, abused, and regressed in all the ways one could be, but they had a curiosity and saw the world very much for what it was. If I left singing a tune and as happy as a clam, each one of them would have questioned me rigorously when we returned. A short drive later, Penelope parked in front of a pleasant brick and glass building. It seemed like dozens of other recently added office parks throughout the suburbs of the city and I at least admired the well-maintained flowers embedded in the flowerbeds around the base of the building. “Come on,” Penelope coaxed me out of the car, “he’ll be waiting.” “He?” For some reason, normally being the ‘in-charge’ person that I was, I normally scheduled all my appointments. This one though, I was going in completely blind. Penelope nodded and nudged me toward the door. “Yes, he. Dr. Benson is one of the best in the city at treating Bigs who have been…” She trailed off and I froze in place. “Penelope…” I tried to use my sterner voice on her but standing there and coming here for wetting the bed, I couldn’t help but feel a little weakened. “Is this doctor for…” I looked around to see if anyone was nearby. They weren’t. “Bedwetting?” I tried to whisper, but already inside the lobby by now, my voice seemed to echo all on its own. Penelope smiled but shook her head. “No. Not that. I figured you didn’t want to go there. Instead, Dr. Benson specializes in science experiments that have gone… well, to put it plainly, wrong.” I began to freak out internally. I hadn’t told anyone about the shot. “Wait… how do you know about the shot? I thought… I…” Penelope sighed and gestured for me to get in the elevator that had just dinged to the lobby floor. “Get in and I’ll tell you.” I sighed and complied without fight. The elevator jolted upward. “Look… I found you after I came to and they had left. I saw the shot and you…” I could already sense her hesitation. “Well, you freaked out a bit when you saw that thing.” “I did?” I had no memory of that. Penelope nodded. “You did. Not surprised that you don’t remember but the doctors and police bagged it, and I haven’t seen it since, but with everything going on… I put two and two together. I figured we would start here and go from there, okay?” It felt nice that I had such a loyal number two under my employ. Still, I trembled like a leaf as I entered the main office of Dr. Benson. It was even worse when we were eventually called back, but as the tall, clean-shaven, and dark with some gray steaks in it haired man in a lab coat entered, I felt oddly at ease. After Penelope excused herself, to give me at least a little privacy, Dr. Benson began. “Hello, Miss Glifford. I’m Dr. Benson,” he said calmly. His eyes seemed to nearly sparkle with intelligence and a kindness I really needed right then. “What seems to be the issue, or at least, why are you here today?” It took a second, and after a little coaxing, I finally managed to spit out everything that had happened. I felt a enormous weight lift off my shoulders, and I already felt better, but I knew I still had some problem. It didn’t help that Dr. Benson already seemed slightly worried as he began to write a few notes down on my chart. “Okay… not as unusual as you might think, so don’t panic there, but to see what we’re dealing with here and what you’ll need going forward, I’m going to need to ask you some questions, okay?” I nodded and with a glowing smile, he began. “How often do you wet the bed?” “Do you often daze out when interacting with Littles?” “Do you wear protection during the day currently, or do you have the desire to?” “Are there any authority figures in your life that you have started to defer to, both in times of stress and daily activities?” “Have you noticed any unusual habits in your daily routines, like drinking water, eating, or even brushing your teeth?” “Do you cuddle with any toy or object that brings you comfort?” With each one, I began to realize two things. First, each of his questions made me doubt my own existence in this world a little more. While most of the answers were a plain ‘no,’ there were at least 10 of his thirty questions, that I couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to completely. Secondly, though, and more concerning, I started to realize the questions began to take on a nature of their own. While the first seemed silly, like asking if I spontaneously collapsed into a gelatinous substance when loud noises were present, I began to notice a pattern about halfway through that I could confirm by the 20th. Being the head of a safehouse, I recognized the questions as nearly identical to the ones I would ask a Little to gauge their maturity level. As soon as I realized that pattern for certain, I didn’t let Dr. Benson ask his 29th, let alone 30th question. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at, doc?” I growled at the man before me. “Are you even a real doctor? Can’t you see that I’m a Big, and not a Little?” Dr. Benson sighed and nodded. “I apologize for my questions, Miss Glifford, but I think we need to…” “No!” I didn’t want to let him finish that thought either. I was pissed. I was confused about what was happening to me. But above all, I was scared. His questions seemed to only be heading in one direction, and I didn’t like that place at all. I had said ‘no’ to all his questions, but with each that he asked, that ‘no’ became less uncertain. I was sure he knew that, and I was nearly petrified inside that soon, my answer would instead be a ‘yes.’ I couldn’t let that happen. “Screw this!” I edged my chair back and stomped up and over to the door before looking back at a worried and slightly bewildered Dr. Benson. “Thanks for nothing, doc! I’m not going to turn into some pile of good all of a sudden, so I think you can just take your tests and shove it!” Without letting him say another word, I turned about a headed to the elevator as quickly as I could without running. “Miss G!” Penelope tried to call after me. “Wait! Wait for me!” But I was already pushing the button and tuning everything else out. It wasn’t until the elevator beeped and I hopped on to leave this building altogether that I realized I should have handled that whole situation better. Normally, I was a level-headed person. I was focused on my job and caring for the Littles in my protection at the safehouse, the government required that much at least, but I was happy and content. Even keeled and not prone to outbursts was my reputation through nearly everything. A Little threw a toy at my head? I would scold or punish them, but never let my anger or pain get away from me. A Little called me dirty names and wished I was dead? Hurtful, yes, but I always kept my emotions in check. Or if a Little breaking free from a new employee while we’re at the park was terrifying, I always made sure to get them back safely and keep a clear mind about it. Now, all that seemed to be just out of my reach. I felt a burning anger inside my chest, a sadness in my eyes and trembling lip, and an unbridled fear in my head. I wanted it to stop… for it to be over, but it kept at it. Even when I got to Penelope’s car and waited for her to catch up, I still felt very much the same. I vowed to never return to Dr. Bensons, but as I wiped the snot and tears away from my emotional outburst on my sleeve, I knew something was definitely wrong with me. My pride might have been my downfall, but I wanted… needed to figure this out on my own. It was just a shot, and I was a Big. A bit of stress, PTSD, and some chemicals were not going to keep me down. As Penelope exited the building with a worried look on her face though, my resolve melted just a bit. I kept my outward confidence that I would d be fine, but a tiny bubble of growing doubt was buried deep within me. My gamble was certainly that, and I just hoped that everything would be okay.

Chapter 1 Finn sat on the bus looking at passers by through the window and thinking ‘what have I let myself in for?’. He’d been an avid user of fetlife for little under 6 months and it didn’t take long for him to make a connection on there. After back and forth for a couple of months, he’d agreed to meet Holly - an experienced abdl mummy who lived only an hours bus ride away. Although nervous about exposing his ABDL fetish to someone he’d never met before, he wanted this and decided to take the plunge. As he focused on the music blaring from his earphones, he looked down at himself and felt embarrassed and hoped no one would judge him based on his outfit. As part of the agreement for meeting Finn, Holly had sent him some clothes that she wanted him to wear to their first meeting. His outfit consisted of a pair of briefs with dinosaur patterns all over (he had no idea how she found some in his size, he assumed she’d bought them from Etsy), some light grey jersey shorts and a t-shirt with photos of marvel superheroes all over it. Although he was 19 years old, he in fact looked at 12. He guessed it would all be part of the experience, but he was surprised that she didn’t make him wear a nappy, or even pull-ups. The final detail was that she’d ordered him to have a breakfast of oatmeal, a large coffee and a a 1 litre bottle of water. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. “Next stop: Baker Road” the bus announcement said. ‘My stop’ Finn thought, as he took out his earphones and got up off the seat and walked down the bus as it came to a stop. He thanked the bus driver and then opened up Google maps to make sure he headed in the right direction. Holly has assured him her house was only a few doors down from the bus stop, and sure enough he found it with ease. The house was semi-detached and fairly unassuming, with a well kept front garden and a small hatchback car parked in the driveway. “Here we go” Finn said as he took a deep breath and made his way towards the front door. After hesitating for a second, he rung the doorbell and waited patiently for an answer. In super quick time the door flung open. “Hello sweety, you must be Finn?” Holly chirped. She was exactly how she described, a tall, blonde, middle aged beauty who towered above Finn and was wearing a tight light grey sports vest and matching shorts, revealing her amazing figure. “Yep that’s me, nice to meet you” Finn replied, shaking with nerves. Holly unexpectedly pulled him in and gave him a big hug, and as she did his head nestled between her plump boobs, due to the height difference. After a few seconds she let go and they both looked at each other. “Since it’s such a nice day, shall we go for a walk and we can chat and get to know each other?” Holly proposed. “Yeah sure” Finn replied, slightly scared to suggest otherwise. “Awesome, I’ll just get my phone!” Holly said as she quickly ran back into the house to grab her phone. As she ran away Finn got a good look at her bum, and he tried his best not to get too excited and did his best to stop him getting a semi. Holly ran back towards him and walked him down the driveway and back down the road towards a small woods near Holly’s house. As they walked they made basic small talk to put Finn at ease, and to be fair it worked. Although the butterflies in his stomach had been replaced with an ever growing urge in his bladder. They finally made it to the woods and it was beautiful but also very quiet and secluded. “So Finn lets get down to business. So you want to be my baby?” Holly asked. Finn’s eyes widened as she asked him. “Ummm, yeah I do” Finn replied. “You are very cute Finn and I think you’d definitely make a very cute baby. But you can’t just become a baby just like that, first you need to prove that you are a baby” Holly explained. “Tell me Finn - what do babies do?”. “Babies play with toys and take naps?” Finn answered. “Correct, what else do they do?” Holly replied. “They crawl around and drink milk?” Finn said, confused as to where this was going. “Right again. Also Finn, what do babies wear?” Holly replied again. Now he realised where this was going. “Onesies?” Finn said, trying to avoid the obvious. “Yes they do Finn, but they also wear nappies underneath. Right now Finn you aren’t a baby because you don’t do any of those things and you aren’t wearing any of those things. But if you want to be a baby you need to show me that you NEED all of that, not just want it” Holly explained as he grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. They were both stood in an opening in the woods. “So, did you have the breakfast I told you to have this morning?” Holly asked. “Yes I did” Finn replied. “Good boy, so I’m guessing that right now you need to use the toilet right?” Holly said as she looked down at his crotch. “Umm yeah, I kind of need a wee” Finn answered nervously as he put his hands on his crotch. “Okay, well to prove to me you need nappies you’re going to have to show me that you need them. So Finn, I want you to wet yourself right now” Holly requested. Finn was shocked. He assumed he’d be wetting himself at some point during the day but he didn’t expect to be doing it in his pants and not in a nappy. He didn’t want to admit how desperate he was to Holly but tried his best to hide it. “But Holly we’re in public, and everyone will be able to tell” he pleaded. “I don’t care Finn, you need to prove how much of a baby you are and remember I’m in charge” she said as she bent over and moved his arms to his side and forced his legs open slightly. “I’m going to count down from five, and when I get to one I want you to wet your pants. “Five…” Holly said as she stood back and stared at him. “Wait Holly, I’m not sure I can…” “4…” “Hmmmm please” “3…” “Please don’t make me do this” “2…” “Holly!” “1…” Finn panicked, but for some reason he had accepted what he had to do. He shut his eyes and tried to imagine being stood infront of the toilet with his pants around his ankles. After a few seconds he felt a small spurt of wee get soaked up by his pants, but once it started he couldn’t stop it, a torrent of wee came out as he felt the front of his shorts warm and streams of wee trickled down his legs. After one final push he was finished, and he’d totally soaked his shorts and pants. As he opened his eyes and looked at Holly, he was alerted to the fact she was filming him! “Good boy Finn, looks like you’ve had a big accident! I wanted to film it so I can show you how much of a baby you are. So, you’ve done a number one in your pants, but there’s one more thing you need to do for me to prove you definitely need nappies. I know that the breakfast you had this morning should have already made it’s way through your body. So… do you need to go number two?” Holly explained. He hadn’t admitted it but his bowels were in need of release too and pushing the wee out had now made that more obvious. “Please don’t make me do that, I’ll do anything please” Finn pleaded. As embarrassing as it was wetting himself, messing was even worse. “Finn, you want to be a baby right? Surely you didn’t think you’d be messing yourself at some point? This way you’ll prove that you aren’t grown up enough for big boy pants and that you need to wear nappies. Now drop your shorts and turn around so your bum is facing me. If you don’t, I’ll march you back to that bus stop right now and send you home in wet shorts. Come on do it” Holly ordered. Slightly scared, Finn pulled down his shorts to reveal his soaking dinosaur briefs and turned around so she could see his petite bum and hairless legs. “Good boy, now I don’t mind if you bend over a bit but I want you to poo in those cute pants of yours, I won’t count you down but I want you to push right now” Holly ordered as she held her phone up and began filming. Finn didn’t fight it. He bent his knees slightly held the bottom of his t-shirt as a comforter and began to push. Due to the oatmeal and coffee it didn’t take a huge amount of effort before a soft lump of poo escaped his bum and met the resistance of his pants. It felt weird, like a big hot lump sat between his cheeks and pants as he gave it one more push and the poo left his bum completely, being held in place by the fabric. “Uh oh! Looks like Finn has made a big mess in his pants! Oof and it’s smelly too, what a big accident you’ve had!” Holly teased as she finished filming. “Turn around for me Finn” she ordered. Finn turned around, still in the bent position, and looked up at Holly to see she was still filming him. “Stand up straight for me” Holly asked. Finn slowly stood up straight as he felt the mush in his pants squelch as he bum cheeks closed slightly. “Now tell me your name” Holly ordered, still filming. “Ummm I’m Finn” he answered. “Good boy Finn. Now tell me why you need to wear nappies” Holly said as she looked sternly into his eyes. He knew what the game was at this point and the threat of putting him back on a bus in this state was too much to bear. “I need nappies because… because I had an accident” Finn mumbled quietly. “What kind of accident” Holly said. “I’ve wet and… and pooed myself” Finn admitted as a tear rolled from his eye. “Show me Finn, lift your shirt up and turn around”. Holly ordered again. Finn then slowly turned around to reveal the darkened lump in the back of his pants. “Oh dear, looks like Finn here isn’t potty trained and looks like he’ll have to go back into nappies” Holly played up to the cameras as she stopped filming. “You can turn back around Finn, and pull your shorts up” Holly requested. He did so within seconds. “Well done Finn, you’ve now proved to me how much you need nappies. Let’s get you back home and cleaned up because you are so dirty, and you stink” Holly held out her hand and Finn walked towards her and held her hand. “One more thing, from now on you are now going to call me ‘mummy’. Understand” Holly said. “Yes” Finn answered sheepishly. “Yes what?” Holly said. “Yes mummy” Finn answered. The walk back to Holly’s house was thankfully uneventful, apart from one dog walker giving Finn a weird look after seeing the huge wet patch on the front of his shorts, and his slight waddle. Mercifully they reached Holly’s house and as quickly as possible Finn reached her porch as she unlocked the door. “Shoes off please” Holly ordered as Finn bent down and untied his trainers. He noticed another pair of trainers at the door, that were white in colour with pink accents. “Phew you really do reek, let’s get you cleaned up” Holly said as she took his hand and led him into the living room. “We’re home sweety!” Holly announced loudly as they entered, and Finn was stopped in his tracks as he was met with a shocking sight. He locked eyes with a young woman, probably around the same age as him, sat on the wooden floor infant of the television wearing nothing but a pink and white striped t-shirt and a thick ABU BunnyHopps nappy with her hair in pigtails and a pink dummy in her mouth. Her eyes widened like they were about to pop out of her sockets. Her eyes then panned down to the large wet patch on his shorts. He again thought to himself, ‘what have I let myself in for?’.

Hey there, readers! This is... kinda awkward, but it happened again. A new idea for a cute story popped into my head and, well... here's the beginning of a new story! I hope that you enjoy it! Back to Basics (Part 1) by Panther Cub "Alright, Ma'am, I'm gunna need you to pull over into the inspection lane." The tuxedo cat looked down at the jackrabbit lady, the sunlight reflecting off his aviator sunglasses, his mouth a hard frown as he pointed at the lane he had just instructed her to drive towards. She looked up at him from inside her small brown car, a look of confusion on her face. "Please don't start with me this early in the morning," the tuxedo cat mumbled under his breath as she opened her mouth to speak. "Is this some kind of a joke?" The jackrabbit lady didn't even try to keep the giggle from her voice. Tristan hated the fact that he could feel his black and white cheeks starting to blush. From where he sat perched on his special work stool, Tristan bit back a growl and simply frowned deeper, making sure to speak authoritatively. He could feel the snow white feathers on his wings starting to fluff up a bit. "Ma'am, you need to pull over into the inspection lane right now. I won't ask a third time." His paw was already settled onto his radio. "Are you playing inspection officer, cutiepie?" She cooed up at him. The cat felt his blush deepen and his tail began to swish faster in his aggravation. The fact that he could hear a faint crinkling as it did so didn't help. "Charlie 54 Delta, code 11." The jackrabbit looked away from the kitten sitting in what was very clearly a highchair painted black to match his cute little uniform, to see several officers dressed similarly approaching. A large brown and white spotted female owl took up position in the booth right next to Tristan and looked the driver dead in the eyes with a hardness to her own steely gray ones. "Driver! Pull into the designated inspection lane now. This is your final warning!" Lieutenant Haelga was not one to mess around, and the jackrabbit lady immediately knew it. "Wait... am I in trouble?" "He, like every other inspection officer here, radios in a Code 11 when a driver is not complying and driving into the inspection lane after being instructed to do so. Failure to comply can lead to detainment in addition to the inspection of your vehicle as well as count as resisting arrest if you continue to fail to comply." "Now wait just one second... you mean that that... baby is actually working here?! That can't be legal!" Tristan rolled his eyes at that, feeling some satisfaction as the lady was then asked to step out of the vehicle by Officer Skyson. While a bit on the portly side, the vulture was still very intimidating when he wanted to be, like when the jackrabbit lady started to object to her being detained, until he gave her his patented glare. Another officer climbed into the car and drove it away from the booth and into the inspection lane. "Y'know, Tristan," Haelga said with a smirk as she looked down at the kitten, "it really impresses me how much you're able to not lose your cool when these drivers pull this crap." Tristan smiled, feeling his blush fade a bit as he sat up a little straighter in his work stool that was totally not a high chair at some point. "Thanks, boss!" "And remember to call in if you need a quick change." His ears splayed flat at that while his blush returned in full force. "Understood, Lieutenant..." "Oh! And one more thing!" Haelga turned just as she was about to shimmy out of the booth, smiling down at her protege. "Yeah?" "I'm putting you in charge of helping to train the new gal when she starts next week." Tristan had sat in on the interview and gotten to ask a few questions. The new hire's name was Mia, and she was also a tuxedo cat, though she didn't have wings like he did. Also, she wasn't trapped in the body of a two-year-old. Well, to be fair it was more like the body of a one and three-quarter-year-old, but Tristan preferred to round up. He liked how she had been professional and not immediately fawned over him the moment she saw him, like so many applicants had already. That or just ignored him and his questions. He suspected that that was partly why he was selected to help with the interview process, to help weed out some of the less-professional ones. Overall, Mia's qualifications were just fine and she answered all of their questions professionally and succinctly. If he recalled correctly, she was twenty-eight, nine years younger than himself. "I won't let you down, Boss!" He said, resuming his duties as another car pulled in next to his booth. "Good morning sir." "... Is this some kind of a joke?" Tristan sighed and looked at the alpaca in the business suit just staring right at him with a slack-jawed expression. "Sir... I'm gunna need you to pull into the inspection lane up on the right here." * * * Tristan sighed as he watched the forested landscape pass by. Seeing the ever burbling creek going under the little bridge the car quickly passed over always made the kitten smile. But today he just wasn't feeling it. It wasn't a long drive home from work, but when you have to carpool because legally you can't drive anymore... and you have to sit in the back in a car seat, it can make the trip feel like it takes a bit longer than it should. "You line up a ride for next week?" Frank asked from the driver's seat. The gruff old bull looked at the winged kitten in the rearview mirror. "Yeah. I'll be carpooling with the new hire. She already agreed to it, and said that since she lives close by to where I live, it won't be an inconvenience to her." "Good..." Despite sharing a ride to and from work with one another for the last six months, Tristan still found talking with his older coworker to be very awkward. "Yeah... so this is really it then?" Tristan asked as they passed by into the town outskirts, a few houses dotting the now grassy and hilly landscape the forest gave way to. "Yup. Been looking forward to retirement for awhile now." Frank cracked a smile as he came to an intersection and took a left, driving past the bar and grill. The local grocery store flew past next, followed by the elementary school shortly after. Seeing the old school brought back some fond memories to the kitten. A few more turns later, and Frank was pulled up right in front of Tristan's house. It was a simple ranch-style layout. He winced as he took note, yet again, of how badly the old white house was in desperate need of a new paint job. The black and white kitten had to wait for the bull to get out and come around to the backseat door Tristan was looking out of. Opening said door and using his hoof fingers, Frank pressed the big red button in the center of the five point safety harness that was keeping Tristan safe and sound in his carseat. The diminutive feline hopped down and grabbed the bright blue and red child's backpack he used to carry around his lunch and other stuff for work inside, watching as the bull grunted and snorted in frustration, trying to get the carseat all disconnected from how it had been installed. Finally, it came free, and Frank carried it over to the front door, setting it down. He walked back to the car and shut the backseat door, ruffling Tristan's headfur as he did so. "It's been fun, kiddo. Good night." Tristan frowned and batted away at the hoof, giving Frank a sour look. "I'm not a kid... but thank you Frank for the help. Good night, and... goodbye, I guess." Frank smiled and got back inside his bright white car, driving off. The late afternoon light reflecting in the rearview mirror. Tristan walked towards the house, looking left and right, hoping none of his nosy neighbors would bug him today. He knew that they meant well, like old Mrs. Dorrington. "Last thing I need is for someone to call CPS over here again," he muttered under his breath as he fished out his keys from his pocket. He had to reach up a little to get the deadbolt, but after that and the doorknob, and a bit of a shove, he was inside. "Home sweet home." Tristan sighed as he grabbed his carseat and dragged it through the door, which he then shut and locked. Glad that it was the weekend, he undid his tie and unbuttoned his uniform shirt. They were casually tossed aside, along with his pants. Walking by the full-length hallway mirror, he saw a little black and white kitten with stark white wings, wearing a swollen white diaper with green trim. It was after he saw his reflection that Tristan realized he was waddling more. He let out another sigh as his waddling continued on into the bathroom. He looked at the pack of Snuggies and saw he was already halfway through it. He made a mental note to walk on down to the grocery store in the next couple of days to restock. Looking at the other changing supplies and the changing mat laid out on the tile, he briefly reflected on how, thanks to his new height, he had to move everything to a reachable surface, or even just put things on the ground. The exception to this would be his stool in the kitchen. Stripping off his used diaper and balling it up to toss into the awaiting trash pail, Tristan opened his shower door and stepped inside. Dinner that night was a can of Pasta-O's, heated up in the microwave, with a box of juice on the side. As Tristan parked his padded bottom, that may or may not have required some additional adjusting of the tapes in the mirror in the hallway after he had powdered and diapered himself once he had dried himself off; in the old armchair, having to climb up onto it, he carefully pulled the nearby tv tray closer. He tucked a paper towel into his shirt, and scooped out a spoonful. Grimacing at the bland tomato soupy flavor and the chewy and mushy pasta, he reflected on how good a steak, done at medium rare, or some burger patties cooked on his grill tasted. He then frowned and huffed, that having been the first reason a neighbor called CPS after his transformation. Sighing, he started flipping through channels, stopping on some kind of documentary about the new wave popularity of that old boy band Small to Big, rebranded after they got a similar change to Tristan. He let out a growl and quickly changed the channel. "Stupid Regressus Inc. and they're stupid rejuvenation formula... and stupid me for taking that crap." His ears splayed flat on his head as he remembered how excited he'd been when he'd found out that there was an actual legit drug out there that could reverse the aging process. Doing some research, he learned that people could pick their ideal ages and then age regularly again. Tristan had spent almost all of his twenties, his physical prime, taking care of his sick parents. He spotted a picture from back when he was around this age the first time, coincidentally wearing the exact same shirt he was now, being held by his Mom and Dad. She had been a tuxedo cat like himself. His father, being a bald eagle, was where he'd gotten his wings from. Though he suspected it was Mom's fur coloration that caused them to be white. He smiled at the happy family in the photo, trying not to think about how first his father had been the one to get the Big C... and then his mother. They had both insisted that he finish school and get his degree, which he thankfully did. But after graduation, the roles had reversed, and he had started taking care of them. The few friends he had made in college all lived out of town, and he slowly lost touch with them... including Caroline. The sweet tigress had gotten her degree in marine biology and couldn't wait to get out on the ocean. They'd... no, he wasn't going to think about that, and he certainly wasn't going to cry about it. They had made their choices, and even though it had taken a decade when all was said and done, and left him practically penniless, at least before he managed to get a job at the checkpoint. But still, could he really be blamed for wanting to just reclaim that section of his life back? To get to actually be in his twenties? Looking down at the Snuggies with the happy diapered chibi baby lion smiling up at him, he felt that apparently some aspect of fate felt so. As it turned out, there was a small percentage of the population, about 7% overall, who were allergic to the Rejuvenation formula. Rather than get tested, Tristan figured the odds were in his favor. And for a month, it had seemed like they were. Minutes after taking the formula, which turned out to be a spray you inhaled, he had felt a tingling sensation spread out from his face to all over his body. After a few minutes, his clothes felt a little looser, and looking in the mirror, he saw a face he hadn't seen in too long. He'd tried going out to some clubs in the city, which had been... ok, at least in his book. He'd gone down to the coast to try wind-surfing, which had been pretty fun, but wasn't really his thing. He'd tried taking up a bunch of different hobbies, ranging from woodworking to beekeeping, but, aside from a slight pain in his back now being gone, he more or less felt the same. Still, though, he was younger and now had more time to think about what he wanted to do with his life. Then came the morning he'd woken up after having a terrible dream. It was something about being in a neverending daycare, but it was all dusty and covered in cobwebs and empty. The more he'd walked through it, the more he felt a tingling in his whole body, just like when he took the formula. When he awoke, he learned two things. The first, was that he'd shrunk to the size of a toddler, which was right around when he tried getting out of bed and fell on the floor. He bumped his head in doing so, and couldn't stop crying for a good few minutes. The second thing he had learned shortly after was that he seemed to have lost his potty training. That made him bawl outright. It had taken some time, some doctor visits, some proving he knew who he was, knew what year it was, and that he was still mentally an adult, and some thinking on his superiors' superiors part before he'd been allowed to continue working. It was after the first couple of months after his change, when he noticed something odd when he would measure himself with an old yardstick he had found. Not only was he not gaining any new height, he seemed to be shrinking still. Terrified that this meant he'd be transformed into a newborn or something, he had gone to his doctor. After another round of tests, it was determined that while Tristan was shrinking, that was simply because the formula was only finally almost finished. Physically, he'd been hoping to be around the age of three. Instead, his doctor placed him as being just under two. Tristan finished off his Pasta-O's and drank his juice, grape, his favorite, and continued watching TV until he started getting sleepy. He huffed when he saw that it was only 7:37, but knew that his much smaller body would just be getting more tired. He switched off the tv, grabbed his bowl and juice box, and hopped down to the floor. Walking into his kitchen, he used the stool to put the dishes in the sink and run a little water in them. He put his juice box and paper towel into the trash, huffing in frustration when he saw that there were some red splotches on it. Feeling around his mouth and chin confirmed that he'd dribble... again, and so wet another paper towl to clean around his mouth and chin. He then brushed his teeth, checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, checked his diaper to find it only a little damp, and then made his way into his bedroom. There, his mattress lay right on the floor, sheets and blankets strewn about on it. Falling out and bumping his head had become a bit of a problem, and this had been his solution. Climbing in, he curled up under the blankets, remembering how his Dad had loved to read him stories when he was this little for bedtime, and how Mom always tucked him in. He let out a little whimper as he listened to his silent and empty house, and started to drift off to sleep. The next day... "Let's see... I'm feeling like... OH! Your Mom's orange chicken recipe!" Mia purred while pushing the cart through the aisles while talking on her phone. The panthress would stop and grab something off the bright yellow list her wife had written. She rounded the corner, and stopped. She spotted a cute little kitten with dark black fur like her own, with a splash of white on his muzzle and chin that matched the color of his wings. He was wearing a pair of denim shortalls over a red shirt. She wondered where his parents were, looking around to spot who might be accompanying the little boy. Then she saw him start climbing the shelves, clearly going for the Cocoa Bombs at the top. "Woah there!" She said, walking up and plucking him off the shelves, turning him around to face her. "That was too dangerous, little guy! You could have fallen and gotten hurt." She said this in a gentle yet firm voice, seeing his ears droop and a blush form on his cheeks. "Mia?" He squeaked out in embarrassment. It was right then that the panthress realized where she recognized this specific kitten from and set him right down. "M-Mr. Granna?" Now it was Mia's turn to blush, practically matching his own, despite her dark fur. "I am so sorry! I didn't know that it was you!" Tristan held up a paw. "It's alright, it was an honest mistake. And please, call me Tristan." Internally he cringed at how her light scolding had made him feel ashamed for what he'd been caught doing. "And... maybe it was a bit... ill advised of me to try and scale the shelves there. I guess I could have gotten an employee to help me get down the Cocoa Bombs." Mia had to choke back a coo at how adorable Tristan was when she first met him in the interview. She had heard of some people having an allergic reaction to the Rejuvenation formula, and thankfully his condition had been explained right before she had entered the room the interview was conducted in, but still. He was a little kitten with wings. She just wanted to pick him up and cuddle him nonstop right then and there! And now, here he was, looking guilty and chastened and just served to enhance his natural adorableness. "Well, since I'm already right here," Mia said, easily grabbing the box of cereal with the chocolate bat advertising the chocolate balls filled with marshmallow goodness. She handed it to him and her heart practically melted at the look of excitement on his face as he took it from her, practically hugging the box before he set it in a nearby shopping basket. Looking inside, she could see several cans of Pasta-O's, some packages of juice boxes,a jar of extra chunky peanut butter, and a loaf of bread. Thanking her for her help, Tristan started to push the basket down the aisle, leading Mia to suspect that he couldn't carry it. "Wait, Tristan!" She walked over to him, smiling as he looked up at her with those big blue eyes of his. She reigned herself back in, remembering that he had the mind of an adult, just in a toddler's body. "Yeah?" "That... looks like a lot for you to try and carry, and pushing it around seems like it'll take forever." "Okay? It's not like I've got much choice. I can't push a cart around." Tristan began to suspect what Mia was getting at. "How about I help? We can put your things on the left side of the cart, and I can grab anything else off the high shelves for you?" Mia was worried that maybe she'd overstepped. Tristan mulled it over for a bit. "Well... okay, I guess that could work... but I am NOT riding around in the baby seat!" He crossed his arms at that, trying to look stern. Mia again almost cooed at the kitten before her. "Deal!" She then bent down and grabbed his basket, gently putting his items on the left inside her own cart, and scooting a few things over to the right. Walking side by side, they continued shopping, with Mia getting looks at the items on Tristan's list. She couldn't help but notice that a lot of his food seemed to be meals already made or in cans. "Oh my goodness," an elderly female coyote said with a happy smile. "Your little one is just so sweet and well-behaved! You must be so proud!" Tristan had to fight the urge to correct this lady and inform her that he is indeed an adult, just one that was regressed, and most certainly not Mia's child. "Uh... thank you so much!" Mia was polite and blushed a little, looking down at Tristan and shooting him a pleading look. He just sighed and waved his paw dismissively. When the old lady was out of earshot did they resume speaking. "Sorry about that, Tristan." "It's okay... better than someone picking me up and carrying me to the manager to report a lost child... again..." "Do things like that happen often?" Tristan blushed. "Yeah... I mean, I know that they mean well, but it really stinks regardless." They rounded a corner, and Tristan's blush deepened. It was the baby care aisle. At first, Mia didn't get why he looked so embarrassed, until; it clicked for her just where in the store they were. "O-oh! We can just go around another aisle..." "Can't... I... kinda need to get some things here." Tristan kept his voice even as he walked past a row of bibs and a row of pacifiers. Mia followed behind, watching the kitten slow down in the diaper section. He looked through all the different packages before grabbing a big red Snuggies pack. His cheeks now almost crimson, he avoided looking at the larger feline, and set it on the little shelf under the cart. This was followed by a tub of wipes and a canister of baby powder. "Okay, I'm done here," he said, starting to walk off. Mia followed behind. just wanting to pick him up and hug him and let the downtrodden kitten know that everything was going to be okay. As they walked to the register area, Mia felt a need to cut through the sudden tension. "Y'know, I love cooking. Maybe Sally and I can have you over some time for a nice home cooked meal." "Uh... that sounds nice," Tristan said, trying to sound polite. They reach the checkout in silence, apart from another nice older lady, this one a mouse, again complimenting Mia for how well-behaved Tristan was. Mia started setting Tristan's items onto the belt first, followed by her own. Despite knowing better, Mia felt guilty about letting Tristan pay for his groceries. She smiled as the teenaged border collie smiled and handed him the bags, until he started to struggle, and then took the heavier things and set them back in Mia's cart. Tristan wanted to object, but elected not to, blushing in silence instead. With Mia's items paid for and bagged, the two exited the store. "Did you get a ride over here?" Mia asked, looking at Tristan expectantly. "Oh... uh... no. Fuber doesn't have many drivers out here, and only one of them has a carseat." Tristan began to rub the back of his head, something Mia was beginning to guess was a tell for when he was feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Wait... you walked all the way here?" Mia asked, suddenly terrified at the thought of the little kitten all by himself, where anything could happen. "How are you gunna carry all your groceries home?" "I brought something to help." Tristan pointed over to one of the decorative trees in front of the store. There, secured with a bike chain, was a little red wagon with a handle. "Tristan, please can I just drive you and your groceries home? It'll be much faster." Mia offered, hoping he would say yes. "That's real nice, Mia... but the law says that I have to ride in a car seat, and we haven't installed mine yet..." The panthress perked up at that. "Oh! But I have one installed already! Me and Sally watch our niece all the time!" The panthress' smile was so bright that Tristan couldn't bring himself to say something that might make it fade. "Uh... w-well, I guess if it isn't an inconvenience..." "Great!" Mia waited for Tristan to unlock and grab his wagon before the two walked in the direction of a powder blue minivan. Unlocking it, Mia slid the door open to reveal a bright pink car seat that Tristan rolled his eyes at. "She loves that unicorn princess cartoon!" Mia chuckled. She smiled as she picked Tristan up under his arms and gently set him in the soft cushiony seat. She hummed while securing the five point harness and gave a test tug, making sure that Tristan was nice and secure. This was followed by Mia going to the trunk and loading up the groceries and Tristan's little wagon before putting the cart in the cart corral, and then getting into the driver's seat. "Okay, Tristan, ready to give me directions?" Mia's voice took on a slightly cutesy tone that Tristan chose to ignore. "Yup." With the engine fired up and Mia pulling out, Tristan started directing her to his home. Mia looked at the ranch-style house and frowned a little. She saw that the paint was peeling and cracked, and the front yard's lawn looked very shaggy. Helping Tristan out and grabbing his groceries and wagon, she followed the kitten up to the front door, which he had to shove after unlocking it. The first thing she noticed after being invited inside was how the light socket in the ceiling just inside the door was missing a bulb. She spotted his uniform clothes strewn on the floor, and could see some dust had started to build up on some surfaces. "Uhm... I know that the place is a little bit of a mess..." "Your house is lovely," Mia said with a cheerful smile. She grabbed some bags and walked down the hall, looking into the first open door on her right. She looked inside the bathroom and instantly spotted the changing mat and supplies on the floor. Her heart started to hurt at the realization that Tristan was truly living alone. "Do you... have any family?" "No..." Tristan didn't mean for it to sound curt, but he walked past Mia with some grocery bags in his paws. He headed towards the kitchen, and Mia spotted the open door to his bedroom, seeing the mattress on the floor. Mia helped Tristan to put away the groceries, letting him take his diapers into the bathroom himself. Sighing, Mia smiled at him when he came right back out. "You know, I'm planning on making some homemade orange chicken for me and Sally tonight..." She noticed how Tristan's ears perked up at that, but he frowned and shook his head. "Thanks, but I've got dinner planned for tonight..." "Maybe I could bring some over later?" Mia offered, looking down at him hopefully. Tristan felt conflicted, but the idea of orange chicken sounded so good. It had been so long. "Well... okay... if you really don't mind." "It'll be my pleasure!" Mia felt her heart warm knowing that the kitten she was looking at wasn't going to be eating only Pasta-O's tonight. With a goodbye, and double-checking that he was okay by himself, Mia left, closing the door behind her. On her way to the car she immediately dialed up her wife. "Sally, hun? I just ran into my new coworker, the one who's gunna train me." "That nice older badger?" Sally's voice asked. "No, the little cutie!" "OH! The little kitten with the mind of an adult?" "Yes! The poor little guy lives all alone!" "Wait... no one's helping him take care of himself?!" Mia heard Sally let out an involuntary squawk. "Yeah! And he seems to mostly eat canned food! I promised him that I'd bring over some of our orange chicken tonight!" "Oh the poor little guy!" "I think he might need a little help..." And there it is folks, the first part of a new story! Let's see where it goes!

Rei was a small 10 year old currently walking home to see what looked like an old mansion “That must be the mansion that everyone in school is talking about

Anya was happily sitting in her aisle seat, waiting for the plane to take off. She was finally getting a vacation from her demanding job, getting to spend a whole month on the sunny beaches of Greece! She couldn't wait to get to her hotel and lay down on a nice, luxurious bed, before going for a dip in the warm water. She was so busy day dreaming, however, that she didn't notice when a man came, hiping to get into his seat that she was blocking. She gasped a bit when she felt his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look down at the sweet little man. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, dear." She cooed and got up, allowing him to get in next to her. He was stuck in the middle seat, even though the window seat was empty! For Anya, this was no problem. She was absolutely thrilled to be flying alongside of such a polite boy. She noticed that the boy was a bit jittery, and his eyes were wide. "Is everything alright dear? Is this your very first flight?" She hadn't yet come to the realisation that this was an adult! "Relax, my dear, I'm sure this will go alright." She stated in a soft, motherly tone. She herself hadn't ever been blessed with children, or even a husband, but she had always loved children, and this boy next to her was, in her mind, a child. So, she figured she would try to talk him though the time to hopefully make him feel better. "What brings you on this flight, dear?" She asked, reaching over and putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're all by yourself? No parents or anything?" She asked with a concerned frown. "It's an awfully long trip for a boy your age... Are you visiting family?" She questioned. While she had a very nice designer bag there under her seat, she noticed that he had a scruffy backpack. Immediately she grew more concerned- what was with the family? Would they seriously let a little boy travel alone without any proper luggage?

Diapered on a Camping Trip: Chapter 1 A/N: Here's another story with a slightly different plot than my previous ones. This story focuses on a pre-established Diaper Lover who admits his love of diapers to his rommmate and his rommmate's girlfriend! They all plan a camping trip together, little does he know the couple has more plans for him than roasting marshmallows. General warnings for this story: Sissy activity, dubious consent with regression, wetting diapers, messing diapers. Possible warnings for future chapters that I may or may not get into are: Breastfeeding, enemas, humiliation, and sexual content. I hope you all enjoy! Telling his roommate (and his roommate's girlfriend by proxy) about his diapers was the greatest thing Steven had ever done, he thought as he stacked his suitcase in the back of said roommate's car. At first, it was just out of necessity. After moving out of his parents’ house and into the apartment with his best friend Hayden, Steven was nearly bursting at the seams to finally indulge in his little quirk. The only hang-up was doing it where Hayden wouldn’t see it. Steven ordered his first case of diapers as soon as the last box was unpacked and waited anxiously for it to arrive. “Hey, I have a package coming,” Steven told Hayden casually that morning. “If it shows up before I’m home can you put it in my room?” “Yeah, sure, no sweat,” Hayden said, more focused on making breakfast than questioning what was in the package at all. This continued for the first few months they lived together. Steven occasionally ran into issues disposing of his used diapers discreetly, but that was the only hurdle. That is until Amelia showed up. Amelia was Hayden’s long-time girlfriend. Steven had met her and even hung out with her on a few occasions, but now that they had their own place, she was over almost every day! And she was quite insistent on pulling Steven along in their dates. If there was a movie night, she’d ask him to come watch it with them, if they were going out to dinner, she was asking him to join. It was very sweet of her in a way that didn’t make Steven feel like a third wheel, but at the same time, it encroached on his diaper time. And then it finally came to a head one day. Steven ordered his diapers as usual and waited for them to arrive. Hayden was given the same instructions to just put them on his bed. Only, Steven was mortified to come home after work one day to see Amelia and Hayden digging through his box of diapers right in the living room. Both their heads turned toward him like sharks in freshly chummed water and Steven could barely keep himself from walking out. “Why would you open my mail?!” He cried out in offense, face burning red and charging toward his room. He didn’t care about collecting his diapers right at that moment. He just wanted to hide and never resurface again. Only, Amelia stepped in front of his door with her arms spread wide. “Don’t be mad at Hayden!” She cried, eyes watering. “It was my fault. I ordered some makeup pallets to be delivered here and I thought the package was mine without even looking at the label.” She often had makeup delivered to their apartment so that it didn’t sit out in the sun on her porch. Steven didn’t even think about the possibility of her opening his diapers by mistake. Still, the shame burned bright within him. “Move. I want to go to my room.” He pouted, looking down at his shoes so that he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “Hey, man,” Hayden’s voice called from the couch. “Let’s talk this out, okay? We promised to resolve every conflict before going to our rooms.” That was one of the conditions they created when they moved in together… Steven gave a shaky sigh and plopped onto the couch farthest away from the open box. That night, he explained his diaper inclination to the pair, encouraged by their curious glances without a hint of judgment. And, much to his relief, they were quite accepting of it. To the point where Amelia packed his box back up with care and offered to carry it back into his room. “I think these are the cutest,” She couldn’t help but mention, pointing to the case on top that had little lions on it. “Are you going to wear one tonight?” “Uh,” Steven had stuttered. He did plan on wearing that night, but it was something different to tell her that. “Maybe…” “Don’t be shy if you do,” She said sweetly. “We were planning to watch some movies tonight and I’d hate for you to be too embarrassed to join us. Okay?” And Steven did. From then on, he wasn’t shy about his diaper-wearing around the couple. And everything went back to normal…just with a little bit of diapers involved. And so, as Steven loaded his luggage in the back of Hayden’s car, he couldn’t help but think it was an amazing thing that Amelia opened that box. Because now they were going on a week-long camping trip, he was encouraged to bring his diapers along for the whole trip. Amelia, the sweet woman that she was, even bought a diaper bag to store extra diapers and supplies in for the 12-hour trip to the campsite. Her eyes had been wide with glee as she picked a handful of diapers from his stash to fill the bag with, adding in a bottle of baby powder, wipes, and cream “just in case” she said sweetly. The trio loaded into the car with excitement buzzing all around. Only, Steven blinked in surprise as Hayden followed him to the back seat and made sure his seatbelt was buckled up tightly. “Just making sure you put it on,” He said casually. “Do you need a diaper change before we go?” Steven’s face burned red. “No! I just put this one on!” He said shyly, shifting around to hear the faint crinkling of the thick diaper as if to prove his point. Not deterred at all, Hayden reached down and pulled the front of Steven’s basketball shorts open to peer at the front of his diaper. “Hayden!” Steven cried out embarrassed. “Calm down, I’m just making sure,” Hayden said dismissively, letting the waistband go with a snap. “Diaper butt dry and ready for a roadtrip,” He announced to Amelia. “I wonder for how long that will last,” Amelia giggled much to Steven’s protest. “I can hold it!” Steven denied. “I think he won’t last an hour,” Hayden bet as if Steven hadn’t spoke. “I give him two hours,” Amelia said kindly. “But Steven you have to tell us when you need a change so we know which of us is right.” “I-” Steven stuttered. “No!” “Are you just going to sit in a wet diaper the entire 12 hours?” She asked with concern, making Steven feel just slightly like an asshole. “Baby, that’s bad for your skin!” Head ducking down, Steven muttered, “I’ll say something.” “Yay!” Amelia cheered. __________ Hayden was right, though. Steven barely lasted 45 minutes down the road before his bladder was twitching. It must have been his overzealous diaper usage because he didn’t remember holding his pee taking so much effort. And it didn’t help that Amelia was handing him small bottles of juice from the diaper bag to sip on as the minutes ticked by. Steven’s first wetting happened 48 Minutes into the drive. Embarrassed, and slightly spiteful, Steven kept his mouth shut. He put on enough baby powder and the diaper was thick enough that he was sure it could hold another wetting with no problem. That wetting came followed by 3 more bottles of juice and another wetting only 40 minutes later. Just what was the deal with all this pee? He’d never gone twice in the same two hour span! As the 2 hour marker approached, Amelia and Hayden kept making glances at him from the front seat. But Steven was determined to keep his mouth shut until the first rest stop. “That’s two hours!” Amelia said proudly and unbuckled her seatbelt. Steven watched her confused as the car was still moving. Only, for his surprise, she climbed over the center console and slid into the back seat with him! Her hands fiddled until they unbuckled his seatbelt. But the swell of his diaper was obvious even though the thin basketball shorts. “We have a wet one back here!” She giggled. “Amelia-” Steven tried to protest but was shushed. Amelia pushed and shoved Steven until he was laying down across the back seat and her hands yanked down his basketball shorts without hesitation. “Oh, he’s super wet!” She laughed. Kneeling over him, Amelia pulled up both of Steven’s knees to expose the butt of his diaper. If he wasn’t wearing it, he’d have everything out on display! “This is definitely two wettings. Maybe even three!” “No!” Steven tried to deny only for Amelia’s hand to rest on the front of his diaper and squeeze. “I think so, baby,” She smirked. “You little fibber. I should wash your mouth out with soap! Hayden, toss me the diaper bag.” The diaper bag was tossed back with an answering laugh causing Steven to hide his face in his hands. “Amelia, stop it!” “Stop what?” She asked, rooting around in the diaper bag before pulling out a clean diaper. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just changing a baby’s soaked little pamper.” Steven felt his stomach drop but also his heart flutter. Oh god. There was no way she was actually doing what she said she was. They were in a car! There were no cars around, sure, but they were in a car and she wanted to change him! She never changed him before! And now she suddenly wanted to in a car?! What the hell was going on?!

ALICE Alice is 25 years old. She is a tall girl and has a stature to carry with a remarkable presence. Her bright eyes are like the sky on a clear day, captivating one's gaze and rendering a person a feeling of depth and calm. Red waves flowing around her face frame it, expressing her lively and passionate character. She has a well-toned body, acquired only by a constant devotion to physical exercises, which is visible through her well-developed muscles. The large breasts add a touch of femininity and prettiness to the already prominent figure of hers. SARA Sara is 24 years old. She has black hair and her eyes are dark as the night; with it, she has a quite mysterious and intriguing charm. Compared to Alice, she is of a smaller stature, though her presence is equally significant. Her slender body is almost fragile, with thin lines that, however, stress her natural elegance. Sara has a deep quality of reserve and gravity, usually reflected in her compelling gaze. Her type of beauty is sophisticated and discreet, as well as her character, which often has small notes of quiet inner strength and determination. MELISSA Melissa is 22 years of age and thus the youngest. Youthful, fragile features of her face give the girl a somewhat babyish air and make her instantly lovely and cute. Her eyes are shining with innocence and curiosity, reflecting her lively and playful character. Melissa is slightly above 1.5 meters, and her very small breasts are in perfect correspondence with the slender figure. Even though her body is small, the spirit is big and the energy is contagious to bring joy and lightness wherever she goes. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- " No, I'm not going to wear that just to pay less for our vacation!" Said Melissa, stamping her feet on the ground. "Come on, you were drawn, Sara and I had the same odds as you," said Alice holding up the diaper-it was an adult diaper with childish designs. "I know but it's not fair that in order to pay less for the cruise I'm forced to spend all my time dressed like a 2 1/2-year-old." "Either you put it on yourself or we'll put it on you! " said Alice approaching threateningly. Melissa huffed and took the diaper from Alice's hands. She went to the bathroom, took off her panties and tried to put on the diaper herself. It was a genuine feat: she had to lean her ass against the wall while she held the base of the diaper in place with her legs. After a few minutes She managed to get it in. The diaper was very tight around her, at the top it reached above her belly button in front, tightened at the level of her thighs and then re-opened around her bottom. The decorations were savannah-themed, in the front was a drawn lion while behind the fabric had a lush design of plants, fruits and other African animals. She stopped to read the brand name on the package: 'Reaz Safari'. Who on earth could have worn these things voluntarily. She paused to feel the feel of the diaper on her: it was thick and soft; she could feel the plastic touching her skin. She turned to look at the back. The diaper also covered her bottom, in fact the diaper was so loose that it covered her almost completely, leaving her with the typical look of a padded bottom. Probably if she had fallen she would not have been hurt at all. She turned red when at the first step she heard the typical creak. "Here's your dress," said Alice irrupting into the bathroom. Melissa instinctively put her hands in front to cover the diaper; but then she realized it was quite useless. She did not even try to protest when she saw the little dress; she would have been obliged by Alice anyway. Then there was hope that she had covered the diaper. The dress was white with a black bow at breast level, the skirt was wide and seemed to cover the diaper quite well. She did not realize that if she bent over she would show her rear to everyone. "I hate you," Melissa said as she climbed into Sara's car. Of course, she was sitting in the back. The vacation consisted of a month-long all-expenses-paid cruise. Children up to age 3 were not paid. The plan was to pretend Melissa was the adopted daughter of sara and alice, who in turn would pretend to be a newly married couple. Soon they arrived at the boarding gate where the stewardess was waiting for them. "Well welcome! Your room is on the third floor at the family deck," She said, handing the key to Alice. Then She lowered himself looking at Melissa " hello baby, what is your name?" "Melissa," She said blushing and looking down. " I see the baby is still wearing diapers, no problem our baby care has already put some in your room and will provide you with as many as you need, I hope to see her soon at the baby club" Melissa tried to open her mouth but Alice promptly shoved the pacifier into her mouth to silence her. "Perfect, see you at the presentation, " Sara said, taking Melissa by the hand and heading for the room. It was not easy for Melissa to keep up with Sara's quick pace; her diaper forced her to hold her legs open and walk swaying. Upon arriving at the room, all three were amazed: they had been assigned an entire suite! There was a living room with a sofa and a plasma television, a small bar area, a room with a double bed, and another room was made especially for a child: a crib decorated with a maritime theme, a cabinet full of toys and a carpet with puppets, and finally there was a cambina armadio full of baby clothes suitable for melissa. "Well I guess this is the baby's room," Alice said, patting the bottom stuffed with lemon balm. "Kill yourself," said Melissa, spitting the pacifier at her. Alice laughed, then the three headed for the bathroom. The bathroom had a huge tub, in which all 3 of them would fit easily. At the back was also the changing table: it was a tall, white cabinet with padding on the part Melissa would lie on. On the sides were drawers full of diapers: there were ones for the pool, for the night and for the day, all decorated with different patterns. Finished the sweep Sara undressed completely, putting on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then went to lie down on the couch. "Well it says that we can't leave the room until the ship sails, so we can unpack," proposed Alice. "Can I take off this diaper?" Melissa asked annoyed. "No way, if someone from room service came in? It would blow up everything," Sara replied "At least take off this dress," Melissa said, raising her arms "Aren't you able to do it yourself?" Said Alice. " children don't change themselves," replied melissa. Alice did not respond; she simply removed Melissa's dress and replaced it with a T-shirt. "Aperitif?" Proposed the girl in bundles. "Sure," replied the other two. Sara went to uncork a bottle of white wine and soon returned with glasses. Alice, like Sara received a goblet, while Melissa got her drink inside a baby bottle. Melissa stopped and looked at him for a moment, immediately noticing that the figures drawn were in tone with his diaper. "Why do I have to drink from this thing?" Melissa asked in disgust. "Children don't know how to drink from adult glasses, " Alice said, sticking her tongue out at her. Melissa sighed but decided to give it a try, holding him with two hands at head height, she grabbed the teat with her mouth and tried to suck, immediately her mouth filled with the sweet taste of wine. "I thought worse," She thought. "So child? How is she?" Sara asked, noticing that Melissa was not responding. "Well it's not so bad, I can drink lying down," replied Melissa as she detached herself from the bottle. Soon the conversation of the three veered to the schedule about the month of vacation, which left Melissa on the sidelines-she did not feel much like doing the things that were planned especially when dressed as a child. Solo, however, was happy when Alice ordered more wine. Another half hour passed, Melissa had almost finished her second bottle, when she felt a sensation she never wanted to feel: she had to pee. She tried to resist, but the pressure on her bladder increased more and more. At a certain point she could not resist got up and walked toward the bathroom "What's going on? Where are you going?" Said Alice " according to you? I'm going to the bathroom," Melissa replied. Sara laughed:" your toilet is on you," she said referring to the diaper. " There is no way I am going to pee in this thing" shouted melissa. "Of course you will, and you'll have to get changed, too, since those diapers are designed not to be taken off by the wearer." Melissa could not believe her ears, had no intention of peeing herself like a baby, tried to pull one of the rips in her diaper but did not move "Hurry up so we can get back to chatting " continued Alice. "You're a bitch," replied Melissa, trying to open her diaper. "If you behave and have a tantrum, I will change you baby right away," Sara said. Melissa couldn't take it anymore, she felt drops of urine coming out already. She had no choice but to use her own diaper, like a 2-year-old. Melissa opened her legs slightly and began to pee, felt the flow hit the plastic of her diaper and settle between her legs. She could feel the diaper expanding and becoming warmer, heavier and wetter. But eventually the dampness disappeared, leaving only the warmer plastic. I've already published the next parts to my ream account. Subscribe to get early access to the new adventures of Anna and Melissa. https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon Also there exclusive stories for my subscribers

Hi, this story was written together with my new friend tini baby Ami 🧸. Feel free to follow her on twitter she is a very nice and very nice girl. You can find her at this link: https://x.com/bbyybratt I also remind you that I have a ream account: https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon If you sign up for my account you will get early access to the next chapters of stories I am publishing and access to new exclusive stories. Also you can request a custom story a bit like I did with ami. "Yawnnn" yawned ami with her eyes still half-closed. She was lying on her stomach with her legs spread apart because of the extra bulk of her diaper and her favorite teddy bear beside her. Through the bars of her crib she looked at the clock hanging on the relative in her bedroom: it was 8:30 am...it was early...her dad would come to wake her up at 9:00 am. She stretched herself out by sitting up, her heavily soaked diaper still attached to her. The soft garment wrapped around her legs binding firmly to her hips. The diaper covered her belly button, tightening toward her pubis and then opening to cover her entire bottom. She felt the wet plastic touching her skin, the sensation was not unpleasant too bad too bad that the contents of her diaper had now cooled overnight. Grabbing onto the bars of the crib,Shegot on his knees, feeling the diaper sag under the effect of gravity. She did not want to wait any longer and standing on the mattress began to shout," Daddyyyy." She wanted so badly to get out of her crib and start the day that she found herself jumping on the mattress trying to raise her voice. With each jump her wet diaper moved in harmony with her rustling with her every movement. Good morning baby," said ami's boyfriend as he entered the bedroom. "Someone here needs a clean diaper," she continued but ami ignored him too excited by the sight of her daddy. " Do you know what day it is today " ami said. Her boyfriend lowered the side of the crib and before the padded girl knew it she was in his arms. She could feel her boyfriend's strong hands sistering her by squeezing her padded bottom as she crossed her legs around his back. "Happy birthday baby," he said, kissing her on the pacifier. Ami returned the kiss by pushing her head back to her boyfriend's face. " Thank you daddy," she whispered, smiling from behind her pacifier. "Let's go to the kitchen, I have a surprise for you." Ami clung even tighter to the boy as she was carried in his arms toward the kitchen. She had her back to the direction of travel so the surprise was even better: at one side of the table was an adult high chair. "O my god it is beautiful " said ami. She was speechless.The high chair was tall and sturdy, light pink with a white cushion and a backrest that reached up to her head.The frame of the high chair had a small white table that lowered to rest the dishes. Ami gasped when her boyfriend closed the three-point belt between her legs tightening her diaper. Her legs were dangling even though the coffee table prevented her from seeing them. "I want pancakes!" Said Ami "Okay, but how do you say it?" replied the boy. " Pleaseeeee" replied ami trying to make his eyes soft. And in the blink of an eye in front of her, on the tray of the high chair, appeared a colorful plate with a stack of golden pancakes, still warm and fluffy, giving off an inviting scent of vanilla and butter. The little girl picked up a plastic fork, with a child-sized ergonomic handle, and tried to stab a small piece of pancake. She had a concentrated expression on her face, with her tongue sticking out slightly as she strove to complete the task. A few pieces of pancakes are already scattered on the tray, and around his mouth she has traces of maple syrup, which Father gently poured over the pancakes before serving them. She made little sounds of joy and satisfaction at the first bite; they were delicious. He took a sip of apple juice from his favorite bottle, trying not to spill it all over himself. Eventually 1/3 of the food ended up on his bib and his mouth. Her boyfriend sighed; it was a great achievement that ami had been able to eat almost everything. "Shall we change that diaper?" She said at the end of breakfast. The little girl raised her huge eyes to her boyfriend and nodded, putting the pacifier back in her mouth. Her boy unbuckled her high chair belt, leaving her free to climb down. She giggled when she saw ami's butt sway with every step she took. Ami giggled as she lay down on the changing table and got a full view of the state of her diaper: it was really time to change. Daddy began to speak softly as he opened the package of diapers, "I know a story: once upon a time there was a little princess named Ami. She was sweet and brave, and her daddy was her personal knight. Every morning, after a fabulous breakfast, the knight helped her get ready for new adventures." As she talked, Daddy gently cleaned Ami with wet wipes, being careful not to tickle her. Then, he took a fresh, pink and white diaper with a bunny drawn on it and placed it under her. "And then what happened, Dad?" asked Ami, completely absorbed in the story. "Then Princess Ami wore her new, soft, fragrant magic dress," Daddy continued, carefully closing the diaper. "And together with her knight, they explored the kingdom, discovering new wonders and facing small challenges with courage and a smile." Ami laughed, happy and reassured. "And the knight was always there to help the princess, wasn't he?" "That's right, my dear," Daddy replied, lifting her from the changing table and giving her an affectionate kiss on the forehead. "Always here to make sure your princess was happy and safe." Ami hugged her dad tightly, feeling all the love and protection that only he could give. "Thank you, daddy. You are the best knight ever." Father smiled, holding her close. "And you are my favorite princess, Ami. Now let's go play, the kingdom is waiting for us!" She sat down, looking at the capovaloro that her fiancé had accomplished: in the front, the diaper was decorated with a stylized lion, its orange mane standing out brightly against the white background. The lion's cute smile was framed by small colorful patterns and stars, creating a playful and welcoming atmosphere. There was also a small rainbow above the lion, adding a touch of magic to the design. Looking at his butt in the mirror Ami found another lion, but this time inside a rainbow, which seemed to embrace him with its pastel colors. When the inspection was over, Ami put on her favorite pink T-shirt and a short white skirt that, with each step, gave a glimpse of the colorful diaper underneath. The skirt moved lightly as she ran toward the exit, eager to begin her adventure in the park. "Ready to go to the park, princess?" asked Daddy, taking her hand while holding a diaper bag in the other. "Yes, Dad! I can't wait!" replied Ami with a radiant smile. Together, they walked along the path that led to the park, enjoying the warm sunshine and the birds singing. Ami squeezed her daddy's hand, feeling like a little girl in a world full of surprises. Once they arrived at the park, her eyes lit up as she saw the games: swings, slides, and lots of other children laughing and playing. "Can I go on the slides, Dad?" asked Ami, already heading toward the play area. "Sure, honey. Go and have a good time. I'll be right here watching you," Dad replied, sitting down on a nearby bench and grabbing a book to read. Ami ran to the slides, her heart full of excitement. She climbed the ladder with agility and sat at the top of the slide, ready to go down. Not realizing that she was showing everyone her padded bottom. With a squeal of delight, she launched herself down, feeling the coolness of the metal beneath her and the soft diaper that protected her. Each time she slid down, she heard the gentle rustle of the diaper, which gave her a feeling of safety and comfort. After a few laps she felt the diaper warm up as she peed in it. Her daddy looked at her proudly, appreciating her joy and energy. "You're doing great, Ami!" he shouted to her when she reached the end of the slide. Ami climbed right back up, repeating the game over and over again, never getting tired. Each descent was a new adventure, and her daddy was always there to encourage her and share in her laughter. After a while, Ami decided to explore the swings as well. She sat on one of the swings and began to swing, feeling the wind in her hair and the beat of her heart synchronizing with the movement. Once again, the diaper offered comfortable protection, allowing her to fully enjoy the game without any thought. "Dad! You push me higher and higher!" cried Ami, rocking harder and harder. "Up!" She cried out as her boyfriend pushed her from her padded bottom. Then suddenly she broke away and with flight landed in front of the swing, her skirt went up and everyone saw ami's used diaper. But no one cared: she was a child like the others. After about half an hour ami felt a little discomfort in his belly. She knew what it meant: she had to poop. She paused for a moment, thinking about what to do. She had two options: run to her daddy and tell him so they could go home, or do it in her diaper and keep playing. She looked at her boyfriend sitting on the bench, smiling at her encouragingly. Ami thought about how much fun she was having and did not want to stop the game. She therefore decided to use her diaper. She squatted down behind a large plant near the slides, out of sight of the other children, and relaxed. The initial feeling was a little strange, but the diaper was designed to handle such situations, and she soon felt more comfortable. Once she was done, she stood up again, feeling the weight of the diaper but also great relief. she took a deep breath glad she did not have to interrupt his day at the park. She chuckled when she touched his padded butt with his right hand to feel the lump that had just formed. “Let's get back to playing,” she said, adjusting her skirt. As she played, she felt the smell from her diaper, but it did not bother her. She was happy that she could continue to have fun without worry. With her diaper loaded she climbed up the slide and without thinking about it she let herself fall onto the hard plastic feeling all the contents of the diaper squish against her. As she finished her descent, she turned to look at the state of her diaper: the lump was gone and the plastic looked amazingly smooth "Well at least it's not noticeable now," She said, chuckling. Around lunchtime "Daddy!" called Ami, running toward him. "I've been playing so much!" "I'm glad you're having fun, honey," Daddy replied, hugging her. " here someone smells like a little girl who pooped herself," he said, squeezing her padded bottom. "Oops," chuckled Ami, "I'm the princess with the stinky diaper," she said, almost bursting out laughing. "Let's go home and have lunch, I have a surprise for you." When they arrived home, Daddy picked her up and carried her to her nursery. "It's time to change you, princess," he said softly, setting her down on the changing table. The change was not so simple; Ami, however, was eager to know what the surprise was that Father had promised her. She kept moving, turning around and trying to peek into the room. "Daddy, Daddy! What's the surprise?" she asked excitedly, unable to sit still. "Just a moment, Ami. First I'll change you, and then you'll see," Father replied, trying to calm his inexhaustible energy. As Daddy removed her soiled diaper and gently cleaned her, Ami half-pulled herself up, still without a diaper, trying to see what Daddy was preparing. "What a mess I made," she said, commenting on the state of her dirty open diaper. "You've done worse, remember that time at the Mexican's," he said. "LOL, my diaper was up to my knees," replied ami laughing. "Come on give me a hint," she said clutching her legs. "Ami, stand still for a moment, otherwise I can't finish changing you," said Father, laughing. "I promise you'll see the surprise in no time." Ami lay down again, but kept moving, tapping her little feet impatiently. Daddy finished cleaning her and put a fresh diaper on her, trying to be quick but without neglecting gentleness. "Are you ready, princess?" asked daddy, helping her to her feet and removing her shirt. Leaving ami only in her diaper on. "Yes, yes, yes!" replied Ami, jumping for joy. Her breasts bounced with her ( kind of like her diaper) "Now can I see the surprise?" Ami was returned to the high chair. "Yes, you can now," Father said with a smile. "But you have to close your eyes." Ami closed her eyes, excited. She heard Papa moving around in the kitchen and then a faint sound of something large being placed in front of her. "You can open your eyes now, Ami." When she opened her eyes, Ami saw a giant cream cake, decorated with fresh strawberries, right in front of her high chair. The cake was tall and fluffy, and the cream looked super soft. "Oh, Dad! She is beautiful!" exclaimed Ami, her eyes wide with surprise. "And there's another detail," Dad said with a mischievous smile. "Today you will eat cake with your hands!" Ami laughed, amused by the idea. "Really, Dad?" "Really. It's a special day, and I want you to enjoy it," Dad replied, patting her on the head. Ami wasted no time. She sank her hands into the soft cream, feeling the freshness and softness between her fingers. She took a large piece of cake and brought it to her mouth, smearing her cheeks and laughing with delight. The cream was sweet and velvety, a strawberry fell right in the middle of her breast. Her boyfriend looked at her, laughing and taking a few photos to capture that precious moment. "You look really lovely, Ami. I hope you like the cake." "It's the best cake ever!" replied Ami, her mouth full and the cream dripping onto her hands and body. Each bite was a feast of flavors, and each time she sank her hands into the cake, she felt happier and more loved. She continued to eat enthusiastically, getting dirtier and dirtier. The cake seemed endless, but Ami did not stop until the plate was empty. "Ahhh," she sighed as she leaned back in the back of the high chair and emptied her own bladder into her diaper. After a while, when the cake was almost finished and Ami was covered in cream, Daddy picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. "It's time for a good cleaning, princess." End of part 1

This is still a WIP and will change and get fleshed out. This is actually my long haul project but got this done today. It was a beautiful Friday morning in July. Amy had just finished her shower and went downstairs for her coffee while Rachel got herself freshened up. She liked having her first cup of coffee before her roommate came down. She poured it into her glass and went outside on their deck. They both lived in a two-story house in the city which they had bought only a year ago. Both of them were in their early 30’s and had been friends for around 10 years. Actually, they were the bestest of friends. They had met each other in a coffee shop in another city and just clicked. Amy had just finished at the nail salon next door and Rachel needed a break from her stressful day. Her job had stressed her out and she needed to unwind and decompress for a bit. On her way out, Amy had just casually complimented her dress which led to talking which led to a real heart to heart conversation. Flash forward to a year ago, they both got sick of the bad apartments they kept getting stuck with and after months of searching, found a beautiful house in a very thriving Neigbourhood of the city they both grew up in. Currently, Amy was taking in the beauty of their backyard. She loved summer and being able to be outdoors. The winters were so harsh and cold. As she finished her last sip, Rachel came out. “Enjoying the scenery,” she asked. “Absolutely,” Amy replied. “You ready to go?” “All packed. Finished the last of it before I got out here. “ “Ok!” Amy excitingly exclaimed. "Call Curtis and find out where he’s at. “ Curtis was the third person in this trio friendship. All three of them were super close but Amy had known him since college. The three of them did a lot together, with Curtis only backing out of the girly things. “K. He said he was just coming up the sidewalk,” Rachel said. Amy went to the front door to answer and sure enough, there he was. She giggled. He had more luggage than they did. “Need a hand,” she asked him. “Nope. Got it. You two ready to head out?” “Ready and excited.” The three of them had been planning this weekend since early spring. All three loved the summer, being outdoors and exploring and had planned a weekend full of activities. First up was an hour's drive to a park where they planned on doing some hiking, followed by a picnic. Curtis loaded up Amy’s 4x4 and the three of them were off. After the picnic, they decide to just drive around a bit and explore. They went down one country road and found this huge building. Almost in unison they all said, “Wow!” The place was the biggest building they had ever seen, and they had been places. It was the size of two large football fields back-to-back. “Ok,” Amy said, “I never knew this was here. Anybody else?” The other two shook their heads. “Wonder what it is,” Rachel asked. “Or how long it’s been here,” Curtis added. “Place looks deserted. Not a single car in sight.” “Yet somehow, it is still in great shape,” Amy added. “Wanna go check it out?” All three of them nodded. Amy pulled the car into the driveway and parked in what was a rather large parking lot. No car there so they got front row seating. They got out of the car. “Anybody catch a name or sign anywhere,” Curtis asked. They looked around and sure enough, near the front entrance there was a sign saying, “To be a kid again.” All three were puzzled and pulled out their cell phones but could not get online. Only one bar of service that kept going on and off. Too curious to stop now, they walked up to the entrance. The double doors open automatically and once inside, they were even more confused.

Chapter One: The Incident The summer sun blazed high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the schoolyard. The air was warm and thick, filled with the sounds of children’s laughter and the distant hum of grasshoppers. The smell of freshly cut grass mingled with the faint aroma of hot asphalt, creating a distinctive scent of summer. The school, a large red-brick building with ivy creeping up its walls, stood as a sentinel overseeing the lively playground below. The distant sound of a teacher’s whistle occasionally pierced through the ambient noise, signalling the end of a game or a call to order. Liam, a tall and lanky 14-year-old, strode confidently across the schoolyard. His unruly hair caught in the warm breeze, giving him a wild, untamed appearance that matched his reputation. He was flanked by his friends, a group of boys who looked up to him as their leader. "Let's show everyone who runs this place," Liam said, his voice loud enough to carry over the noise of the playground. His friends nodded eagerly, their eyes darting around in search of their next target. Liam's gaze settled on Emily, a quiet, bookish girl who was walking passed the old, oak tree in the school grounds making her way towards the school building, her arms laden with books. "Hey, nerd! Where do you think you're going?" Liam jeered, his voice dripping with malice. Emily, a petite girl with straight, chestnut brown hair tied back in a neat ponytail, froze. She wore a simple white blouse and a pair of blue jeans. Her round glasses perched precariously on her nose as she tried to avoid eye contact. She had always been an easy target. Her quiet demeanor, combined with her academic excellence and impeccable behavior, set her apart from the others. "Come on, Emily," Liam called out, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Don't you want to hang out with us?" Liam's friends circled around Emily, blocking her path. As they did, the other kids in the playground began to move away, casting wary glances but not daring to intervene. Nobody wanted to risk becoming the next target of Liam and his gang. Emily lacked close friends who might stand up for her, making her even more vulnerable. Some kids looked sympathetic but quickly turned away, while a small group whispered quietly, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pity. She clutched her books tighter, her knuckles turning white. "P-please, let me go," she stammered, her eyes darting from one face to another, searching for an escape. One of Liam's friends, a stocky boy named Jason, nudged Liam with his elbow. "Go on, show her who's boss." Liam stepped closer, his smirk widening. He began pacing around her, occasionally shoving her books to add to her distress. "What's the rush, huh? Afraid you'll miss a class or something?" he taunted. The other boys laughed, their voices a chorus of mockery. "Yeah, Emily, why are you always such a loner? Think you're better than us or something?" one of them sneered. Emily's heart pounded in her chest. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The warmth of the sun was oppressive, and she felt herself starting to sweat, more from fear than the heat. Why does it always have to be me? she thought desperately. "Look at her, she's gonna cry!" another boy shouted, and the laughter grew louder, more mocking. Emily's vision blurred as the tears began to fall. She tried to speak, to plead with them to stop, but her voice was choked with sobs. Her body trembled, and a deep sense of humiliation and helplessness washed over her. Maybe if I just stay quiet, they'll get bored and leave, she hoped, but her hopes were in vain. "Aw, poor little Emily," Liam crooned, leaning in close and shoving her books harder. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" His words were like poison, each one a dagger aimed at her already fragile self-esteem. Suddenly, Emily felt a warmth spreading down her legs. She looked down in horror to see a dark stain forming on her jeans. The evidence of her complete and utter breakdown. The world seemed to close in around her, the laughter echoing in her ears, growing louder and more malicious. "Oh my God, she peed herself!" Liam howled, pointing at Emily with glee. "What a baby!" Emily's sobs turned into wails as she stood there, paralyzed with shame. Her face burned with humiliation, her tears mingling with the sweat on her cheeks. The boys' laughter reached a fever pitch, their taunts a relentless assault on her dignity. It was at this moment that a stern voice cut through the cacophony. "What on earth is going on here?" Mrs. Thompson, the school's principal, marched towards the group, her expression a mix of shock and fury. Her authoritative stride commanded immediate attention. The boys immediately stopped laughing, their faces draining of color. Liam's confident stance turned rigid with fear. His smirk vanished, replaced by a look of dread. They all turned to face Mrs. Thompson, who had seen enough to understand the gravity of the situation. "Liam, and all of you," Mrs. Thompson said, her voice icy. "My office. Now." Emily was left standing alone, tears streaming down her face as she tried to cover the stain on her jeans with her hands. Mrs. Thompson's eyes softened momentarily as she placed a gentle hand on Emily's shoulder. "It's okay, Emily. Come with me, let's get you cleaned up." As Emily and Mrs. Thompson walked away, the boys trudged towards the school building, knowing that their actions would have serious consequences. Liam's heart pounded in his chest, the reality of his behavior sinking in. The warm summer breeze continued to rustle the leaves of the old oak tree, as if whispering the lessons of the day to anyone who cared to listen.

An autobiographical story in which a girl recounts her unexpected regression. Thats a one shot story Part 1: Hi! im Silvia If someone asked me how all this started, I wouldn’t know how to answer. I only know that one morning I woke up, and the bed was wet. Obviously, my mother was not happy at all; she spent the morning yelling at me. She couldn’t understand how an 18-year-old girl could wake up in a wet bed and have no idea why. I don’t really remember the feeling of a wet bed; I just know that by the fourth night of lying in my own urine, my mother brought home a pack of pull-ups. The pull-ups were pink and covered in heart-shaped patterns. They weren’t like regular underwear; they were padded but more discreet compared to what I wear now. I cried and yelled at my mom, refusing to wear them, but in the end, she was right: I had become a stupid girl who wet the bed. The first time I wore them, I was surprised by how comfortable they were and how they didn’t show under my pajama pants. The next morning, I woke up dry. I was happy, moving my legs under the sheets, but then my hand reached the new underwear. Pressing it, I felt the imprint of a cold liquid still soaking the cover. I got up with my heart in my throat. My pull-up was soaked. I didn’t even tell my mother; she already expected it. I simply took it off, threw it away, and got dressed for class. And so I quickly went through the first two packs of 10 pull-ups: it had become a routine. In the evening, I brushed my teeth, put on the pull-up, and wore my pajamas. I even stopped changing it immediately; sometimes I went straight to breakfast. The worst part was when I lost control during the day. At first, it was just a more urgent need to pee, then a few drops would come out, and eventually, I ended up wetting myself freely. My mother took me to all the doctors in the world, but none could give me an answer. In the end, she gave up and made me wear pull-ups during the day. Then came the summer holidays, between wet pull-ups and often failed bathroom runs. Summer arrived, and it was time for diapers. I still remember the first time I pooped in my pull-up: I was at lunch and felt a strange sensation in my butt. It was like an itch that disappeared as soon as I pushed. I spread my legs and without realizing it, I pushed everything into my pull-up. The most embarrassing part was that I was in front of my mother, who looked at me in shock. That was the last time I wore pull-ups. I still remember the first diaper I wore. Of course, my mother spanked me heavily to make me wear it. The diaper was childish, white with a parade of bears carrying crayons on the front. The diaper came up over my navel, tightened at the level of my pubis, and then widened at my butt. It was incredibly comfortable, I felt like I was hugged by a cushion. At first, when my mother wasn’t looking, I played by patting my butt, marveling at the fact that I didn’t feel anything. Over time, my continence worsened: I wet myself freely, often without noticing, finding the diaper soaked. For pooping, it was different: I knew when I was doing it but didn’t have much warning. Eventually, I gave up trying to run to the bathroom and simply stopped wherever I was, spread my legs, and filled my diaper. The only thing that consoled me was that I was home for the summer holidays. What changed was my relationship with my mother: at first, I changed myself, not too happily when I smelled, and she commented that I didn’t put the diaper on correctly. Then she started automatically fixing the diaper tabs, ignoring my annoyed face. Then she started coming into my room while I was changing to see if I was doing everything right. Finally, she made me lie down, and she changed me. To be honest, I wasn’t too opposed, after all, it was one less dirty job. The only problem was that she started checking if I needed a change. Eventually, I became dependent on her; I no longer monitored the state of my diaper, and if my mother didn’t change me, I would stay in a dirty one for hours. It must have been the summer heat, but eventually, I started going around the house with just a t-shirt and the diaper in view, my mother cleaning my dirty butt, so who cared. I giggled when I saw myself in the mirror. I liked how my butt would sag and wobble after wetting. I even stopped noticing the smell of a dirty diaper. Then came the changing table. My mom bought it and put it in my bathroom: it was like a cabinet, painted pink, with drawers to keep my supplies. There was a purple ladder I used to climb up, and on top, there was a white mattress. It was very comfortable; I climbed up, lay down, and my mother did everything. I soon learned the difference between day and night diapers: the night ones were thicker, and I could sleep without fear of leaking. I realized I actually needed diapers one day, during a change, when I peed without noticing. My legs were still open, and the clean diaper had just been placed under my butt. Luckily, my mother was quick enough to close the front part, waiting for me to finish. Then I started sucking my thumb; I don’t remember how it happened the first time, I just know it ended up in my mouth automatically when I slept or did homework. After the thumb came the pacifier, “better for your teeth,” my mother said. The first pacifier was white and pink with a bunny drawn on it. I sucked on it often, not because it was really necessary, but because it was a habit, like I needed it to feel good or calm down. Then came the bottle: I started spilling the contents of glasses on myself, and soon my mother placed a bottle in front of me at dinner. I didn’t object; I was too thirsty. Drinking from a bottle was completely different: I could carry it around, drink lying down, drink while playing and studying. But what was strangest was my relationship with the outside world and my friends. Nobody cared that I was in diapers, nobody cared if I messed up in the middle of a store while shopping. The same went for my friends; they treated me like it was all normal, like the pacifier and diapers were my normal. It was different from how a child is treated, no, mine was normal, as if I were a regular 18-year-old girl. None of my friends said anything if my diaper was soaked, none seemed to notice my words distorted by the pacifier in my mouth. When we went out for drinks, I was sure my friends got a glass while I got a bottle. Eventually, I stopped worrying that people would see my diaper, nobody cared anyway, sometimes I even went out with just a t-shirt and the diaper in view. Part 2: Smelly diapers and highchair I forgot almost immediately that diapers were not my classic garment until a few weeks ago, simply as my friend clara wore pink panties, I had a nice padded diaper, white with pink hearts. After the pacifier, after the bottle, came the baby clothes. I discovered that I liked dungarees, especially with shorts; I also liked the bulge that could be glimpsed between my pubes and my bottom: it had become my outfit for evenings. To stay at home I often wore rompers: I had all kinds, one more childish than the other, and then according to my mother it was easier to change if there were buttons on my bottom. Another fact to recount is the sleepover at Clara's house. I showed up about 7 p.m.: I was wearing my favorite dungarees, pacifier in my mouth and hair pulled back in pigtails. I had my diaper bag with the essentials with me. Clara opened the door and let me in, we stood in the living room watching TV series, eating popcorn and drinking lots of coke of course from my bottle Toward the end of the first season my diaper was heavily in danger of leaking. It was at that moment that Clara surprised me by saying: " do you want me to change your diaper?" I turned and looked at her surprised; I had always thought that only my mother knew. " yes, if possible," I said somewhere between a flicker of shame and insecurity. He took me by the hand and walked me to the bathroom where he made me lie down. I didn't know what to say, I was embarrassed at first but then I realized it wasn't that different from when my mother did it so I let go. We finished changing and went to the bedroom where we chatted for a while as if it was normal for my best friend to change my diaper. Then Clara asked a question that amazed me: "How does it feel to poop in a diaper?" I looked at her a little stunned. "Well, I first feel a sensation on my bottom, as if my diaper wanted me to do it, then I feel that I have to push I spread my knees and do. I feel when my body starts to empty. When the poop comes out of me I can feel it flowing inside the diaper, like it's very hot and then it settles there until they change me," I replied with a splash of honesty. "It sounds extra gross," said clara. Eventually the strange questions ended and we went to bed. And so it was that July came between messy diapers and drunk bottles. It was on my birthday that my mother let me find the high chair: it was white, with two wooden dumbbells, one on the right, one on the left, and on one side, the seat was padded, white, like the small table that lowered over my legs. I didn't know what to say, the only thing I did was wet my diaper, strangely enough.... But my mother seemed so enthusiastic, so I indulged her. The feeling of being in a high chair is strange but I will try to describe it : the high chair is a taller chair and my legs are dangling, the padding is great, always to be on a cloud. The coffee table is lowered under my chest is comfortable because it is close and I don't get dirty with food What I learned after settling down is that diapers and high chairs are connected, if I wasn't padded and had to run to the potty I wouldn't get there in time. The only downside is that I have to depend on my mother to pass me the dishes and the baby bottle --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The last part is already out in my ream account, if u like my story pls subscribe to get priority access to my new parts e to others story that i dont publish here. https://reamstories.com/scrittoreanon

For Anna, all her dreams were finally coming true: she had just started medical school, her dream university; she had the opportunity to move out of her parents' house, with them buying her an apartment all for herself; and finally, she could enjoy the freedom she had longed for during the COVID isolation period. The apartment was just outside Milan, where her new university was located. It had an open-plan kitchen and dining area, a living room, a bathroom with a bathtub, and a beautiful bedroom with a walk-in closet. The cost of the apartment was certainly not cheap, but Anna's social situation allowed her to enjoy some luxuries. That morning, after a long walk with her suitcases and getting lost a couple of times, she finally managed to reach the front door, turn the doorknob, and collapse onto the couch to rest after the long journey. She laughed as she looked at herself in the mirror: she had left home dressed nicely, wearing a white blouse and a black skirt that reached mid-thigh, with a pair of white stockings, her hair neatly straightened and long almost to her waist; now, however, she was completely disheveled, her blouse was stained with who knows what, and the stockings had a small tear on the thigh. "I haven't even had time to arrive and I already have to take a shower and do laundry," she said sarcastically. After a short nap, she mustered up the courage to unpack her suitcase. As soon as she entered the bedroom, a strange object caught her eye: a rocking horse. It was adorned with pastel colors and feminine details. Its mane and tail flowed elegantly, made of silk or soft cotton threads, while its large, bright eyes were framed by long, slender lashes. The saddle was padded and decorated with small hearts or stars. Anna was surprised to see it, not so much because of the decorations, which were totally disconnected from the modern look of the room, but because it was sized for her. After an initial astonishment, she decided to simply dismiss it as a toy left by the previous owner and move it out of her room until they came to retrieve it. She finished unpacking her suitcase, and as she approached, she decided to take the reins to move it to the living room. "Come on, move, you stupid thing," she grumbled, annoyed. No matter how hard she pulled, the rocking horse swayed toward her but didn't move an inch. In the end, she gave up and went to order dinner. After a simple margherita pizza eaten in pajamas while watching a series on Netflix on the new television, she decided to go to bed, almost bumping into that huge toy placed in front of her bed. It wasn't an easy night; she kept thinking about that horse: whose is it? Why is it so big? Eventually, at 2:00 a.m., she entered the world of dreams. That night, Anna had the strangest dream of her life, at least so far, and oddly enough, it centered around that rocking horse. In the dream, Anna rode it, imagining epic battles where she was the warrior princess: after a long journey, she finally reached her castle and her bedroom. She lay down, and a strange sensation came to her mouth; she reached out her right hand and pulled out, with considerable surprise, a pink pacifier. Driiiiin, the alarm had already sounded twice when Anna, still stunned from the dream, got up to turn it off: today was her first day of classes at university. As in all universities, the first classes were orientation: the books to buy, the subjects to study, the exam procedures, and the internship activities to organize. The day passed quite quickly for Anna, although she couldn't shake off the dream, the pacifier, and especially the rocking horse. As if that wasn't enough, while searching for books on Amazon, she found herself in the section dedicated to pacifiers, amazed that some of them were so cute. The strangest thing was that, if she had bought it, the shipment would have arrived by the afternoon. "Fantastic," she thought, during lunch break, "I can order my books and have them arrive immediately if I also include the pacifier." She decided to get a white and pink one, with a bunny printed on the front plastic, blushing slightly at the idea of that order, but the opportunity helped her overcome the embarrassment. And so it was, when she returned home, a nice package had materialized in front of her door. She was completely fascinated by the books she had ordered: Anatomy, Histology, Biology, and... the pink pacifier, hiding at the bottom of everything. She laughed when she saw it and, laughing, decided to unwrap it and throw it on the couch with the idea of throwing it away after updating her new library. Part 2: new gadget She decided to arrange the notes on the couch: she took off the clothes she had worn during the day, deciding to stay in just a t-shirt and no pants; she grabbed the tablet and sat right next to the pacifier. She couldn't concentrate... her eyes kept looking at it, it was stronger than her. In the end, she sighed and picked it up, twirling it around her finger. "What do you have that's so interesting that I can't stop looking at you?" she said, putting it in her mouth. It was strange at first, but then slowly her mouth got used to it, starting to suck on it automatically. From that moment on, Anna was able to fully concentrate, and after 2 hours, she had finished her notes. She got up to go to the bathroom, and as soon as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was shocked to realize that she had completely forgotten about her new gadget. She opened her mouth and the pacifier fell out, but it didn't touch the floor, simply hanging from her shirt as it was attached with a string to the fabric. She didn't remember putting on that string, let alone attaching it to her shirt, yet there it was dangling at chest level. She was about to take it off, but the urge to go to the bathroom won, so she didn't pay any more attention to it. In the end, it remained there, dangling, while she called her friend Melissa, while she cooked dinner, and finally returned almost automatically as she went to bed still fantasizing about the horse staring at her. That night she dreamed too: she was a young Indian girl, and like all of them, she rode her white horse towards a green hill. At the top, a strange sensation overwhelmed her: she needed to pee and it was urgent. She got off her horse and ran to a tree, without thinking she pulled down her pants and an immediate feeling of relief overwhelmed her as she emptied her bladder. That morning she woke up alone still with that feeling, sighed around her pacifier as she stretched. Her bed was soft, warm, and wet. "WET!" she exclaimed, mispronouncing the word because of the pacifier, she moved the blankets and found a large stain spreading from her pants: she had wet the bed. She blushed, cried, spat out the pacifier, and almost screamed in astonishment. When she calmed down, she got up, put the sheets in the washing machine, and changed, turning tomato red when she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the wet stain that spread from her buttocks down all her pants. She was late so she decided to brush it off as simple stress or drinking too much water. It wasn't like that... 3 days later, 3 days of the same dream, 3 days of washing machines. On the fourth day, Anna had her first chance to experience a university Wednesday. She returned at 2 in the morning, drunk after a long night at the club with her new friends. She took off her clothes and threw them on the floor, they smelled of smoke and alcohol, she looked for her pacifier and popped it into her mouth with a loud click. She grabbed her pajamas but stopped stumbling, drawn to the rocking horse and the package placed at the base. Was it a package of panties? No, they seemed thicker and the decorations more childish. They were pull-ups designed for bedwetters or those learning to use the potty. She laughed, euphoric from the alcohol, thinking about the idea of putting them on... wait, she wet the bed... maybe she should wear them. She pulled one out, amazed by the cute decorations that strangely resembled her pacifier. She laughed again as she pulled down her panties and put on a pair. There was something about this action that made her feel naughty, as if she shouldn't do it, but in reality, she felt it could be a solution to her problem. She was speechless when she realized they fit her perfectly and were really comfortable and discreet. Stumbling, she headed to bed: pacifier in her mouth, new underwear forgetting to put on her pants. Part 3: Wake up The morning after was traumatic: her head throbbed, and nausea churned her stomach. She hadn't dreamt that night; she had simply fallen asleep staring at the rocking horse. She must have tossed and turned in bed several times, as she was no longer covered by the sheets. She lay on her back, pacifier in her mouth, legs open, displaying her soaked pull-up to the world. Eventually, after 20 minutes, she decided to get up and try eating something. She paid no attention to her new attire or the weight of the night's pee dragging it down. It was Thursday, which meant she had online classes in the afternoon. She laboriously wobbled to the kitchen and grabbed a packet of crackers. She attempted to eat one, but as soon as she brought it to her mouth, it encountered the pacifier and shattered on the t-shirt she was using as pajamas. Blushing, she spat it out; the pacifier wouldn't fall out, thanks to the ribbon, and finished the packet. After breakfast, she went to the bathroom to shower. It was only then that she realized she wasn't wearing her usual underwear; unlike last night, they had turned a faint yellow, increased in size, and felt damp to the touch. Memory flooded back, and she remembered what had happened the previous evening. She felt conflicting emotions: on one hand, relieved not to have dirtied the sheets yet again, on the other embarrassed for not realizing sooner and sleeping without pants. Another sharp headache distracted her; she threw the used diaper in the trash and stepped into the shower. After a long shower, she dried off and, still naked, went to her room to get dressed. She picked a pink t-shirt, put it on, and without thinking, attached the pacifier to it. Then she went towards the dresser to get her underwear but paused at the sight of the overturned pull-up package under the rocking horse. She picked one up: sober now, she could finally see the decorations clearly. They were light pink with bunny designs around the pubic and buttocks area. Delicate white hues adorned the sides and waist. The bunnies were painted in vibrant colors with realistic details, almost popping out of the fabric. Some bunnies ran happily while others engaged in cute activities like jumping or smelling flowers. The texture was soft to the touch. "Well, I can't deny they're cute," exclaimed Anna, smiling as she admired the bunnies adorning the pull-up and didn't notice the odd resemblance to her pacifier. It was too tempting; she spread one open and slid her legs into it effortlessly. They were very comfortable to wear, discreet, and, above all, gave her a childish touch that deep down Anna adored. In the end, she decided to wear them to prevent any post-drinking naps.

Dawww (when a new mom gets hired as a ceo she finds it harder than she ever thought to be away from her baby especially when she’s confronted by a pompous brat)

Rei was a small 10 year old girl sighed as she entered her room and opened her drawer to grab her pjs to get ready for bed “Huh what are these I’ve never seen these before

Childish Destiny On her twentieth birthday, a deer is evaluated on whether it would be best if she was regressed back to babyhood. (5,554 words.) Ask any of her friends, and they would tell you that Holly Weathers was the most mature deer they had ever met and certainly not suited to be a baby at all. At least, that’s what Holly believed they’d say. For her evaluation, Holly dressed as adult as possible. She wore a skinny amber skirt and a blouse with ample cleavage. For once, she remembered to apply perfume, a beach aroma that complemented her sandy antlers. She had adorned her hooves in heels, a clothing article she absolutely detested, but a fur proves their adulthood not by being themselves but by wearing the most elegant disguise possible. Holly had come prepared. Nine minutes left. Nine minutes until Holly’s entire life trajectory would be decided by crazy doctors. Nine minutes until society would determine if she was worthy of living an adult life. How could this be fair? The deer shuffled her legs in the waiting room. She checked her watch above her left hoof; only eight minutes now. Since trotting through that front door, her stomach was twisting. But really, her anxiety had anticipated this day ever since six months ago when she realized she was about to turn twenty and have her evaluation. A few other animals waited besides her. One, a spotted Maine Coon, had already given up in being placed as an adult. He had a balloon patterned diaper and a pacifier happily in his muzzle. He purred softly though his suckles. Perhaps this cat actually wanted to be a baby? Holly was skeptical, but she knew these furs existed. At least until the cat’s placement, she refused to refer to him as a kitten. Even if he had given up hope in his adulthood, Holly had faith in him. She was not the kind of fur to surrender to babyhood. She was a proud deer about to complete her second year of college, and she did not need her life ruined with eternal fawnhood. She knew from internet research and stories among friends that these placements were obviously random and had nothing to do with your actual maturity, but superstition still said to provide the most adult impression possible. Her friends… The odds were not in Holly’s favor. She was autistic and fat and a girl. Chubby animals look like babies to these quacks, one fur she read theorized. Girls are cute. And autistic furs, well, how could they be expected to take care of themselves? Holly would laugh if she wasn’t nervous. She was a grown-up, bleat! Sure, she couldn’t tie her shoes until she was twelve years old—which she rarely wore anyways since walking on bare hooves was far superior—and sure, she still ate salads almost every night for dinner and would cry if she was out of chickpeas, but these were normal things! Even if they weren’t, they had nothing to do with whether she would be happier as a baby. And there’s nothing babyish about eating seconds. Two months ago, her best friend Miranda had her placement. It did not go as Holly hoped. Holly theoretically wanted to stay in touch, but for her heart, it was hard to see that biology major she once knew babbling about how much she loved her stuffy. Where was that smart wolf? How could anyone think this regression stuff was okay? Holly sighed. She was relatively alone in this opinion. Miranda herself said beforepaw that she wanted whatever the doctors deemed best for her happiness. Many of Holly's other friends admitted that they were kind of childish, and it might be nice to be good babies like society said they should be. Others were confident they'd be placed as mommies, and they were excited for their future little to raise. They had all had brainwashed! There was nothing natural about this, and animals did not need to become children for anyone. Holly was very firm in this position, and no placement decision would ever sway her mind. The deer had been tempted to run away. She could ditch town, flee to the woods, and live off of wild grasses and berries. But the girl needed her degree. She wanted to be a Latin professor. What life would there be hiding from every fur she knew? If she returned to society, she would immediately be forced into a placement appointment. So Holly might as well get this decision out of the way that would determine the rest of her life. A door opened. “Holly?" the nurse asked. “Bleat!” Holly said. No, don’t vocalize now! It’s too cute and damaging for her adult placement! The deer stood up from her seat. She could see the whole waiting room below her now,. and she hated how childish it was. A table with trains and tracks stood in the middle, and that diapered cat had been pawing one back and forth. The coat hanger at the office entrance was green with "flower" bulbs to place coats. The office was begging to place every animal who arrived as a baby. But Holly knew that wasn't true. Some animals were determined fit to be adults. She would be one of them. Holly sauntered over to the nurse as maturely as possible, yet the mouse receptionist gave a big grin. Bad sign, bad sign. They may already see Holly as little. Fuck, she was masking her autism so well! Her walk was normally a giveaway, a big stumble between gallops, so she really tried today to control her pace. Still, many patients in the waiting room kept waving at her like a cute little thing. Shuddering inside, Holly reached the nurse at the open door, and the two walked down the hallway. "Excited for your big day?" the nurse giggled. She was an orange falcon of a rather tall stature. "Totally," Holly said. Don't admit you want a particular outcome. That makes you mature in their eyes. As they walked by examination rooms and corkboards littered with painted paw prints and other crafts, Holly locked eyes with Jessy Delmer, a curvy cow she knew from back in high school. Ugh, why did she have to be here? Not only was Jessy ridiculously pro this system rather than indifferent, she was classified as a mom a few weeks ago and would be soon assigned a "little." The cow had already been breast-pumping to feed her future “young’s” mouth. It wasn't fair that her placement as an adult would only confirm the validity of the system in her head. "Hiii Holly! Omg, today is your big day! Best of luck!" she said with her usual glee. "Thanks Jessie," Holly said was as much sarcasm she thought necessary to break her hatred through to this girl. Nope, it still didn't work. Jessie was grinning as she trotted away towards the restroom. Of course. "Come on in," the nurse sang. They were in front of examination room five, which looked like a cross of a therapy office and a daycare. There was a red couch on the left and a comfy green rocking chair on the right. But the rug was one of those rainbow rugs from kindergarten, and was that a bin of stuffed animals next to the bookshelf? At the back was a big paneled window streaming with light from a glimmering lake with a highway by its shore. “We’ve looked at your background before you came in,” the falcon said as she turned on a noise machine by the entrance. “But we would like to run a few tests before we let you know your results. Would that be okay, deer?” God no, the puns. Holly took a breath. Just keep your cool and forced enthusiasm. “Okay!” “Excellent.” The falcon lowered herself into the rocking chair. “We will start with an interview. Please, take a seat.” Holly reluctantly walked in and sat down on the couch. She was tempted to lie down, but she decided to sit up straight. “I should introduce myself,” the bird said. “I am Juniper, and while I am called a nurse here, I am a social worker specializing in working with children. How about you? Would you like to tell me a little about yourself?” Holly fidgeted with her hooves. She was not a child. Just ignore her supposed specialty. “Uh, my name is Holly Weathers. I’m a deer.” Duh, Holly. “I study ancient Romanimal civilization in college. I really love how in Latin, the words can go in any order as long as the endings decline correctly. It’s so cool!” Holly felt rather clever with this sophisticated answer. As long as she could keep away from babyish topics, she could prove her adulthood. The falcon responded, “Ha, I don’t remember my high school Spanish very well, but that is really interesting. Do you have any other hobbies you would like to share?” “Well, I like embroidery. I sometimes make cute characters for my friends, and I like to stitch Latin phrases. I also—” “I see. What are some of your favorite foods?” She didn’t like being interrupted, but she had an answer bursting for this question. “Pickles. I really like pickles! They’re such a good snack. I also love a great salad with some Caesar dressing—no fish, please—or with balsamic vinaigrette. It’s soooo good. I could eat salads for every meal!” Crap, had she answered too fast? The interview continued for quite a well. Holly knew she was acing it. Her responses were mature and nuanced. The conversation was flowing, and she did her best to keep eye contact. She would receive an adult verdict in no time. “I think that’s enough chatting. Next, I will pull out some cards, and you will tell me what you see. Understand?” Holly knew of this test from internet discourse. It was the easiest one. As long as you said what you saw—and it was quite obvious what was in the pictures—you’d be golden. “Yes, I’m ready.” Juniper reached her wings into a bag and pulled flash cards held by a clip. She flipped to the first one. “Can you tell me what this is?” It was obvious. “A tree,” Holly said. Try to sound as neutral as possible, even bored. Unlike the interview, this was supposed to be banal for adults. Just zone out. “And this?” “A car.” “And this?” “A skateboard. “And this?” “A snack. Wait, an apple.” Frick, how could she have slipped like that? Don’t zone out too far. It wasn’t a huge deal, of course. Adults like apples. But she mentally slapped herself. “How about this?” “A cloud.” “And this?” “A squirrel.” “And this one?” “A dog.” “And how about this?” “A stuffy.” NO. She did not just abbreviate that. You only say stuffy at home, Holly! Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Very good! I think that’s enough cards.” She dropped them back in the bag. Holly did not feel she was very good. Juniper continued. “And speaking of stuffies, our next test will be all about them!” Crap, stuffed animals were an autistic deer’s weakness. Juniper stood up and walked towards that bin. She pulled out a huge stuffed kangaroo. “I think it is best if I do not describe this test. Please hold this plush for now. She kneeled down by the couch and gave Holly the kangaroo. Bending to your eye level was a bad sign. That got Holly nervous. And this stuffed animal was an obvious trap. But it was also rather soft. Would it really hurt to pet the girl a little bit? Adults do that, right? Holly thought. She knew her plush obsession was overtaking her thinking, but she took her hoof off her lap and rubbed it on the kangaroo’s back. Wow, that texture was good. Really good. She did it again. Then again, closing her eyes now. After all the stress of this morning, couldn’t she use this quiet moment to enjoy this little plush? She pet the kangaroo some more. She rubbed her muzzle all around that plushie, a few drops of saliva leaking out and dampening the ‘roo’s fur Gosh, this was so nice! She wrapped her hooves around her new friend and gave him big hug. She was alright and safe. “Could I have Kangy back, my friend?” “No!” Holly shouted, hugging her kangaroo tight, before shaking those words out of her head. “I mean: O-of course!” She held her hooves up to give the plushie to the standing bird. However, Holly was gripping rather tight. She didn’t want to give up her plushie. She loved Kangy! But she needed to pass this test, and she already slipped up. The friction pulled and tugged, and her grip gave. “Very good job. I’m so sorry to take her away. You can have Kangy back later, if you’d like,” the bird sang as she dropped Kangy back in the bin. Then the bird traveled back to her seat. It was a little past noon now, and the sun’s heat from the window was scorching. Holly’s front legs craved for the sensation of Kangy’s fur, but she needed to ignore that tingling for now for whatever tests were left. The falcon proceeded to reach into her blue bag again and pulled out what appeared to be a picture book. “For our last test, I will read this story to you, and ask you a few questions about what’s going on.” Oh, this should be an easy. Holly was absolutely above picture books and found no enjoyment from them whatsoever. She could show this bird that fact. Juniper put on some reading glasses, and she opened the book wide extended outwards, as if reading to a group of young campers. Holly was her reluctant audience of one. “Here we go. Ahem.” She flipped to the title page. “The Puppy’s Lost Treasure. “Once upon a time, a puppy loved his favorite sock. He loved chomping on this sock because it was the softest sock around.” There was a picture of a feral dog with a sock in his chompers. “‘Grrr’, he would say. Can you grrr for me like the puppy?” “Grr!” Holly said with a big goofy grin before jamming a hoof in her mouth. What the fudge? How could she react that way? This was the most basic of stories and she was getting so excited! No no, keep your focus, Holly. They won’t get that autistic deer out of you again. You are mature and always have been. You are nothing else but an adult, and you do not play. With a light smile forming in her beak, Juniper flipped the page. “But one day, the sock went missing. The puppy searched high and low for his wonderful sock. He wiggled under the bed and sniffed around. Was it there?” “No!” Holly said. Darn it Holly, stop! She had read the next speech bubble. “You are right. The sock wasn’t there!” The singsong in her voice was so irristable. “Then the puppy went outside and dug in his favorite digging spot. Was the sock there?” “No! Bleat!” Holly said. This place must be magic. How else could she slip up like that? She hadn’t acted this small since she was in preschool! There must be something up around here. This can’t be the real her underneath the fur. Her eyes felt watery, yet she couldn’t help but keep up a toothy smile. Drool started leaking out of her muzzle and onto the floor. “Very good! You’re passing this test with flying colors,” Juniper said. Holly did not want to pass this test. She couldn’t be passing this test. “When the puppy’s mommy came home from work, the puppy asked where his precious sock was. ‘Check your laundry bin,’ the mother said. The puppy sprinted up the stairs, around the corner, into his room, and dove his head far into the bin. And what do you think was there?” Juniper ended with the most stereotypical upwards tone. “THE SOCK!!! Bahhh~” Holly said. A drool puddle drenched the couch cushions beneath. She couldn’t hold it anymore. It felt so good to bah, to let go. She was an adult, not a fawn, but she couldn’t control her body anymore. This is who she was at this moment. She just had to hope the evaluation team could understand that she was an adult, and this was a rare fluke. This had to not be her. After Juniper wrapped up the story, she packed her bag and stood up. "The doctor will enter in a few short minutes, hun. You will have to wait here alone. Can you do that for me?" Oh no. That’s a bad sign, the asking of an obvious question. This could still be a bonus test, however. Just play it cool, pass this marshmallow test, and you’d be golden. The evaluation can’t have gone that badly, could it have? "Of course." *** She hated to admit it, as those baby freaks would jump on these emotions immediately, but those next couple of minutes gnawed at her skull. Please, please put Holly out of this misery and give her a good verdict. Please say she was an adult after all. Holly started to doubt her own adulthood with her earlier performance, but she denied all of these maniacs’ philosophy. Nothing here about being a “baby at heart” was true. The door opened. A fox in a white coat walked into the room with a rolling table and a laptop perched on top. Holly took in a deep breath. She would walk away like all of this had never happened, she knew. "Hello, Holly. How are you doing?" he said. "Fantastic." Holly realized how terse this statement was and correct it with the most genuine follow-up she could muster. "Truly." "We imagine you are eager to hear your results. So I'll get straight to the point. Based on our heuristics---" "Yes?" Holly said. "And after plenty of discussion---" "Go on." "We have decided you are the most babyish animal we have ever seen." The first “No” was a little peep, a breath of shock. Then Holly’s mask shattered. She screamed, "Noooo!! Please sir, there must be a mistake. I'm very mature, I swear!" "No mistakes were made, little one." Already that little phrase was out. Fudge. The chance of respect towards her was shriveling away. "We were very confident before you came in, but the evaluations done by Miss Juniper only confirmed it. You are one of the cutest, childlike, most autistic animals we have ever seen so perfect to be a baby. You already were one; you just didn't realize it!" Her argument was ready. "How can I be a baby if I'm talking to you?" "Oh cute girl, you know that being a baby has nothing to do if you can talk!” Juniper said. “It's what's in your heart. But of course, it feels much better for babies like you to not talk and instead wear diapers, babble, and poop and pee themselves. We're sure you'll come to understand that, too." She didn't know why she was trying to logic with these animals. It wasn't going to work; their insanity was beyond comprehension. Of course, she did know why she kept talking. She needed this all to change. Her emotions were all over the floor. Fudge, she was sobbing. Another mark towards babyhood. Her forever babyhood. "Frankly,” the doctor said, “the team was surprised you even lasted this long pretending to be a grown-up. You’re just so fat and little! You should never ever have been allowed to be an adult. We're so sorry that you've been through all this pain." "I haven't been through pain until now!" Holly said, though she wasn’t as sure as she was an hour ago. "I was a fine woman actually making a life in this stupid world." How could a whole team make such a wrong decision? Group think? Mob mentality? She didn’t act that babyish before, did she? The tests revealed nothing. "But it's okay now," the doctor said, a paw on Holly's back. "You're going to get to be a baby. You'll feel so much more comfortable. It's so right for you. He wasn't listening. He wasn’t listening. Her words were gibberish to him. Already, she was a baby in his eyes… Yet for some reason, this all felt good, maybe great. She was a fawn, scientifically verified. What if she could trust it, just accept that she was meant for pampers and building blocks? No more masking, no more hiding. She could be a good deer. She might be meant to be a baby for the rest of her life. She giggled wildly for a moment. She was a baby. She would never get to be an adult again. "We have your assigned mommy already here today," Juniper said. "And it sounds like the two of you already know each other! It's so sweet and perfect!" She put her wings together in a clap, a blush on her face. Wait, no. There's only one cow that could be referring to. Holly was snapped out of that stupid glee. "Heya, little cakes." Jessy said as she walked in with a pink stroller. "I get to be your mommy from now on! I get to put you in so many diapers and outfits, and you get to be oh so cute!! You'll never have to worry again! Isn't that great?" "No, No, NO!!!" Holly shouted. Anyone but that smug cow. Anyone else as her “mom.” Holly threw a nearby pamphlet across the room and whined. Just like a real baby...No, don't fall into their language. They would not convince her just yet. She almost fell earlier. "Jeez, someone's a bit hissy," the cow said with an exaggerated eye roll as if to help kids understand the humor. "Doc, do you think she'll feel better soon?" "Definitely. This realization that they've been a baby their whole life can be a shock for some little ones. They just didn't expect it. But don't worry! It'll feel natural and right for them soon enough." "But I haven't been a baby my whole life!" Holly stood up to try to level herself with these crazy heads before losing balance and falling right back into the couch. From her seat, she gestured to her whole body. "I'm an adult, look!" She felt awkward doing this, but she held up her breasts, a puberty characteristic to prove some sort of point. "Oh, the body argument," Jessy said. "A classic. Boobs just make a baby cuter, Little Bells.” Jessy reached to pinch Holly's cheeks with her cloven hooves. "Who's a good little baby who thinks she's a grown up? You are! You are!" "Shut up!" Holly swatted the air with her hooves towards Jessy. Another babyish act in the eyes of her new captors. She might really just be a good little fawn. "Doc, where's a binky?" Jessy asked. "Already way ahead of you. Put this in her muzzle to help sooth her. Babies calm right up once you give them a nice pacifier." Any rebuttals she had were disregarded as the most enormous binky Holly had ever seen was shoved right in her muzzle. Instantly, like a long return home, she began suckling. Mhm, this was rather nice. A calm washed across her fur, and for the first time in hours she felt her stomach relax. If she ever did get out of this, maybe she could try pacifiers at home. Wait, no! You're falling for their traps, again! Holly thought. Stop! Yet why not just fall for the traps? Why not let that fake adult façade break, Holly asked herself. Why not be the best baby there ever was, the real you? Why try so hard to pretend to be a grown up every day when the real autistic you is a good little girl? Holly didn’t know how to answer these questions. She thought she had to fight, at least a little longer. She thought she shouldn’t lose her strong, academic self. But why did she think these things? Holly was confused. “And I’ve got someone else you will like!” Juniper said, holding Kangy. She must have gotten it when Holly wasn’t looking. “Kangy,” Holly mumbled through her pacy. She loved Kangy so much. Kangy would be here through this babyish world. Kangy would be her best friend. She rubbed her head into Kangy’s stomach again. Drool leaked through her pacifier. "I think she's ready for the babying procedures,” the doctor said. “Ms. Fern, could you take our fawn to the conversion facilities?" "Of course," Juniper said. "C'mon, Jessy. Let's watch your baby be prepared." Holly paused from her snuggling to think about what was said. She had heard about these machines in theory, but she shuddered to think what they actually do. All she knew was a few weeks after each placement she would visit a previous friend, and they'd be mooing and meowing and drooling and packing their pamps. Something was going to happen, either to her mind or to her body. Half of her was distinctly terrified. The other half was still in awe with this soft bulb in her jaw and Kangy in her arms. She was a good baby. She was ready to poop some diapers. It’s what she should have been doing all these years. This was the moment she lost her disguise. Two women approached her, Juniper and Jessy, and they ripped every clothing item the deer had. They violated her. Gone was the amber skirt. Gone was the sexy blouse. There wouldn’t be sex for her anymore. She was a fawn. She would always be naked or In frilly skirts and booties. And this felt a little good, good to just be with her fatter, babier self that had been stifled under all that cloth mess. Fawns didn’t wear clothes. Fawns suckles their hooves and wet themselves. A giggle murmured in her. Jessy picked the entire deer up and placed her in the pink baby carriage. That woman was strong. But there was a grace to her carry. Could she really be that bad? Jessy then layered Holly in blankets and pillows until only her head poked out. It was a lot, but it was snuggly heaven. Holly could feel the wheels begin to turn. Jessy pushed as Juniper led her towards a room down the far end of the hall. This was where those machines would be. Yet Holly could barely see beyond the fluffy white ceiling of her stroller. She heard the “aww”s from nurses walking by, but it was hard to care anymore. It helped too that she couldn’t see these animals. “Load her onto the conveyor belt,” she heard Juniper say from under the muffle of the blankets. The cow continued to prove her motherly strength as she lifted the naked fat deer up onto the machine. Juniper strapped her belly down so she couldn’t bolt. There goes that option, not that Holly was considering running much at this point. The metal was cold. Finally out of the carriage though still stuck on her back, Holly could get a better look around. Above were great ceiling fans in the most industrial room of this building. Farther down, the conveyor belt, she could just glimpse in her vision other animals drift through metal boxes and exit diapered. There must be more to these machines, however. Something had to cause the mental changes she saw in her friends. “You excited?” someone asked. She stretched her head as much as she could in the opposite direction. It was the dog from earlier. His diaper had been removed, likely so he was ready to receive a new one. “Nah weally!” Holly croaked through her binky. “Buh maybe?” The war still raged in her head. This could be what would make her happy. She had those urges earlier. To giggle at a cute story, to speak in baby talk. All of that would be accepted now, encouraged. She might just need to be a baby. She didn’t have time to think more as the conveyor belt drifted her towards the first metal box. Brace yourself. You might not be the same person coming out. Her fur felt colder as she entered the box’s darkness. Something from above reached down and touched her head. Was this it? Was her mind a goner? The light returned. She was out of the box. What had changed? She felt herself all over. She reached her head. A pink, lacy bonnet wrapped around her ears…Was that all? Where was the mental changes? Was this a mind-controlling bonet? She didn’t think so, for it was loosely attached to her head. How could mind-control like that really exist, anyhow. There were no mental changes. It hit Holly then. All her friends who came out as happy babs hugging themselves; they wanted that. They realized that was them, for they were babies always. These machines didn’t mess with your head. They only dressed you. Her friends loved to mess and wet themselves all day while playing with toys because who wouldn’t? Being a baby was amazing! She felt booties join her paws, and in these seconds Holly had official lost the war and happy to do so. The doctors were right. It had been obvious for months, and she was scared of change so she dreaded this day. Yet being an accepting environment can be powerful. And Holly realized for sure that she was definitely a dumb, little, stinky baby. “Bah~,” she said, and she drooled some more. At last, the best station arrived. The arms reached down in the dark, tugged at her sides, and she drifted out. She was diapered. She was a baby again. And immediately, she pushed, and shit got all around her mushy bottom. “I did it! I did it, mommy!” Holly said. She was reaching the end of the conveyor belts, and Jessy’s arms were there to catch her. “I messed myself! I’m just a baby!” “I knew you would understand, little deer!” her mother said as she caught the girl. Holly loved Jessy. She had been angry at Mommy because Mommy had been treating her like a fawn back in high school, but Jessy just knew something Holly hadn’t realized yet. Everyone around her had seen through that pathetic mask. She was autistic and female, and she should just be a good baby. She nuzzled up into her mother’s breasts. “I love you mommy so, so much! Please take me home and diaper me and never treat me like an adult again!” “Of course I will. You can see your friends again, too! I bet they’d be happy to know you’re a baby like them.” Her friends! They had been so smart to accept themselves as baby idiots. Would they forgive Holly for not playing with them for so long? Of course they would. Babies stick together, and they love playing games and pooping themselves. She was so happy! “And you can still sometimes read your silly Latin if you want to sometimes, though you might be forgetting how to read soon.” She would definitely forget how to read. She would forget how to add, write, and so many other things. She was a baby! Babies didn’t know how to do these things, and that’s wonderful. She was loved and accepted. She could be her dumb, stupid, pamper-packing self for the rest of time. And that made her so blissfully happy. The drool from under Binky was immense. “You two are going to be such a happy family,” Juniper said. She was turning to leave back towards the office. “You two can exit out the back entrance; you did all the paperwork when you arrived, Jessy. Have a wonderful trip home!” “Thank you, Ms. Fern,” Jessy said. She then looked down at her girl. “Can you say Bye Bye to the woman who helped you realize what a big baby you are?” Holly loved Juniper. Without her, Holly wouldn’t realize how stupid, little, and wonderful she was! “Bye Bye, Juny!” Juniper smiled and walked away. Meanwhile, Jessy took off her shirt unhooked her bra. “I think it’s time for my little one to get a nice meal. You must be exhausted after such a big morning where you had to think so much!” Holly saw the cow’s teats. They were so, so big. So delicious. Her babyish instincts kicked in, and she suckled into overdrive. So squishy and soft. Suckly felt sooooo good. And she was going to do this all day every day for the rest of her life? Yay!! “Aww, such a good drinker! You can keep suckling as we walk to our car.” Of course, it would only be Jessy walking, with the fawn in her arms. Holly blushed as she felt the tap leaking in her diapie. It was sopping and turning yellow. But did it matter? She was a good baby, and babies did that kind of thing. She giggled and cozied up even deeper into her mother’s arms. She was a baby, and she would be one for the rest of her life. And that sounded like everything her little, fat, autistic heart could ever dream.

WARNING!!! This story has some incredibly dark content and themes. So much so I felt that the responsible thing was to warn you ahead of time, decide for yourself if this Abdl work of fiction is for you. If you have similar past trauma this book might not be for you. You have been warned. I hate to spoil this for you, but I want to share with you the gist of the plot so you can decide if you want to read it or not. The story starts off with the main character running for their life. They just escaped, and the situation is godawful. In short, he escaped a sex trafficking victim, I would go so far as to say he just survived being a sex slave by some horrible people. The amount of damage done is so extensive that it’s going to take years to recover from the physical abuse alone, much longer for other things. The character escapes and by a chance of fate, he meets a woman who saves him. The book will center on recovering from the trauma, regression will happen quickly enough, and he chooses to live a much simpler and smaller life while his soul heals from the abuse. I don’t want to give everything away, but it’s bad, worse, and then downright wrong and evil. But it will have a happy ending. Other than healing from his injuries, there is a plot that will build up later. When Bigs go to war with a human trafficking ring that is constantly on the hunt for littles, things might get interesting and intense. This world is the same one I have already written( not yet published anywhere), it’s just an alternative reality and darker story for the main character. I’ll try to add the relevant information into the story naturally so everyone who reads this won’t be lost. This is not the DD, it’s an alternative earth. It’s the earth we all know, just one minor difference that happened in the past about 100 years ago. It’s the gene, the thing that makes littles or Bigs. The history of this earth will be remarkably like the one you know. But the Gene does not come into this story as much as my other one so it should be ok if you are new to my world. There will be NO outright descriptions of the sexual abuse, but the MC is traumatized from it, there will be things related to it though. Mostly the mc trying to recover from what had happened. All character are over the age of 18 Come back to this and do this warning right and tagged for the things that matter. But nothing in this posting is descriptive as it’s just the first chapter. Intro Forget fear!!! This is Terror, traumatized little kid kind of fear that claws at your chest and squeezes your heart until it feels like it might explode. It's the kind of fear that makes you scream for your mommy and daddy after watching that horror movie that you are way too little for. You know how it goes. You try to be big and brave; you try to pretend that the monster hunting the kid on screen is no big deal because you know it’s not real…right? You try to be brave, and you insist that you were not that scared. But no one is fooled when they see you clutching your teddy bear and shaking under that blanket that dad said you were too old to carry around. Your heart is racing, and you struggle to catch your breath. You’re frozen in panic, and you are not fooling anyone kid. Maybe your parents or older siblings laughed as they checked your closet and under your bed for monsters that you keep on insisting you know are not real before tucking you in with a reassuring hug and kiss. But once they leave, the paranoia sets in. The nightlight provides little comfort as it casts eerie shadows around your room, making every corner of your room seem sinister. The gentle sway of tree branches outside your window becomes a haunting dance in the moonlight, projecting twisted arm-like shapes on your wall reaching for you. And every creak and groan of the house sounds like a monster creeping closer. Take my advice and let go of that big girl or big boy pride and call your mommy and daddy, just don’t go to sleep. Nothing good is going to follow because there are things that exist beyond terror, a higher dimension of fear that few will ever experience. Nightmare: Well, it was going to happen, you made a lot of poor choices tonight. The worst part? Nightmares are real in their own twisted way. At least until you wake up and have proof to the contrary. But those monsters almost had you, as you wake up in a cold sweat. But you’re safe now, you’re awake and it’s not real. Warm and moist air breathed down onto your face and neck, and time stops as your face to face with the nightmare that is not supposed to be real. It’s staring at you and even mommy and daddy can’t save you now. When monsters become reality, you pray for an angel to save you as there’s no waking up from the horrors that await. As you feel something hot and sharp piercing through your skin, you realize that sometimes, monsters do come for us in our sleep and there's nothing we can do but scream because it's too late. ************************************************************************ I Got You SanguineReader Chapter 1: Terror or Get to the Light “Move!” “Dam it, Move!” Keep moving, at least make the bastards work for it… “Forget fear, Let the pain Motivate you, move it or you’re going to die, move!” The night clung to the city like a shroud, smothering every alley and street corner with its impenetrable blackness. My breath came in ragged gasps, a desperate rhythm syncing with the pounding of my heart as I fled, turning into another alleyway of the city. Each footfall was a muffled thud against the cold and wet concrete, the only sound on these streets as I quietly skulked on. I darted past shadowy buildings, their looming forms indifferent witnesses to my plight. The darkness seemed to reach for me with long, cold fingers, urging me back to the horrors I'd just escaped. But the monster, that relentless pursuer, propelled me forward. Adrenaline surged through my veins, a bitter cocktail of terror and resolve that kept my legs moving when they begged to collapse. The city was unfamiliar, a twisted maze of back streets that felt alive. Every turn was a gamble, each choice a potential trap. My eyes flickered from one darkened alley to the next, searching for a sign, any indication of a safe path. But the city offered no refuge—only more shadows, only more of the unknown. My body was a map of pain, bruises painting my skin in shades of purple, blues, and blacks—a canvas of abuse that stretched across my flesh. The pain was layered, on both the surface and deep within. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony coursing through me, a cruel reminder of what I had endured. Yet it was that very pain that fueled my determination, a grim assurance that I was still alive, still capable of fighting for my life and freedom. As I stumbled onward, the chilling embrace of the night air seared my lungs, but I welcomed the burn. It kept me anchored to the present, to the reality of my situation, away from the memories that clawed at the edges of my mind, threatening to drag me back into the abyss of despair. “Don’t think just move” thinking to myself again. How long has it been since I decided to run? A rare opening presented itself earlier and I got away. Had it been an hour or less? Keeping track of time was beyond me. Yes, maybe it had been that long. But I had managed to escape, I got away from my captors and I was safe. “Yeah right,” I was anything but safe. Still, they were not hurting me, degrading me. I… I no longer had to act or fake it, if I could just get away, far away and past their clutches. Crap, I started thinking. Then the reality of my situation hit me, I had nowhere to go, no plan, no one I could trust, no one I could call for help. Tears came then, washed away by the cold rain and I felt warm despite the weather from what I hoped was not the start of a fever. My mind grew numb at the thought of my prospects and my thinking had grown erratic and uncoordinated. I noticed a dumpster ahead with its plastic lid bent backwards and open. The lid made a sharp angle with the ground, maybe a good place to hide and rest I thought. Thinking was slow and I wanted to stop. With difficulty my mind urged me to keep going, but I was so tired and in so much pain and the thought of a brief respite tempted me. I limped and staggered my way to the back of the dumpster walking teetering on the heels of my bare feet. I managed to leverage a long green plastic sheet and several broken wooden pallets to the side gap of the lid of the dumpster. It was still dark, and I had yet to be found and I hoped that the garbage would obscure me from any pursuers. “Maybe it was a good place to hide” I hoped ignoring the urgency my mind sent down in waves through the circuits and nerves of my body giving in to the temptation to rest. Taking shelter from the rain under the lid of the dumpster, I winced as I carefully slid down the side of the cold metal. Collapsed was more like it as my leg had given out again. I hurt, everywhere. There was something wrong with my hip. I could feel my bones grinding against each other as I had run into the night. And the pain in my hands and feet had returned and grown sharper by the minute as the adrenaline had worn off. My chest hurt but at least I could still breathe, and I was alive. I reached tenderly for my neck, giving it a gentle caress, trying to ignore what was there as I winced from the pain again. It was cold, so cold and wet. Running into the night naked on the back streets of God knows where. It was impossible but at least I was finally free for however long it’s going to last. Lost in my certainty that it was only a matter of time before they got me, my situation was grim, and I did not know what to do. The attempt to wrap my arms around myself, trying to bring my knees to my chest for some warmth ended in more pain. “Why try, why bother? This can only end one way.” Dropping my arms back down my useless hands felt something soft and to my surprise, dry. I turned my head and looked and found some cloth like thing. It was too dark to fully make it out, but I reached for it anyway. Forcing my hand to grab, my hand strength was near nonexistent as I forced myself to ignore the pain. Something dark scurried from the object and up my arm and disappeared into the darkness. The suddenness of the motion, the blur of the thing, and the feeling of tiny legs on my skin sent a shiver down my spine and a jolt of adrenaline into my heart. I was panting from the unexpected motion and nearly made it to my feet before my leg gave out again. Sitting again, I forced myself to be quiet, but I was in pain again. What else was new. “Deep breaths,” I tried to reassure myself. “It was probably a cockroach, and there are worse things than that out here.” I reached out for the cloth again and managed to drape it over my torso. And using what might as well be nubs, I used the palms of my hands to feel and explore the unknown thing. I felt a string somewhere in the dry mass, and a large pocket, I moved my hands deeper and felt long sleeves and in inner pocket. It was a hoodie. A small smile tugged at my lips, but it had been so long since I last smiled that I couldn't remember when it was. For several agonizing minutes I forced my arms into the sleeves, my fingers were useless as I tried to get the garment on. The sleeves fell well past the length of my arms. I dipped my head down into the bottom of the hoodie and wiggled my way up into it and the body of the hoody fell around me like a dress, but it covered me. Lastly, I used my wrists to squeeze the cloth and tried my best to bring the hood up and over my head. Panting from the effort, no choice but to do my best and ignore the pain. “Finally. Clothes,” I thought. And then I cried ignoring the smell of what I was wearing, overcome with emotion at the dumpster miracle I had found. Sitting against the horrible stench of the dumpster, one last good thing and I was thankful for the unexpected symbol of dignity. I was probably not going to make it, but at least I would be covered I thought bitterly thinking on the last several months of horror I somehow survived as tears tried to fall but wouldn’t. I was too tired for tears and too dehydrated. The thought struck me, “I am going to die tonight,” and I began to shiver, and then I began to sob. Something scurried down my leg and my sobs increased, and my thoughts became hysterical. I am going to die and be thrown away like garbage, alone in the dark. “I might as well be…I am trash,” I whispered to no on in particular. This is where it’s going to end. Falling victim to depression is one thing but falling victim to the truth is another. All my strength was gone, it’s been more than a week since I was last fed, and I have nowhere to go. “Fed,” I laughed. “Yeah, you had it so good” I mocked my own thoughts as I momentarily lost my sanity as I shivered in the cold when a mild wind blew. Alone in my despair, “no one is going to miss me when I go.” “Woosh.” I snapped my head to the left, adrenaline shooting again inside. “What was that?” Cowering in place, “did they find me?” I stared into the darkness and rain, looking but not seeing, for a long… “Woosh,” a sound and bright light moving in the darkness maybe less than a hundred feet away. My heart was beating loudly in my ears as the thing disturbed the falling cadence of the rain and the still of the alley. “Woosh,” another thing moved in the night. It took me a long minute to realize it was a car. “I must be near the street,” I thought as I pieced together what the sound and light was and Several minutes passed before my breathing evened out. “The street,” I thought. Cars, people, and help? But I could not move the fear gripped me, I could not think as I froze in terror. “What if they hurt me too?” Incredible and familiar pain seized my neck, and my body twitched and spasmed uncontrollably. A long and familiar 5 second blast of pure agonizing pain burned its way into my neck. My gums squeezing violently against my tongue. The smell of my flesh burning again as I fell over into a ball withering and screaming. The sound seemed so loud bouncing off the lid and metal of the dumpster, sound waves bouncing back and forth. “Found you kitten, I would know those sweet screams of yours anywhere.” His chuckling taunt echoed somewhere down the alleyway I had been walking down a few minutes ago. My hand reached for the sturdy pink collar locked around my neck. But I could not even grab the metal prongs that were always there. I had no means of turning the prongs away to keep him from shocking me again. I tried to force as much of the sleeve of the hoody as I could into place between my overly burnt and cracked skin and the sadistic metal of the shock box and prong. Hoping against hope that it was enough to keep the prongs from arcing, preventing another painful blast into my broken body. My heart was a galloping horse, a runaway train. Adrenaline pumped again into my weary body, sending signals to my brain to run. But I was seized by the fear of this man. My blood had turned to ice and time slowed as I shook and trembled violently as I laid there on the cold pavement. “This is it,” I thought, my last coherent thought as the terror overtook me sending signals of panic to every muscle in my body. I don’t have the vocabulary for this, what is beyond terror? And suddenly I knew I was about to die. The Pain temporarily vanished like the sweetest dream you have ever had. Maybe an evolutionary trait, that fight or flight reflex that forces you to somehow endure, the body unwilling to give in to fate. My heart would not stop pounding and I was still frozen in fear. “Woosh.” A small light shone where I was hiding. And I had not just been found out, I had been located. I breathed, my body coiled, my body moved on its own without any input from me. Abandoning my temporary save house falling on my face in the attempt, my desperation and panic driving me forward. This must be how a cockroach feels when you turn on the kitchen light in the middle of the night. You are surrounded in the protection of blissful darkness, and you can move around unseen. But then someone flips a switch, and all your little body knows is panic. Your every instinct scream at you to run and to hide. It does not help that whatever it is that disturbed the peacefulness of the darkness can step on you, smack you with something, or some other insane cruelty. Then smoosh. A roach wouldn’t even know. It would happen so fast. Roaches may be the most hated little critter that ever was, their mere existence a crime. It’s kind of unfair really. Roaches are quite defenseless, almost completely blind, and helpless. Kinda of like me. Not feeling it, but my leg gave out again but like that cockroach, fuck it ill crawl if I have to. I scurried on my forearms and knees, pushing as hard as I could behind me propelling myself forward. scrambling up and out somehow forcing myself to stand and my leg held this time, and I ran. Not the slow and careful manner I had been doing before, on my heels, But on my broken toes as fast as I could. “Woosh.” The sound and lights of the cars were just ahead. The answer, my choice, my last choice before he got me again. I did not waste time thinking, it was the best chance I had. To make it end suddenly and finally. “The light, the light, get to the light,” that mantra blasted into every part of my brain as I moved. Something crashed into me as I dove forward past the sidewalk, landing on the curb. My torso was in the gutter, but I had managed to get an arm up in time to brace and protect my face as I crashed into the street. To my regret I took a moment to catch my breath and looked behind me as a raised boot lifted high and it began to fall like a hammer over an anvil in the air. And then time stopped. The rain drops froze in place and all was quiet. They say your life flashes before your eyes at the end. And my life began to play. Memories came to me like a reel of film projected before my eyes in the air amongst the frozen rain drops. Twenty years of experience compressed into a single point and my life replayed itself in that frozen moment of time. The slide show was too short, I only had a few happy years on this earth. The oldest memories played but they were too vague, degraded by time. My early years passed by quickly as details became more vivid, the scope of the slide show grew as I watched my self-grow up, my understanding of the world keeping up with the pace of the growing details. The reel slowed to one of the last good memories I had. Before it all changed when I was six. The days that followed were the worst, and in some ways worse than the horrors that were chasing me. My mommy was there, my daddy too and even my little sister. “Kristen, Kids, I’m home.” He was so tall and so big I thought as I ran to him, “Daddy your home. I missed you.” “I missed you to little guy.” Where you a good boy while I was gone?” “Yep, I was very good.” “And where you a good big brother, where you nice to summer? “I was really nice, I’m not a bad guy daddy.” Chuckling “Good boy, always look after your little sister, your mom too,” he said as he raised me up to give me a hug and a kiss. My sister was there and my mom right behind her. He bent down with me still in his arms and picked summer up. “Daddy,” she squealed “your back.” Kissing her gently on her forehead, “Yep, I’m home and good news I can stay for a few weeks before I have to hit the road again.” Summer cheered as she dug deeper into our dads’ arms. “Missed you Ethan,” my mother said, as she came in completing the group hug, giving a peck to his cheek. I rotated in my dads’ embrace and gestured with my arms to my mother and dad passed me over to her as he readjusted his balance with summer on his hip. I had always looked up to my dad, he was larger than life and my hero and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. But mommy was my person, and she was special, we had always been close. “Was Josh really nice to summer while I was gone?” “Hey,” I said from my favorite perch, “I’m getting good at being a big brother.” My mom tossed my hair, gave me a kiss as she eased my head to her shoulder, and said, “Yeah, he did a great job, took that chat of yours to heart. Even stop one of the neighbors’ kids from teasing her and he’s been trying to teach her how to ride her bike.” “That’s my boy, you’re going to be a fine man someday, I’m so proud of you” My dad said as he reached out to pat my head as he walked to the kitchen for dinner, my mom carrying me in toe as I beamed at his praise. The memory was one of the happiest I had, from when they were all still alive. My dad coming home, being acknowledged by him. A big family hug in the entryway. It had been so long since we had all gathered at the table as a family. I could almost make out their faces as we sat around the table eating some delicious meal that mom had made. My sister being her silly and annoying self, she really did make it hard to be nice to her sometimes, but I loved her. Dad enthusiastically ate what he called real food, as he talked grown up stuff with mom. And mom thankful for the help dad provided when he was home, now there would be only one set of arms reaching for her, Summer was ever bit a daddy’s girl as I was a momma’s boy. I enjoyed watching the smiles, hearing the laughter. Need some work. The night ended early for my exhausted dad falling asleep on the couch with Summer in his arms. For me, in my parent’s bed in my mommy’s lap as she picked up where she had left off in our nightly reading. She helped me with the bigger words, encouraging me to sound them out, until I had grown sleepy, she took over and we would cuddle close till I began to nod off. A kiss to the head, a flicker of the lamp, then my mommy’s voice sang me the rest of the way to sleep. I had seen enough, and I hoped that if there was a god, I would see them soon. Not wanting to watch the rest I cut the reel of film somehow and the memories dimmed and vanished. “Woosh.” The raindrops began to fall again as the boot came crashing down on my outstretched leg. My leg the lever, the curb the fulcrum, and the impact my femur and something cracked and broke inside me. I was sure I had felt it all before, every kind of pain there is, but my understanding of pain reoriented itself around the soul piercing scream that came out of my mouth and the fire in my upper leg as I heaved in the gutter. His boot came up under my other leg and he flipped me over onto my back, while I continued to scream and spasm in the rain. And he looked at me, with those dead and drunk eyes. “Thought you could get away huh bitch?” He pulled something out of his pocket and pointed it at me. My world was an explosion of pain, but I knew what it was, the remote to the collar. Sizzling and crackling fired at the side of my neck, and I winced bracing for more pain, and to my shock nothing happened. I did not have long to think about the sleeve that I had forced into place with my broken fingers, despite the rain there must have been enough dry material in between the prongs and my skin. He looked confused and annoyed, then angry. And he moved to kick at me again, but lost his footing, either drunk or high, he slipped on the wet curb screaming with a curse. “Woosh.” Another car sped past behind me, it was so close, and I remembered my mission, “get to the light, and make it end.” Forcing myself to sit up, I could not turn away from him. My left leg dangled in front of me useless and I ignored the pain in my hands and pushing with my one good leg as I scooched tripoding my way to the finish line, salvation was just feet away. “Woosh.” He picked himself up off the street as I made my slow backward advance into the street. Scooching backward, I kept my eyes on him, hoping that I could make the last few feet before he got me. He righted himself and looked back down at me, and advanced. A shriek of tires, a blinding flare of headlights, reality twisting violently. I closed my eyes turning my head towards the light, hoping and afraid that they would never open again, like a cockroach, just let it end without me knowing. Screech Bang!!! The impact was sudden, metal against bone. The pavement rose up to meet me, and I sprawled across it, my mind severed from my body, like a puppet severed from its strings. . . . Despite the falling rain the world somehow seemed still as I laid there. The pain was gone at least but I could not move, and my only thoughts were wisps of consciousness and my last view of the world and sky were marred by my long and wet hair plastered to my face as the cold rain continued to fall slowly. My vision reduced, and the view was circling in as light seemed to radiate from everywhere. “So, it ends, it’s over. It’s finally over.” . . . Or so I thought as I laid there. . . . A face appeared, breaking through the veil of light and into the circle of my dying world. The face was beautiful, enchanting, and worried. Long brown hair touched my face. Fingers gently brushed away my wet hair from my view. Concerned and pleading eyes gazed down into mine that touched the dying sparks in my soul. So, Gods a woman. Go figure. I wanted to laugh but the muscles in my face could not move. God said something, her lips moved, and I could not hear it. But then she looked away and up, into the darkness that I had come from. I could not see much, the light was blinding, but I was looking at her chin as she rose like a giant above me. Sound returned as a figure darted into the edge of my periphery. So, he’s going to get me after all. Puddles exploded around me as feet fell and I waited for a boot to the face, but it never came. And helplessly I watched, figures and shadows dancing in and out of my circle of vision. Arms lashed out, shouting, and bestial cries followed as I lay helpless. A body was flung through the circle of my worldview and crashed behind me. . . She came back to me as my world of light began to fade to black. She hovered over me looking away into the night like a sentinel. I don’t know for how long but when red and blue began to collide into my dimming world she looked back down at me; her hair again caressing my face and I wanted to reach for those brown strands. “It’s ok, I’m here, your safe.” “I got you.” Chapter 2 The Angel King may want to keep the Angel king for the main story Notes1:I do want a recount of Maryes pov of the fight with Dylan. Maybe she is reliving it in her mind as she’s in the waiting room of the hospital. There are some important things for this. It alludes to Beth. But most importantly I want a moment for Dylan (1-2 paragraphs of his point of view only, this will be one of the few times)as he retreats back into the night after the fight with Mary. He was drunk or whatever and not at his best. Though it would have been a close fight. One thing that must happen. Dylan needs to get a photo of Mary license plate. Mary’s point of view has that short phone call with Robert, the sauce between the dialogue should help establish things when Robert and sunny return later. I don’t want to much of marys pov, I want to try to center this on josh, but there are a few places where it might be better to watch josh react to things instead of experiencing them from a writing standpoint.

So my OC finds a footie sleeper on her dresser that she’s never seen before and decides to try them on and she wakes up finds her panties replaced with a diaper and that her mother thinks she was never potty trained

Intro Evelyn, a middle-aged history professor at the local college, found solace in the routine of her early morning and late nights spent on the balcony of her cozy apartment. Perched on a comfortable chair, she would watch the world pass by, lost in her thoughts. The balcony offered a front-row seat to the daily comings and goings of college students, who unknowingly became characters in the silent play that unfolded before her. Despite her engaging lectures and dynamic teaching style, Evelyn often felt an overwhelming sense of solitude. Her unconventional schedule, with most classes held in the evening, left her with free mornings and afternoons. The balcony became her haven, a place where she could reflect on the pages of history and, more intimately, on the chapters of her own life. One particular ritual, hidden from the eyes of her colleagues and students, unfolded on those quiet afternoons. Evelyn would find herself drawn to the comfort of an old habit — sucking her thumb. It was a habit she often enjoyed, especially when watching young love unfold from her balcony; something she greatly regretted not having. As Evelyn sat on her balcony, thumb often creeping into her mouth, she observed the ebb and flow of college life beneath her. The students, backpacks slung over their shoulders, chatted animatedly as they walked past her apartment building. Some were engrossed in their smartphones, while others eagerly discussed the day's lectures and upcoming exams. Unbeknownst to Evelyn, the students were aware of her discreet balcony retreat. In many ways the balcony has become a living attraction to bypassing students over the years; no one went out of their way for it, but no one regregretted strolling past. [There was an unspoken agreement to respect the privacy of their history professor, a woman who held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the past but guarded her own secrets with equal diligence.] Evelyn, absorbed in her historical musings and thumb-sucking reverie, believed herself to be invisible to the world below. She found comfort in the anonymity of her perch, where she could be both a spectator and a participant in the theater of daily life. One day, as the students passed by her balcony as usual, something unexpected happened. A brave soul among them, a young woman named Sarah, decided to break the unspoken barrier. She smiled warmly at Evelyn and nodded in acknowledgment. As the days went by, Sarah made other distant gestures to Evelyn, such as small waves and momentarily inserting her own thumb into her mouth, as if playfully asking a child, "Do you need to suck your thumb?" Despite these subtle attempts at connection, Evelyn remained reserved. Evelyn continued her balcony rituals, she found a new sense of camaraderie with this unknown (to her) student. The unspoken understanding between them deepened, and the balcony became a symbol of connection, bridging the gap between professor and student in a way that transcended the formalities of the classroom. And so, history continued to unfold, both in the lectures within the college walls and in the quiet moments on Evelyn's balcony. Chapter I Lisa: Hey, Sarah! How was your day? Sarah: Oh, you know, the usual. But something interesting happened today. You know the professor who sits on the balcony and sucks her thumb? Lisa: Professor Evelyn? Yeah, I've seen her. She seems so lost and lonely up there; often sucking her thumb, thinking the world doesn't know her secret. Sarah: Well, I've been trying to break the ice, you know? Like playful waves and pretending to suck my thumb too. Just trying to make her smile. Lisa: That's sweet of you, babe. But why? What made you decide to do that? Sarah: I don't know, Lisa. There's something about her that just tugs at my heart. I see her up there all alone, and I can't help but feel like she needs a friend. Lisa: You think we should be her friends? She seems more ? Sarah: Yeah, that's what I was thinking. She's so cute and childlike. It got me thinking... What if we could be more than just her friends? Lisa: You mean, like, adopt her into our lives? Sarah: Exactly. I mean, she's alone up there, and I can't shake off this feeling that she needs something more stable. We could be that stability for her. Lisa: That's a big step, Sarah. But, you know, I've been feeling the same way. She's become a part of our thoughts and conversations. Sarah: I know it's huge, but I can't stand the thought of her being alone. I want to make her a part of our unconventional family. Lisa: Let's take it slow, then. Maybe we can start by getting to know her better. You said you're in her history class, right? Why don't you try talking to her? Sarah: Yeah, I am. I'll give it a shot, but we need to be careful. We don't want to overwhelm her. Lisa: Absolutely. We'll take it step by step. If she's comfortable with it, maybe she could join us for coffee or something. Sarah: Perfect. Let's see where this goes. I really think we could make a difference in her life. As Sarah and Lisa discuss the possibility of "adopting" Professor Evelyn into their lives, the balcony stands as a silent witness to their evolving plan. The dialogues reflect the mix of compassion, care, and the desire to bring a sense of family to someone who seems to need it. Chapter II Evelyn, engrossed in her historical research and the quiet moments of reflection on the balcony, remained blissfully unaware that Sarah was one of her own students. The campus was vast, and the lecture halls were filled with faces, making it easy for a single student to blend into the crowd. Sarah, who often chose a seat in the back of the class, had mastered the art of anonymity. One day, as Evelyn, who was often engrossed in her lecture notes, looked up at her Intro to World History students and noticed Sarah. A mix of emotions swept over Evelyn—surprise, curiosity, and a touch of embarrassment that she hadn't recognized her only balcony companion as a student. The realization added a new layer to their interactions. Evelyn pondered whether Sarah had intentionally chosen to sit in the back of the class, maintaining a discreet distance between the formal academic setting and their informal balcony connection. Despite the revelation, Evelyn decided to let the connection evolve organically, choosing not to confront Sarah about their shared secret. However, she began to notice Sarah playfully sucking her thumb during lectures, making sure that Professor Evelyn noticed her playfulness. The following evening, Evelyn approached the lecture hall with a newfound awareness. As she began her class, she noticed Sarah sitting in her usual spot at the back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The other students, oblivious to the connection between their professor and their classmate, immersed themselves in the lesson. After the lecture, as students filed out of the hall, Sarah lingered for a moment. With a subtle nod and a twinkle in her eye, she acknowledged the unspoken understanding between them. Evelyn reciprocated with a grateful smile, silently appreciating the delicate balance they had struck between the formalities of academia and the genuine connection that had formed on the balcony. As the semester progressed, Evelyn and Sarah continued their silent interactions, weaving a unique tapestry of connection that transcended the traditional roles of teacher and student. The balcony, once a place of solitude, had become a bridge between two lives—a place where history unfolded not only in the pages of textbooks but also in the quiet moments shared between a professor and a student. Chapter III Sarah's after-class visits became a cherished ritual, adding a new dimension to the connection she shared with Evelyn. While other students hurriedly packed their bags and left, Sarah lingered, patiently waiting for her turn to approach the professor. "Professor," she would begin, maintaining the formal address that characterized their interactions; though her quiet motherly voice made Evelyn feel as though the roles were switched. Her questions were a clever mix of academic curiosity and a genuine desire to know Evelyn on a more personal level. Sometimes, her questions dived into the intricacies of the day's lecture, showcasing Sarah's dedication to the subject matter. Other times, the questions subtly steered toward understanding the woman behind the professorial facade. Evelyn, in turn, welcomed these post-lecture conversations. Sarah's inquiries provided a bridge between the structured world of academia and the uncharted territory of personal connection. Evelyn found herself opening up, sharing anecdotes from her own academic journey, and offering insights that transcended the confines of the classroom. As the weeks unfolded, Sarah's questions became more personal, yet she maintained a respectful distance. She never overstepped boundaries or pressed too far into Evelyn's private life. The discussions, although occasionally veering into the realm of personal experiences, remained grounded in the shared love for history and the pursuit of knowledge. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast a warm glow on the balcony, Sarah hesitated before asking a question. "Professor, I was wondering," she began, "what inspired you to become a historian?" The question opened a door to Evelyn's past, and she shared stories of mentors who had shaped her journey, pivotal moments that ignited her passion, and the challenges she had overcome. Chapter IV One Sunday evening, Evelyn decided to treat herself, and go out to the local bar, for a night cap instead of her usual at home alone time. While seated at the bar, alone, she suddenly noticed Sarah seated next to her. After exchanging pleasantries, Sarah offered Evelyn to join her and her friends for a night on the town. Being substantially older, and wanting to go home Evelyn deeply hesitated; however, after some persistent nagging by Sarah, Evelyn obliged and join Sarah and her friends. The evening started with the promise of a casual and enjoyable time, but as the drinks flowed, Evelyn lost touch with the limits she had unknowingly set for herself. The laughter and shared stories became a blur, and the once-composed professor found herself caught in the grip of intoxication. As the night wore on, Evelyn's words began to slur, and her movements became unsteady. Unaware of the extent of her inebriation, she continued to share anecdotes and insights, but the clarity that usually defined her words was replaced by a haze of alcohol-induced fuzziness. Sarah, watching the gradual transformation in her professor's demeanor, became increasingly concerned. Like a frog in slowly boiling water, Evelyn seemed oblivious to the changes in her own behavior. The warmth of the evening, and the warmth in her pants, had given way to a more somber atmosphere as Sarah recognized the signs of excess. As the night approached its end, Sarah made a decision fueled by genuine concern for her teacher. Rather than leaving as originally planned, she offered, "Evelyn, I think it's best if I stay the night. Just to make sure you're okay by morning." Evelyn, caught in the haze of alcohol, managed a nod, as her thumb glided into her mouth, her usual composed demeanor now replaced by a vulnerable state. Sarah took charge, guiding Evelyn to her apartment with a supportive arm around her shoulders. Once inside, Sarah ensured Evelyn was comfortable and settled before quietly going about making the necessary arrangements for an unexpected overnight stay. Throughout the night, Sarah kept a watchful eye on Evelyn, periodically checking in to ensure she was safe and comfortable. The balcony, witness to so many shared moments, now stood silent as the night unfolded. In the quiet hours, Sarah reflected on the evolving dynamics of their relationship and the responsibility that came with genuine concern for another person. When the first few students passed by the balcony, Sarah decided it was best to leave before anyone noticed her up on the professor's balcony. Evelyn was still deep in her slumber not fully awake from the night before. Chapter V The following week, Evelyn, haunted by the memory of the pub incident, decided to take the initiative and invited Sarah to meet for coffee at a quiet and public place. The atmosphere was tense as they settled into a corner of the coffee shop, surrounded by the hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Sarah, I wanted to apologize for that night at the pub," she began, her voice carrying a mix of remorse and embarrassment. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on a drinking binge; let alone with a group of students…” Sarah, understanding the sincerity in Evelyn's apology, nodded in acknowledgment. "No need to apologize, Evelyn. We all have our moments. Let's just move past it," she reassured. However, as the conversation shifted, Sarah pulled out her phone,“stumbled upon images of the night before, as the two searched for an old message Evelyn had once sent Sarah… Evelyn's eyes widened in horror as Sarah showed her the images and later videos of night.. There, on the small screen, was a selfie of Evelyn, thumb in her mouth, seated on Sarah's lap at the pub . Another video revealed Evelyn giving an non-understandable speech, as a dark spot slowly grew around her groin. Evelyn's face turned several shades of red as embarrassment washed over her. "Sarah, I... I had no idea," she stammered, feeling a mix of humiliation and regret. Sarah, however, surprised Evelyn by laughing gently. "Don't worry, Evelyn. I promise not to use these pictures against you. When we had reached home, I had helped you take a shower and washed your clothes. As I walked home, before you had woken, or students walking towards their morning classes, I kept thinking how cute and vulnerable you were that night. It was as if something inside you finally opened up”. Caught off guard, Evelyn hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Sarah continued, "Actually, you look so adorable in these videos. Do you mind if I keep them? I promise, it's just for our private memories." Too embarrassed to even say anything, Evelyn stood up and left the coffee shop. Too shocked and shaken to even fully comprehend Sarah had said. Chapter VI Evelyn attempted to avoid Sarah at all costs, like a child she hid behind the curtains of her balcony in hopes that Sarah would not see her. She found a very nice teaching assistant to replace her for a few weeks in class, but eventually, Evelyn couldn't not go back to teaching. Sarah on the other hand, tried to reach out to Evelyn, trying to explain herself and make sure she’s ok. However, a few days before final exams, on the final day of classes, Evelyn had no choice but to resume her teaching. Throughout the lecture, Evelyn kept looking up at Sarah, who for her part pretended to be listening to the lecture, but in reality was planning her next step. When Evelyn finally finished her lecture, and asked whether anyone have questions regarding the final, Sarah raised her; Evelyn made the mistake of calling Sarah before calling anyone else. Sarah, standing up, asked - “Professor Evelyn, history is filled with secrets, can you show everyone your biggest secret?”, as if on queue, Evelyn began sucking her thumb. It was unclear to Evelyn what happened the next few minutes, but she somehow found herself, in the back of Sarahs’ car, wearing only a pull-up and her thumb in her mouth. Chapter VII Like a small child holding her mommy’s hand, Evelyn walked a pace behind Sarah towards the door. As the two reached Sarah’s apartment, the door suddenly opened by a woman, who was slightly older than Sarah, but clearly much younger than Evelyn. The woman introduced herself to Evelyn as though she was talking to a preschooler; offering Evelyn to sit on the floor and play with the plush toys laying around. Next thing Evelyn knew she was seated on the floor, staring up at the two young women, who could easily have been her own daughters, had she decided to get married and have a family. Sarah and her lover explained their plan. Evelyn was to be their baby, and both women would be called "mommy." The shock deepened as Evelyn, still constantly sucking her thumb, struggled to process the information. "I... I don't understand. Why? How?" Evelyn stammered, her voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Sarah's lover, whose name remained a mystery, spoke gently, "We've seen you sucking your thumb on the balcony every morning as we walked towards campus. I then saw your videos from the pub, and think the loss of control is simply because of too much control and maybe starting over is what you need. What you seem to want…” Chapter VIII In the quiet darkness of the nursery, Evelyn lay in her toddler bed, surrounded by the soft hues of pastel colors and the comforting presence of plush toys. As she drifted closer to sleep, her mind swirled with a cascade of thoughts and reflections. The weight of the revelation bore down on Evelyn's mind. Years as a professor, yet it took two students, Sarah and her lover, to unravel the depths of her secrets. The dichotomy between her public persona as an educator and the vulnerability she now embraced in the nursery left her contemplative. Evelyn wondered how the carefully constructed walls around her personal life had crumbled in the face of these two determined students. What was it about her habits, her idiosyncrasies, that had been so transparent to them? The balcony, once a sanctuary of solitude, now seemed like an inadvertent stage where her private rituals were unwittingly exposed. In the dim light of the nursery, Evelyn couldn't shake the astonishment that these two women had not only uncovered her secrets but had actively taken steps to provide for her needs, albeit in an unconventional way. The complexity of the situation left her in a state of vulnerability, wrapped in a strange sense of care and intimacy that defied the traditional roles she had known for so long. As sleep finally claimed her, Evelyn's thoughts lingered on the mystery of connection—how these two students had seen beyond the professor and discovered the layers that lay beneath. The nursery, once a symbol of surprise and uncertainty, became a cocoon where Evelyn could rest, suspended between the past and an unforeseen future, her mind echoing with the enigma of newfound connections that transcended the boundaries of academia. Chapter IX When Sarah woke Evelyn up the next day, Evelyn found Sarah's lover making Evelyn's favorite breakfast. Evelyn sat at the table, as a bib was put on her and kids utensils (fork only) were provided Sarah's lover gave Evelyn a pre-cut plate and a sippy-cup with OJ. As Evelyn tried to feed herself, but really was being fed by Sarah, Sarah’s lover began to explain their plan… For the next 4 weeks, they'll treat Evelyn at a different age. AAt the end of the 4 weeks Evelyn will decide the desired age; then once a year Evelyn will decide if she wants to grow up, grow down or stay the same. Week 1 - 2 yr old Week 2 - 3 yr old Week 3 - 4 yr old Week 4 - 5 yr old Evelyn agreed, and so after breakfast Lisa took Evelyn to get dressed. As Lisa dressed Evelyn, she explained what life at each age would be like. Evelyn sat motionless as mommy Lisa, dressed her and talked. Explaining that while clothing and toys would change for each age, the use of diapers or pull-ups would not, nor would the ability to inform a grown-up when she had used her diaper. For her final touch, Lisa put a nice big bow , and a pacifier attached to her shirt. About an hour later, Sarah came out of their office and announced they're going on a walk. like a good mother and to Evelyn's surprise Sarah put Evelyn in a stroller. When Evelyn tried to protest, Lisa pushed the pacifier attached to Evelyn’s shirt in her mouth as Sarah pushed her out of the house. After about an hour’s walk, Evelyn was brought back home for a nap and some playtime, before being bathed and put to bed. Her days were suddenly all the same, sometimes their walks would end up in a playground, where Evelyn was expected to play with kids in her “age” group. Slowly, Evelyn was finally feeling happy, there was nothing humiliating or sexual about the behaviors of Lisa and Sarah towards her; they simply wanted to fulfill her unspoken dreams. Chapter X Towards the end of month, Evelyn was already being treated like a 5 year-old who wears pull-ups, something odd happened… Instead of being dressed like a “big kid”, Lisa put her in a diaper. Confused, Evelyn asked “Mommy, why am I dressed like a baby?”, to which Lisa replied “it’s a surprise…”. As breakfast Sarah began feeding Evelyn her breakfast, Evelyn asked “Mommy, why are you and mommy treating me like a baby again?”. Like Lisa, Sarah replied “it’s a surprise…” When breakfast was finished, Sarah put Evelyn in her playpen, and disappeared into the bedrooms. A few minutes later, Lisa and Sarah reappeared with 2 suitcases, Evelyn’s diaper bag. Their mysterious adventure began at the airport, where Evelyn, although having her own seat, spent the entire flight sitting on either Lisa or Sarah's lap. When the three reached their hotel room, Evelyn was put to bed for an early nap; after which she was put in a baby pastel dress, a diaper, and a pacifier clipped to her dress. After dressing themselves and Evelyn, the three women embarked towards an unknown for Evelyn but a clear destination for her mommies. After about a 15-minute stroll, they arrived at a really nice restaurant. To Evelyn's surprise, they were meeting Lisa's parents, who greeted her with the warmth one would reserve for a 2-year-old. The woman, who Lisa called mom, seemed vaguely familiar to Evelyn, though it was clear to her that they were both younger than her. Throughout dinner, the "adults" engaged in conversation, seemingly oblivious to Evelyn's presence. In this adult-oriented restaurant, one without a kids menu, Sarah and Lisa had come prepared, bringing baby food and a bottle for Evelyn. As the adults waited for their dessert, Lisa’s mom, who by now Evelyn had learned was named Tina, took Evelyn to sit on her lap. Acting fussy, Tina took Evelyn's clipped pacifier and inserted it into Evelyn’s mouth; as she recollected how the roles have changed. According to her story, Tina and Evelyn not only went to the same college. In fact, Evelyn was best friend’s with Tina’s big sister; and while never a part of the sorority, she often had the chance to haze Tina – forcing her to suck her thumb or a pacifier. Oftentimes Evely had a pacifier waiting for when Tina showed up with her “older sister”. She had finished the story with “oh how the tables have turned”... The next day, they went to another restaurant, this one more "child-friendly". This time meeting not only Sarah’s parents, also her slightly older sister and 2-year-old nephew, as well as Sarah’s 10-year-old brother. From the moment they arrived at lunch, it became clear to Evelyn she was the “baby” of the group. Her new “nephew” was wearing pull-ups, not diapers and was no longer using a pacifier during the day; while the 10-year-old was clearly treated much more as an adult as she has in the past month. As the adults waited for their food something inexplicable happened to Evelyn. She found herself lying on her aunty’s lap, being breastfed as if she were nothing more than an infant. By the time food arrived, Evelyn was already back in her stroller, sucking her pacifier and watching baby-ish videos on her mommy’s iPad. As the video played inches from her face, Evelyn had an internal conflict. On the one hand, she was enjoying the idea of being treated as she was. Having her deepest secrets and darkest secrets, even ones she didn’t understand how her mommies knew of, fulfilled. On the other hand, she understood that if she stays this way any longer she’ll never be an adult again. Even now, she wasn’t sure if she was still potty trained or not. Chapter XI Coming back to reality, Sarah, Lisa and Evelyn understood that they’d be better off financially if Professor Evelyn would go back to teaching. However, having your “mommy” walk you to class as you suck on a pacifier or thumb decreases your authoritarianism in the classroom. Worse off was “Professor Evelyn” when she’d mess herself, and begin to cry while giving a lecture on the timeline of events the class will cover during her third class. It had reached a point so bad that Evelyn’s boss called her into her office. Arriving with her two mommies, and sucking her pacifier, Evelyn arrived at her boss's office. As Evelyn sat on Sarah's lap, the dean listened to Lisa as she explained the state of Evelyn. Instead of firing Evelyn, the dean provided an unique proposal…. Evelyn would continue to receive her pay, but she would no longer be required to teach. In return, the dean requested that they collaborate on writing academic papers that explored Evelyn's regression and the process of her re-aging, with the goal of returning to a 5-year-old state by the time Sarah graduated in three years. Lisa and Sarah agreed, with the condition of legally declaring Evelyn as a child; which the dean was more than happy to help with. And so… Evelyn was declared a 2-year-old, Sarah became a psychology major and Lisa a childhood education major, both trying to reteach the ever so resistant Evelyn to slowly grow-up.

Chapter 1: This can't be real. "Ashley, did you remember to pack the camera for your sister?" Steve yelled while adding things to their car for their road trip. "Got it!" Ashley called back, lugging a heavy suitcase towards the car. She had packed meticulously, ensuring they had everything they needed for their week-long getaway. As she approached the car, she noticed Steve struggling with a large cooler. "Let me help you with that," she said, setting down the suitcase and moving to assist him. Together, they managed to load the cooler into the trunk, making space for the rest of their luggage. "Thanks, Ash," Steve said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Ashley smiled, feeling a warm sense of contentment. She loved moments like these, simple and mundane yet filled with a sense of togetherness. As they finished loading the car, Ashley glanced at the time. "We should get going if we want to make it to Sarah's before dark," she said, referring to her sister. "She's expecting us to drop off the camera today." Steve nodded, closing the trunk. "Let's hit the road, then. I can't wait to get to the cabin and relax." With everything packed and ready, they climbed into the car, the engine roaring to life as Steve turned the key. As they drove off, the sun shining brightly overhead, Ashley couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. It was their 4th year anniversary of dating each other. She was confident he was going to propose while out at the cabin. As they left the city, traffic grew heavier, and Steve, always the impatient one, decided to take a detour through the backroads to avoid the congestion. The scenic route wound through the mountains, offering breathtaking views of the rugged landscape. "Steve, do you know where we are going? We've never gone this way before to visit my sister." Ashley asked concerned they were going to be late. "Don't worry about it; the road has to connect at some point," he said nonchalantly. "If you say so," she replied, pulling out her phone. "Hey Sarah, we're going to be late. Steve is taking a new road this time. He's being his "adorable" self and refusing to listen to the GPS or his navigator, lol," Ashley texted her sister. Hours had gone by at this point, as they ascended higher into the mountains, their cell signal began to fade, eventually disappearing altogether. "I think we should turn back Steve," Ashley told him, concerned they might have gone too far without cell service. It's already been an hour since the last time she could do anything on her phone. Despite Ashley's protests, Steve assured her that they would soon find their way back to civilization. However, his optimism dwindled as the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the desolate road. With no cell service and no GPS to guide them. Steve admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe you're right. I'll stop at the next gas station or something and ask for directions." "Or, you know we could turn around?" "How? This road isn't wide enough for me to do that." They continued down the desolate road in silence; their nerves grew with each passing minute without an opportunity to turn back around. The fading light of dusk painted the landscape in eerie shadows, heightening their sense of isolation. Suddenly, with a sputter, their car lurched to a halt, billowing smoke from beneath the hood. Steve's heart sank as he stared at the dashboard, hoping for some sign of life from the engine. Only to see the check engine light and the red lining of the temperature gauge. The silence that followed was deafening. Ashley unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, stretching her legs and taking in their surroundings. She let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her phone, now displaying a bleak "No Service" message. "We should start walking," Steve said, forcing confidence into his voice as he opened the car door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. "Maybe there's a gas station or a house nearby where we can ask for help." Ashley nodded, though her eyes betrayed her growing unease. They began to walk up the road, the fading light casting long shadows ahead of them. The air was thick with the scent of pine trees and the distant hum of crickets. After what felt like an eternity, they came across an old, abandoned house nestled among the trees. The windows were boarded up, and the front porch sagged under the weight of neglect. Moss and leaflitter had overcome the roof nearly entirely. Ivy stretched up one side of the house threatening to overtake the decrepit structure. Steve hesitated, looking at the house and the setting sun, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a shroud. "We should keep going," he suggested, his voice tight with unease. Ashley hesitated an urgency in her bladder demanding her attention. "I have to go," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "And it's getting dark. We'll just go in, use the bathroom, and leave." Reluctantly, Steve nodded, his stomach churning with apprehension as they approached the crumbling porch. Couldn't she just go by a bush? The door creaked open with a rusty groan, revealing a dimly lit interior choked with dust and cobwebs. As they stepped inside, a chill wind whispered through the empty rooms, sending shivers down their spines. Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. WHAM Ashley and Steve both jumped at the loud noise, turning to see the door closed. Steve nervously scanned the dimly lit interior, his hand instinctively reaching for Ashley's. "Must've been some strong wind," he muttered, trying to rationalize the sudden slamming of the door. Ashley nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to suppress the rising panic. "Yeah, let's just find the bathroom and get out of here," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly. Standing in the hallway, their senses were on high alert, every creak and groan of the old house setting their nerves on edge. Ashley was about to take another step down the hallway when a sudden movement caught her eye. Turning towards the source of the disturbance, she froze in terror as a figure emerged from the shadows—a grotesque, life-sized mannequin with hollow eyes and a frozen smile. "Welcome, little ones," it cooed, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "It's time to play!" Steve and Ashley's hearts pounded in their chests as the figure began charging towards them frantically. Waving its arms about wildly. They froze on the spot, their minds unable to comprehend the surreal situation unfolding before them. Closing their eyes, they braced themselves for the inevitable. Suddenly, the mannequin's voice softened, sending a chill down their spines. "Uh-oh, looks like someone snuck their way out of the playroom," it said, its tone almost playful. "You two should know better. You wouldn't want to get in trouble, now would we?" Its smile widened to an unnatural length. Confused, Steve and Ashley cautiously opened their eyes. To their astonishment, the mannequin now loomed large before them, towering over them like a giant. The entire house had transformed, everything around them appearing larger than life. They were no longer their adult selves but had shrunk down to the size of toddlers, surrounded by oversized furniture and toys. Steve and Ashley blinked in disbelief, trying to make sense of their surreal surroundings. They realized that the abandoned house had undergone a dramatic transformation. What was once a decrepit, abandoned building now appeared pristine and inviting, as if frozen in time from its heyday as a bustling daycare center. The walls were painted in bright, cheerful colors and adorned with whimsical murals of smiling animals and playful children. Sunshine streamed in through large windows, casting warm, golden rays across the room, nothing like the outside they had just come from. Toys were neatly arranged in colorful bins, and child-sized furniture dotted the space. There was a cubby system across from the stairs in front of them, where kids hung their coats and placed their shoes. But despite the seemingly idyllic atmosphere, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The silence that filled the room was heavy with the weight of the unknown, and a creeping sense of dread clawed at the edges of their consciousness. "What... what's happening?" Ashley whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she clung to Steve's hand, her eyes wide with fear. Steve shook his head, his mind reeling with disbelief. "I-I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty and fear."This can't be real." The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Oh, but it is, my dears," it said, its eyes gleaming with an eerie light. "You're here to play, just like all the other little ones who came before you." As the realization of their predicament sank in, Ashley and Steve exchanged a terrified glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. They turned towards the door, desperate to escape, but to their horror, they found that the once easily reachable doorknob was now far beyond their grasp, towering above them like a monument to their helplessness. "We need to get out of here," Ashley cried, her voice tinged with panic as she tugged futilely at the door. "This can't be happening." Steve's mind raced, trying to make sense of their surreal situation. "There's no way out," his voice trembling with fear as he scanned the room for an escape route. The mannequin's voice cut through the air, sending a chill down their spines. "I'm afraid leaving is not an option, my dears," it said, its tone eerily calm. "You see, you're here to play, and play you shall." Steve and Ashley turned towards the mannequin, their eyes wide with fear and their backs pressed up against the door. It approached them, its towering figure casting a long shadow over them. Ashley's heart sank as she felt a warm trickle down her leg, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she was wetting her pants in fear. The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Looks like someone had an accident," it said, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "No matter, we'll get you cleaned up in no time." With a swift motion, the mannequin scooped up Steve and Ashley in its enormous arms, carrying them away from the door and up the stairs into the daycare. Steve and Ashley struggled against its grip, but it was no use. They were at the mercy of the supernatural force that held them captive. As they were carried through the daycare, they passed by a room with empty cribs and playpens, their surroundings a surreal mix of childhood innocence and eerie abandonment. The mannequin brought them to a brightly lit room filled with changing tables and stacks of diapers, a hint to their new reality. "Now, now, little ones," the mannequin cooed, placing them on the changing tables. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for playtime." Steve and Ashley exchanged a terrified glance, their minds reeling with fear and confusion. How had they ended up in this nightmare? And more importantly, was there a way out? Chapter 2: Changed Steve's heart raced as he struggled against the firm grip of the mannequin, his muscles straining with effort. He twisted and turned, desperate to break free, but its hold on him was unyielding. Ashley, stunned by the event that had unfolded, froze. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaming down her face. But she made no sound, too shocked by the sudden events. "Let us go!" Steve shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "This isn't right! We need to leave!" But his words fell on deaf ears as the feminine figure carried them up the stairs, its movements slow and deliberate. Steve's heart sank as he realized the futility of their situation. They were at the mercy of a supernatural force, trapped in a nightmare. As they reached the top of the stairs, the mannequin carried them into a brightly lit room, the walls adorned with colorful murals of children's finger paintings. Some of them clearly cries for help, with large red letters on some of the drawings reading "LET ME GO" and "HELP!" Diaper boxes lined the walls, with two changing tables. One at the end of the wall, with a dresser adjacent to it. Across the room was a large playpen with nothing in it, almost like it was meant to be a holding cell. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Steve twisted and wiggled, managing to slip out of the mannequin's hold. He fell towards the ground, his heart pounding in his chest, only to be caught once again as the mannequin's grip tightened around him. As he dangled in the air, he met the mannequin's gaze, his eyes widening in terror as its face contorted into a grotesque expression before snapping back to its benign facade. The room around them seemed to warp and shift, along with its face. The walls pulsating with otherworldly energy. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before him. The mannequin's voice echoed in his mind, its words soft yet chilling. "You need to be more careful, little one," its tone syrupy sweet yet laced with menace. "You wouldn't want to get into trouble, would you?" Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "What do you want from us?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. But the mannequin remained silent, its painted lips curled into a twisted smile. With a flicker of movement, it released Steve from its grasp, setting him down into the playpen across from the table. "You need to wait your turn, young man," it whispered, sending shivers down Steve's spine. The mannequin then turned back to the table, placing Ashley on the changing table, its movements gentle. Ashley snapped out of her shock as she realized what the mannequin was trying to do. She started to struggle against its grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear gripping her. She watched in terror as the mannequin's hands reached for her, its touch cold and unnerving. With a swift motion, it began to undress her, stripping her of her clothes with a mechanical precision that sent shivers down her spine. "Please, let us go," Ashley pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. "We don't belong here. We just want to go home." The mannequin pressed Ashley to the changing table firmly, pulled out the straps, and tied her down to it. "I'm sorry, sweetie, only your parents can pick you up from the daycare. But It's okay; we'll take really good care of you until they get here." Its voice felt unsettling, ringing in their ears. It sounded sweet yet menacing. What is the deal with this thing? Ashley struggled against the restraints on the changing table, panic rising within her. Frantically, she attempted to undo the straps, her fingers fumbling with the buckles. "Steve, please help me!" she cried out, her voice choked with fear and desperation. But Steve was stuck in the playpen, his attempts to escape proving futile. He watched helplessly, clinging to the rim of the pen on his tiptoes, his heart aching with fear for Ashley. He watched in horror as her wet pants were removed and discarded. Ashley's eyes darted to her phone as it fell out of her pocket, a glimmer of hope flickering within her. But her hope was short-lived as the mannequin's voice filled the room, its tone stern and unsettling. "Phones are for grown-ups, little one," it admonished, its words echoing in her mind. "Children aren't allowed to play with them." With a deft movement, the mannequin picked up Ashley's phone and placed it on a shelf above the changing table, far out of her reach. Ashley's heart sank as she realized her only lifeline to the outside world was beyond her grasp. She quickly looked toward Steve, hoping he could find a way to hide his phone. Maybe they could use his to escape? As the mannequin continued to undress her, Ashley's mind raced with fear and uncertainty. She was truly at the mercy of this twisted entity, trapped in a nightmare from which she could not wake. Steve, seeing how it handled the situation with the phone and the look Ashley gave him, began to look for a place he could stash his. He knew he had to do something, anything, to keep it away from it. But as he looked around the room, all he saw was the colorful murals and the ominous diaper boxes lining the walls. Steve looked back at Ashley, meeting her gaze. He was shocked to his core. The mannequin had completely stripped her down. She was naked! Mortification and frustration boiled within him. No one was allowed to do that to her except him! Fear set in as he realized, however, that there was no way he could hide his phone on himself, not with it stripping them down to their birthday suits. He could see her face bright red with humiliation from what was unfolding. The mannequin then reached down to the shelf right below the table Ashley was on, grabbing a rectangular object that looked to be folded. "There we go, all clean now. Time to get you dressed for the day. Now, do you want to wear the princesses or the flowers, deary?" The mannequin was holding two diapers, both in bright pink. Ashley started to scream. "No! No! No! You can't do this! I don't want to wear a diaper! No!" She screamed, her pleas falling on deaf ears. "Calm down, sweetie. You'll be able to get back to playing in no time." The mannequin placed the pink flower diaper on the shelf below, setting it aside for another time. "We'll go with princesses today for the little princess who played dress up." The mannequin unfolded the diaper and lifted Ashley's legs up to slide the diaper under her bare butt. Ashley's eyes flooded with tears. Here she was, a 23-year-old woman getting put in a diaper. Every second felt painstakingly slow. She felt the mannequin lower her back onto the diaper. It was shockingly soft, softer than she would have expected. The mannequin pulled the front of the diaper up, covering her privates. The bulkiness of the material was hard to ignore. Finally, it reached to the side to grab the tape and, one by one, taped the diaper around her waist. "There we go, nice fresh diaper for the little miss. I got the perfect outfit for you, too." The mannequin cooed lovingly as if it was playing dress-up with a doll. "Here we are!" It held out a bright pink frilly dress romper. It had a zipper at the back, making it hard for little ones to remove it independently. The mannequin slid the romper up Ashley's legs, getting her feet through the leg holes, pulling up as far as it could with her still lying down. It then unbuckled her, standing her up, placing her arms through the arm holes, and finally zippering up the back to hold it all in place. "Don't you look pretty?" The mannequin smiled with a genuine smile of satisfaction at how cute she looked. Steve had a clear line of sight to Ashley; she looked just like a toddler, and even her chest looked flat in that dress. "No!" Steve shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I won't let you do this to us! We're not children! We're adults, damn it!" The mannequin's painted lips twisted into a scowl at Steve's outburst, its eyes narrowing with displeasure. With a slow, deliberate movement, it turned its head away from Ashley, whose eyes were filled with terror at the sight of the mannequin's face. Slowly, it turned its head towards Steve, its expression morphing into a grotesque visage that sent shivers down his spine. "Young man, we do not use such language in this daycare," the mannequin's voice rang out, icy and menacing. "You must learn to behave yourself. Such attitudes will not be tolerated." Before Steve could react, the mannequin twisted its body and charged toward him with surprising speed, its movements unnaturally swift. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the impact, his mind racing with fear and desperation. The mannequin's cold hands closed around him. With a sudden, violent motion, the mannequin lifted Steve into the air, its grip unyielding. Steve struggled against its hold, his muscles straining with effort, but it was futile. The mannequin's strength was beyond human, its power seemingly limitless. As Steve dangled in the air, his mind raced with fear and desperation. He cast a frantic glance towards Ashley, his eyes pleading for her help. But Ashley could only watch helplessly, her heart pounding in her chest. Thinking fast, Steve seized the opportunity to act. With a quick, desperate motion, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, his fingers closing around the familiar device. With a swift motion, he hurled it towards Ashley. Ashley's eyes widened in surprise as she caught the phone, her fingers trembling with adrenaline. She tucked it into the front of her dress, securely held in place between the soft fabric and her squished chest, concealing it from view. Her heart raced with hope as she realized they might have a chance to escape this nightmare after all. As Ashley quickly jumped off the changing table, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt the frilly fabric of the romper swish around her legs with each step. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, the soft material tickling her skin. But there was no time to dwell on her discomfort; Steve's safety was her top priority. With determination blazing in her eyes, Ashley sprinted towards Steve, her feet stumbling slightly on the unfamiliar terrain of the daycare floor. Every movement felt exaggerated in the oversized romper, the ruffles bouncing with each step. As she neared, she could see the fear etched on Steve's face, his eyes pleading for her help. Without hesitation, she raised her foot and delivered a swift, powerful kick to the back of the mannequin's knee. The impact sent a jolt of pain shooting up her leg, but she ignored it, focusing all her strength on the task at hand. The mannequin let out a mechanical groan as its artificial joints buckled beneath the force of Ashley's blow. It stumbled forward, its grip on Steve loosening as it struggled to maintain its balance. For a brief moment, it teetered on the brink of collapse, its plastic limbs flailing wildly as it fought to regain its footing. Seizing the opportunity, Steve wriggled free from the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he stumbled backward, his limbs trembling with exertion. He cast a grateful glance towards Ashley, his eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Together, they watched as the mannequin stumbled forward, its balance precarious. The mannequin teetered on the brink of falling, its arms flailing wildly. Steve and Ashley exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors of the daycare. Behind them, the mannequin let out a mechanical screech of rage, its eyes glowing with malevolent fury as it gave chase. The world around them had warped again, back to its abandoned state, the facade of the daycare gone. Terrified, Steve and Ashley refused to look back. As Ashley and Steve descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence, a sense of urgency gripped them. They dared a quick glance back and saw the mannequin, now moving on all fours with unnerving speed, closing the distance between them. Panic surged through their veins, propelling them forward faster. But in their haste, they failed to watch their surroundings. Without warning, they collided with something solid, sending them both sprawling to the ground. As they recovered from the impact and looked up, they were met with the sight of another mannequin, different from the menacing one chasing them. This mannequin had a soft, caring smile, its eyes filled with warmth and understanding. It seemed to radiate a sense of calm amidst the chaos surrounding them. The daycare around them had transformed once again, returning to its pristine state, as if nothing had happened. As the new mannequin approached, its soft, caring smile seemed to put Ashley and Steve at ease, despite their recent ordeal. They scrambled to their feet, their eyes flickering between the two mannequins, unsure of what to expect. "It looks like we've had some runaways," the new mannequin said with a chuckle, its voice soothing and gentle. It then turned, looking back upstairs to the other mannequin. "Are you alright, Nyxara?" Nyxara, the once-menacing mannequin at the top of the stairs, now stood in its pristine form, its grotesque and menacing presence seemingly erased. It smiled warmly down at the new mannequin, its eyes filled with a sense of relief. "Yes, I'm alright, Elysia," Nyxara replied, her voice now calm and reassuring. "Thank you for the assistance. These two are a bit more... rowdy." Elysia knelt down in front of Steve and Ashley, her expression kind and gentle. "You two shouldn't run off like that," she said softly. "You could get hurt. But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to keep you safe and entertained until your mommies and daddies come back to pick you up." Steve and Ashley exchanged a puzzled glance. "Mommy and Daddy?" Steve repeated, his voice tinged with confusion. "What are you talking about? We're not children," Steve protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "We're adults. We don't need babysitters." Elysia giggled at Steve's protest, her smile never faltering. "Oh, sweetie, you only think you're an adult because of playing dress-up," she said gently. "But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to take care of you now. It's time to change back into your proper clothes." Elysia picked Steve up, cradling him in her arms as she headed back upstairs. Steve struggled against her hold, his protests growing louder. "No, let me go! I'm not a child!" he cried, his voice filled with frustration and fear. Nyxara descended the stairs. Her gaze fell upon Ashley, who stood frozen in fear. Her heart sank. She watched in despair as the figure approached, its arms outstretched, ready to pick her up. Ashley instinctively stepped back, her eyes pleading for mercy, but it's expression remained unchanged, it's smile warm but unwavering. With a gentle yet firm grip, the monster like creature scooped Ashley into its arms, her touch surprisingly warm for a mannequin. Ashley's heart raced as she was carried away. She looked over her captor's shoulder, locking eyes with Steve, who was now in Elysia's care, being comforted in a way that made him feel embarrassed and frustrated. They reached out to each other, their hands stretching towards one another, but the distance between them grew with each passing step. Steve's protests grew louder as Elysia cooed soothing words to him, attempting to calm his fears. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart," Elysia murmured, rocking Steve gently in her arms. "There's no need to cry. I'm here to take care of you." Steve's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being treated like a baby. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying his facade of maturity. As Nyxara carried Ashley away, her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the daycare. She reached out desperately towards Steve, but he was already out of sight. Hearing the girl's cry about losing her friend she was playing dress-up with. Nyxara reassured the girl. "There, there, dear," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't cry. You'll see your friend again soon. But for now, let's go play with the other kids, shall we?" An innocent smile full of warmth grew on her face, feeling as if she was doing a good job taking care of the latest additions to the daycare. Chapter 3: Newfound Friends As Ashley was carried away, her mind raced with fear and confusion. She struggled against the mannequin's grip, but it was futile. She felt helpless, at the mercy of these strange and otherworldly beings. Nyxara held Ashley tightly as she stepped down the corridors of the daycare, eventually arriving at a brightly lit room filled with toys and games. Ashley's eyes widened in wonder and confusion as she took in her surroundings. The room seemed frozen in time, as if it was newly constructed or renovated, pristine in every aspect. As Nyxara gently set Ashley down on the floor, Ashley's eyes widened in shock as her gaze fell upon two figures sitting in the corner of the room. One was a woman who looked younger than herself, with long brown hair and a worried expression. The other was a middle-aged man with a rugged appearance and a look of resignation in his eyes. Both were the same small size as her and Steve, smaller than any average adult could be. Ashley approached them cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked panicly "Do you know where that thing took Steve? Do you know a way out?" The young woman and the man exchanged glances before shaking their heads. They remained silent, their eyes darting nervously towards the door. It was as if they were afraid to speak, as if there would be consequences. Frustrated by their silence, Ashley pressed on. "Please, you have to tell me something," she pleaded. "We need to find a way out of here. Do you know anything about this place? Who are those mannequins? What do they want with us?" They both remained silent, but the man slowly reached out and picked up a few toy blocks. With a deliberate motion, he arranged them on the floor to spell out two words: S-H-U-T U-P. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Was he trying to warn her? Was he telling her to stop asking questions? Before she could react, Nyxara approached, her expression stern. "It's not polite to ask too many questions," Nyxara scolded gently, her tone surprisingly motherly. "We're here to play and have fun. Isn't that right, Kelly, Nick?" Kelly and Nick nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a mixture of fear and acceptance. It was clear that they were afraid of Nyxara and what she might do if they disobeyed. Feeling defeated, Ashley backed away, her mind racing with unanswered questions. She glanced back towards the stairs, where Steve had disappeared, and felt a pang of sadness and longing. They were trapped in this nightmarish daycare, at the mercy of forces they couldn't understand or control. Ashley's heart raced as she looked back towards the man, who had spelled out "Shut up" with the toy blocks just moments ago. With trembling hands, she picked up the blocks and arranged them to spell out her name: A-S-H-L-E-Y. She held her breath, waiting for a response. Nick's eyes widened in surprise as he read her name spelled out in the blocks. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before rearranging the blocks to form his name: N-I-C-K Relief flooded through Ashley as she realized she had made a connection with one of the other trapped individuals. She felt a glimmer of hope that Nick might have some answers or insights into their situation. Gathering her courage, she formed another question with the blocks: W-H-E-R-E S-T-E-V-E. Nick's brow furrowed in concentration as he rearranged the blocks once more. With painstaking effort, he spelled out: M-O-T-H-E-R U-P-S-T-A-I-R-S. Ashley's stomach churned with unease at the mention of Steve being with the mannequin upstairs. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since they arrived at the daycare. What was happening to Steve? Was he safe? And what did Nick mean by "mother"? Before Ashley could ask any of her questions, Nick hurriedly scrambled the blocks, erasing the words he had just spelled out, as the mannequin approached to check on them. Nyxara's expression softened as she observed the trio, a smile playing on her lips. "It warms my heart to see you all getting along," Nyxara said, her voice tinged with an eerie sweetness. "Isn't it wonderful to have friends to play with?" Ashley forced a smile, nodding weakly as she tried to suppress the rising anger within her. Luckily the mannequin didn't stick around, it was satisfied at their nods. Ashley glanced at the young woman sitting in the corner, who was curiously watching them. Feeling a sense of determination, Ashley approached the girl, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi, I'm Ashley," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hesitantly reached for the toy blocks scattered on the floor. With trembling hands, she arranged the blocks to spell out her name: K-E-L-L-Y. "Kelly," Ashley repeated, nodding in acknowledgment. "Do you know anything about this place? How did you end up here?" Kelly's expression grew somber as she shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow. She seemed reluctant to speak, as if afraid of what might happen if she spoke too much. "Alright kiddies, you be good, I'm only going to be a minute." the menacing mannequin smiled, looking at the three of them in the corner. "It's snack time, and I bet you all are getting hungry" as it left the room to fetch snacks, Nick and Kelly leaned in close to Ashley, speaking in hushed whispers. "We don't have much time," Nick said, his voice urgent. "We need to be careful. Nyxara is very easy to anger. She's the one who decides when we get punished, and trust me, the simplest of things can set her off." "How long have you been here?" Ashley asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nick glanced around nervously before replying, "I've lost track of time, but I think it's been about ten years. Kelly here has been here for a few weeks, I think." Kelly nodded, confirming Nick's words. "Yeah, it's been a few weeks. I... I don't know how much longer I can take this." "What do they want with us?" Ashley whispered, her voice trembling with fear at the realization that someone had been here for so long already. What hopes do they have to escape if someone who's been here ten years still hasn't found a way out? Nick glanced towards the door once more before answering. "I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I've seen what happens to those who disobey. It's not pretty. We have to follow their rules if we want to survive." "What rules?" Ashley asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do we need to do to survive?" Nick continued to glance around nervously before answering each question. "First, we need to play along. Act like children, do what they say, and don't ask too many questions. Second, don't try to leave the daycare. The doors are locked, and if Nyxara catches you trying to escape... She'll punish you." Kelly added, "And whatever you do, don't anger Elysia. She's the other mannequin, the one who acts like a mother to us. She can be kind, but if she thinks you're a threat to the 'children,' she'll become... violent. That's how we lost David." Her eyes trailed off, a look of pure terror at whatever had taken place. Ashley's head spun with the weight of this new information. She had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. "What about Steve?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Is he in danger?" Before they could discuss further, Nyxara returned with a tray of snacks. She set it down in front of them, her smile bright and unnerving. "Here you go, my little ones," she said sweetly. "Enjoy your snacks, and remember to behave." Nick, with a forced smile plastered on his face, musters up a small voice, "Th-thank you, Miss Nyxara, for the snacks." He mimics the behavior of a grateful child, hoping to appease the unsettling presence before them. Kelly and Ashley remain silent, their expressions a mix of apprehension and obedience. Nyxara's smile widens at Nick's words, her eyes gleaming with an eerie delight. "You're welcome, sweetie," she coos, her tone saccharine yet tinged with an underlying threat. With a final glance at the trio, she turns and leaves to check on Steve, Nick leaned in closer to Ashley, his expression grave. "We need to be careful," Nick whispered urgently. "Elysia is different from Nyxara. She's... she's more motherly, but her love can be suffocating. She wants us to be her children and will do anything to she can to mother us, even if that means..." Nick's voice trailed off, but Ashley understood the implication. Elysia's protection could easily turn into possessiveness and violence. Just then, the door creaked open, and Steve was brought in by Elysia. His clothes had changed, now fitting for a toddler, and his expression was filled with concern. Ashley's heart sank at the sight of him, wondering what horrors he had endured. Steve glanced around the room, his eyes widening in shock as they landed on Ashley and the other two. He tried to speak, but he lost his words, realizing the mannequin was still there. Ashley rushed to his side, embracing him tightly, trying to offer him some comfort in this terrifying situation. "What... what is going on? Who are they?" Steve managed to stammer out, his voice trembling with fear. Ashley quickly explained what she had learned about the daycare from Nick. The little bit she learned about the two mannequins Nyxara, and Elysia, emphasizing the need to play along and not provoke the mannequins. Steve listened intently, his expression filled with disbelief and horror. As Ashley held Steve tightly, her mind raced with concern and questions. She wanted to know what had happened to him, what he had seen or experienced since they were separated. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the fear and embarrassment reflected in them. "What happened to you, Steve?" Ashley whispered, her voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?" Steve shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. "It's... it's basically the same thing that happened to you." Ashley felt a pang of sympathy for him. She knew how humiliating and degrading their experiences had been, forced to dress like toddlers, and placed in a diaper. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Steve's voice trembled as he looked into Ashley's eyes, desperation evident in his gaze. "Ashley, do you still have my phone?" he asked, trying to change the subject from their dire situation. Both Kelly and Nick's eyes widened at the question, their expressions mirroring Steve's hope. Ashley's mind raced as she remembered the phone tucked away in her dress, pinned to her chest between her breasts. She had completely forgotten about it in the chaos of their situation. "Yes, I still have it!" Ashley exclaimed, relief flooding through her. Steve's eyes lit up with hope. Ashley went to reach into her dress for it but stopped seeing Nick and Kelly looking at her. Feeling embarrassed, she turned around so her back faced them, providing a little privacy as she retrieved the phone from her dress. She handed it over to Steve so he could unlock his phone. Praying that there is a signal. They got into this whole mess because there wasn't any reception. What would be the odds of them having a signal now, of all times? The group huddled together, their hearts racing with a newfound hope as Steve unlocked his phone and discovered a single little bar. Each of them voiced their opinions on who Steve should contact for help. "We should call the police," Nick suggested, his voice filled with urgency. "They can come and rescue us from this nightmare." Ashley shook her head, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "If we place a call they'll notice right away," she whispered. "We can't lose our chance if it catches us before we make contact." Steve furrowed his brow in thought, weighing their options carefully. "What about your sister, Sarah?" he suggested, turning to Ashley. "She might be able to help us without alerting anyone else." Ashley's eyes widened in realization. "That's a good idea," she said, agreeing. "Sarah knows about our trip and could come looking for us if we don't show up. Plus, she's close by and won't attract too much attention." With their decision made, Steve quickly drafted a distress message to Sarah, explaining their situation in as much detail as possible without trying to sound too crazy by revealing too much about the supernatural elements of their predicament. They debated the wording, making sure to convey the urgency of their situation on how they have been effectively kidnapped, and are being held hostage with no way of escape or being able to contact the athorities. But before they could hit send, a shadow began to loom over them. Nyxara's voice filled the room, her tone laced with anger and suspicion. "What are you kids up to?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the phone in Steve's hand. "What are you doing with that?" Nyxara demanded, her voice cold and menacing. "You know you're not allowed to have that. Give it to me, now." Steve hesitated, clutching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew they couldn't let Nyxara take it, but he also knew that defying her would have consequences. Before he could make a decision, Nyxara lunged forward, grabbing for the phone. Steve and Ashley struggled to keep it out of her reach, but Nyxara was too strong. With a swift motion, she snatched the phone from Steve's hand. "You disobedient children," Nyxara scolded, her voice filled with anger. "You know the rules. No phones. Those are for adults only!" You'll both be punished for this." Steve and Ashley exchanged worried glances, seeing the mannequin's face warp along with the daycare. Realizing they had just made a dangerous enemy. They knew they would have to be more careful than ever if they wanted to escape the daycare and survive. Before Steve could even formulate a response, Elysia intervened, her voice calm yet firm as she stepped forward to defend the frightened group of "children." "Now, now, Nyxara," Elysia interjected, her tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps they were simply trying to decide what to do with the phone. After all, they are just children, and it's natural for them to be curious." Nyxara's eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced by Elysia's defense of the children. However, after a moment of tense silence, she seemed to relent. With a final glare at Steve and Ashley, she turned and headed upstairs, taking the phone with her. Steve and Ashley let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Elysia's intervention. However, they knew they had narrowly avoided a dangerous situation. They needed to be more cautious. Nick, seeing an opportunity to gain favor, turned to Elysia with a forced smile. "Thank you, Miss Elysia," he said, his voice filled with false cheerfulness. "We'll be sure to behave and not cause any more trouble." Elysia nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Of course, my dear," she replied, her tone soothing. "Just remember, we're all here to play and have fun. Now, why don't you all go and enjoy your snacks? I'm sure you must be hungry." Nick nodded obediently, then turned to Ashley and Steve, a look of concern on his face. "Did you manage to send the message?" he asked quietly. Steve shook his head, a look of disappointment crossing his features. "No, I couldn't," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "It took the phone before I could hit send." The whole group hung their head in defeat, now what are they going to do? They slowly began to shuffle their feet over towards the little table that sat in the playroom where their snacks were located. Suddenly, Steve doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach as a sharp pang shot through his abdomen. Ashley's eyes widened in alarm as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with worry. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Chapter 4: A Bottle?! *Steve's point of view when they separated* Steve struggled against the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was filled with embarrassment, fear, and confusion. This couldn't be happening. They were adults, not children. But the more he protested, the tighter it held him, its comforting words trying to soothe him only made him angrier and angrier at the situation he found himself in. As they reached the top of the stairs, Steve's protests grew more desperate. "Please, let me go! We're not children!" he pleaded, but its smile remained unfazed. It carried him back into the changing room, lined with diaper boxes and changing tables. Setting him down gently on a changing table, it cooed, "It's time to get you cleaned up and changed, sweetie." Steve's face burned with embarrassment as it began to undress him, revealing his boxer briefs underneath his pants. He tried to resist, but its gentle yet firm touch made it impossible. It secured him to the table just as the other mannequin did with Ashley. He was stuck now; the straps were locked in a way that refused to budge for him, no matter how hard he tried. Steve refused just to let this happen; he refused to get diapered like Ashley. He threw his body around as much as he could in hopes of making it impossible for the mannequin to diaper him, but it was no use. It just proceeded as if dealing with a difficult child. It just continued to change Steve, cooing softly, "Oh, you must be hungry, that's why you're so fussy. Don't worry. We'll get you something to fill your belly after this." Steve's eyes widened with terror. If they were willing to diaper them because they thought they were children, what would it try to feed them? Not only that, but these things are otherworldly, who knows what this food even was. His embarrassment deepened further as he realized the mannequin was treating him like a toddler in need of care. With gentle efficiency, it removed Steve's shirt. He felt humiliated and helpless as it changed him and expertly fastened a fresh diaper around his waist. He tried to maintain his composure, but the situation was too surreal. He was a grown man being treated like a toddler, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, he saw it grab a yellow duck onesie and a pair of tiny jean overalls, completing his transformation from a grown man to a toddler-like figure. As it finished diapering him, it smiled warmly. "There, now you're ready to play," it said cheerfully. "But first, let's get you that bottle" Before Steve could protest, it lifted him off of the changing table, and back into it's arms carrying him out of the room. Steve's mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body was powerless against the mannequin's strength. It brought him into the nursery across the hall from the changing room. The room was filled with colorful toys, soft blankets, and a row of cribs along one wall. The mannequin placed Steve in one of the cribs before moving to the mini fridge in the corner. Steve watched in disbelief as the mannequin retrieved a bottle from the fridge and placed it in a bottle warmer. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was a grown man, trapped in a nightmare where he was being treated like a helpless child. Steve's heart pounded as he watched the mannequin move about the nursery, his mind racing with desperation. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of a way out, but all he saw were rows of cribs, the mini fridge in the corner, a sink, locked cabinets, and the imposing figure of the mannequin looming over him. There were no windows, other doors, or vents they could climb through. This room was a secure prison designed strictly for sleeping. His eyes flicked to the bars of the crib, his stomach churning with frustration. The bars were far too high for him to be able to climb out. He could try to get up and out, but realistically he knew doing so now, would be pointless, the mannequin would catch him, after taking two steps, there was no way he could escape it. How could they possibly escape this nightmare? It seemed like every avenue was blocked, every attempt at resistance futile. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his panic at bay. The mannequin returned to his side, a warm bottle in its hand, a sickly sweet smell emanating from its contents. Steve recoiled instinctively, his throat constricting with revulsion. He had no idea what was in that bottle, but he knew he couldn't trust it. The mannequin offered the bottle to Steve with a gentle smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Drink up. It's just warm milk," it cooed. Steve's eyes widen in worry. He is lactose intolerant, he can't drink milk, it messes with his stomach. He stood there staring at the mannequin, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to play with this twisted game, but he was also trapped in a crib too tall to escape from. The mannequin's smile faltered slightly as it noticed Steve's hesitation. "Come on now, sweetie," it urged, its tone still gentle but with a hint of impatience. "Don't be difficult. You need to drink your milk like a good little boy." Steve's mind raced as he weighed his options. Drinking the milk could have serious consequences for his lactose intolerance, but defying the mannequin could lead to unknown punishments or further confinement. Trapped in the crib with no means of escape, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. With a heavy heart, Steve reluctantly reached out for the bottle, his fingers trembling as he accepted it from the mannequin's grasp. The sickly, sweet smell assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn with unease. He glanced up at the mannequin, silently pleading for mercy, but its expression remained unmoved. As Steve slowly brought the bottle to his lips, he hesitated again, his inner turmoil evident in his furrowed brow. The mannequin's patience wore thin, and with a firm yet gentle grip, it lifted him from the crib and settled him in its arms, cradling him against its rigid form. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself ensnared in the mannequin's embrace, his muscles tense with apprehension. He wanted to resist, to fight against the unnatural force that held him captive, but he knew it was futile. He was at the mercy of the mannequin's whims, powerless to defy its will. Settling into a rocking chair, the mannequin began to sway back and forth, its movements rhythmic and soothing. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he felt the bottle pressed against his lips, the warmth of the liquid seeping through the bottle's nipple. With a sense of resignation, Steve reluctantly began to drink the milk. Each swallow was a struggle, his mind riveting at the thought of what it might do to his body. But the mannequin showed no signs of relenting, its grip unyielding as it forced him to consume the entire contents of the bottle. Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he fought against the urge to retch. He felt like a helpless child being fed against his will, stripped of his autonomy and dignity. But no matter how much he resisted, the mannequin's hold remained firm, its eerie presence casting a shadow over him. As he sucked down the milk, the mannequin sat there, holding him. Staring into his eyes, lovingly watching him with a maternal gaze. "There, there, everything will be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. Steve continued to drink the milk, feeling defeated and helpless in the mannequin's arms. As he reluctantly finished the bottle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The other mannequin from earlier, the one that took Ashley away, the darker and more menacing mannequin, entered the nursery, causing Steve's heart to race with fear. Its presence was unnerving, its cold, lifeless eyes scanning the room. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he realized Ashley was missing from its side. Its gaze lingered on Steve briefly, sending a shiver down his spine before it turned to the mannequin holding him. "Elysia, the snacks for the kids are out," it stated in a gravelly voice, its tone devoid of warmth or emotion. Elysia, the mannequin holding him, smiled warmly. "Thank you, Nyxara. This one has already had his bottle, so he might not eat much," she replied, motioning towards Steve. Nyxara nodded silently before turning and leaving the nursery. Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that it had left without incident. The mannequin holding him then carried Steve downstairs to join the other "children." As they descended the stairs, Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ashley, among others who had been transformed into childlike figures. She looked just as bewildered and frightened as he felt. Chapter 5: A Messy Situation Steve's face contorted in pain as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ashley's heart raced with worry as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with concern. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with alarm. "What's wrong?" Steve tried to brush off the issue, but his voice was strained with discomfort. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, his face pale with pain. "It'll probably pass." But the sharp pang in his abdomen refused to be ignored. Steve's attempts to downplay the situation only made Ashley more concerned. She reached out to touch his forehead, checking for signs of fever, but before she could say anything, Elysia approached them, her eyes filled with concern. "What's the matter, little one?" Elysia asked, her voice gentle as she knelt beside Steve. "Are you feeling unwell?" Steve winced as Elysia's hand touched his forehead, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to pull away, but the figure's other hand shot out and clenched his bicep. She tilted her head, studying him with curiosity and concern. "What did you do to him!?" Ashley interjected, her voice filled with worry and panic. "He was fine before you took him upstairs." Elysia did not regard Ashley's concern, and her expression was sympathetic. "Poor thing," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "It must be hard for you, being away from your mommy and daddy." She completely ignored Ashley's questioning. Steve felt frustrated at the creature's words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He didn't want to admit to Ashley that he was fed a bottle like a baby, but he couldn't stand the thought of being talked down like he was a child. He tried to protest, to tell it that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated like one, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded weakly, unable to meet it's gaze. Elysia's eyes softened with compassion as she reached out to pat Steve's back, her touch surprisingly comforting despite the circumstances. "There, there, little one," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't worry. Elysia is here to take care of you." But as Elysia tried to comfort him, Steve's stomach lurched with increasing intensity, sending waves of nausea coursing through his body. He gasped in pain, his face contorted with discomfort as he struggled to hold back the building pressure in his bowels. "I-I need to use the bathroom," Steve managed to stammered out, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, I need to go..." But Elysia seemed oblivious to Steve's distress, focusing solely on comforting him. She reached out to pick him up, her touch gentle as she lifted him into her arms. Steve's stomach churned with unease as she began to rock him back and forth, her movements only making the pressure in his bowels harder to hold in. "Shh, shh, it's okay, little one," Elysia murmured, her voice soothing yet distant. "Everything will be alright, you'll see." But Steve knew he couldn't wait any longer. The urge to use the bathroom was becoming unbearable. He struggled to break free from Elysia's grasp, his voice trembling with urgency. "I-I need to go," he insisted, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, let me go..." But Elysia seemed unable to understand Steve's words, and her focus was solely on comforting him. Steve's heart sank as he realized he was running out of time. Steve's stomach cramps intensified, and his eyes darted around the room in a panic. He caught sight of the other male in the group, unable to recall his name. His eyes were wide with understanding. Steve knew he must know why Elysia wasn't responding to his pleas. Steve recalled being told that the other man had been here longer; he must have learned how the mannequins responded and worked. But the man said nothing. Steve's desperation grew as he realized he couldn't hold on much longer. He wanted to reach out and beg for help, but he hesitated, unsure of what they might do or, more accurately, what they could do. These things were huge in comparison to them. Steve's face twisted in agony as the pressure in his bowels reached its breaking point. With a sickening realization, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer. His stomach clenched with a force he couldn't contain, and before he could even register what was happening, he felt the warmth spreading in his diaper. A warm, mushy sensation filled his diaper, the smell hitting him almost instantly. He gasped, mortified, as he accidentally shit himself for the first time since he was a kid. The hot, mushy diarrhea surged forth, filling the confines of his diaper with a sickening squelch. Steve's cheeks burned with humiliation as it was happening, his body betraying him in the most mortifying way possible. He whimpered in shame, unable to stop the humiliating torrent of mess. "O-oh no..." Steve whimpered, his voice filled with shame and embarrassment. He could feel the mess spreading, the diaper growing heavy and uncomfortable against his skin. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Elysia, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and horror as she watched Steve's distress unfold before her. The pained expression on his face, coupled with the sickening realization of what was happening, sent a wave of nausea churning in her stomach. She took a step back, her hands instinctively covering her mouth to stifle a gasp of disbelief. Kelly, who had been observing the scene with a mixture of concern and fear, recoiled slightly at the smell that filled the air. Her eyes darted between Steve and Ashley, a small look of disgust crossing her features. But beneath the disgust, there was a flicker of embarrassment, a memory resurfacing in her mind. Elysia's gentle teasing cut through the air, her voice light yet mocking. "Oh dear, it seems little Steve had a little accident," she remarked, her tone almost sing-song. "Such a messy little one, aren't you?" Steve's cheeks burned with shame as Elysia's words sank in. He could feel the weight of his messy diaper pressing against him, the warmth and smell serving as a reminder of his humiliating predicament. He wanted to protest, to tell Elysia that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated as such, but the words caught in his throat. How could he even say that when he was in her arms in a dirty diaper? Elysia's demeanor shifted slightly as she continued to speak, her voice softer yet tinged with authority. "It's alright, little one," she said. "We'll have to get you cleaned up and changed. But first, let's get you something to drink and some snacks. That should give you plenty of time to finish anything else still in your belly," she giggled. Steve could only stare at it in disbelief; not only did this thing just force him to shit himself, but it was going to make him stay in it till it deemed he could be changed! His cheeks burned with shame and resentment. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable squishiness of his diaper. But the smell, the warmth, it was all too much. He felt like a helpless child, unable to control his own body. Elysia set him back down on the ground, her touch seemed surprisingly gentle and caring despite the humiliating situation. Steve felt a rush of relief as he was freed from her grasp, but it was short-lived. The reality of his messy diaper felt like a ton of bricks, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Steve's gaze fell on Ashley as his tormentor turned away to attend to something else. Her expression was a mix of shock, disgust, and pity. Steve felt a lump form in his throat as he realized how she must see him now, as a helpless, soiled child. He wanted to explain, to tell her it was because of the milk, but the words were stuck in his throat. He was too embarrassed and in shock to say anything. He stood there in front of the others, feeling utterly humiliated and vulnerable, his mind flooded with embarrassment. His stomach still churned from being forced to consume milk, but now embarrassment added to his discomfort. He desperately wished he could disappear, to escape from this nightmare. But trapped in this bizarre reality, there was nowhere to run, no way to hide from the humiliation. Ashley hovered nearby, her expression torn between concern for Steve and disgust at the situation. She wanted to comfort and reassure him that everything would be alright, but seeing him in a messy diaper was too much to bear. She glanced at Nick and Kelly, silently pleading for some form of understanding or support. Nick's gaze met Ashley's, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of empathy in his eyes. But before she could say anything, the mannequin returned, interrupting the tense silence with her cheerful demeanor. "Alright, little ones, that's enough dilly-dallying. Go eat your snacks." Elysia chirped, her voice bubbly as she set a high chair tray of snacks on the table next to their snacks. "I've got some yummy treats for you all to enjoy." The figure ushered them towards the table. Ashley looked at Steve sympathetically, her heart aching for him. But as they approached the table, her attention was diverted by a bottle of milk sitting next to the highchair. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god," Ashley whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of Elysia bustling around. "Steve, the milk... That's why..." Steve's eyes went wide with horror as he realized there was another bottle of milk. His stomach was still agitated from the first bottle; what would a second one do to his stomach and bowels? The thought of drinking it now, in his current state, filled him with dread and disgust. Especially with others around. He couldn't, not again. But before he could do anything, Elysia approached him with the bottle, her smile bright and cheerful. "Here you go, little one," she said, her voice sweet yet tinged with authority. "A nice bottle of milk to help keep you hydrated. Isn't that nice?" Steve's stomach churned with unease as he stared at the bottle, his mind racing with fear. He wanted to refuse, to push it away, or at least tell them he couldn't drink milk. But the fear of what would happen if he was difficult for them kept him frozen. Until his brain finally kicked back in. Desperate for escape, Steve made a sudden dash towards the door, his heart pounding with adrenaline. But before he could reach it, a hand shot out, catching him by the arm with surprising strength. "Uh-uh, little one," Elysia scolded, her voice firm yet gentle. "You know you're not allowed to wander off by yourself. It's not safe. Besides, we need to make your tummy feel better. You need to stay hydrated and drink as much as possible." Steve's heart sank as he realized his escape attempt had failed. He hung his head in defeat as it led him to the highchair, her grip firm. As Steve felt guided towards the highchair, panic surged through his veins. He couldn't bear the thought of being strapped into that humiliating contraption, especially with his messy diaper weighing him down, feeling it slightly sway with each step. His mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape, but the figure's hold on him was unyielding. "No, no, please!" Steve pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and humiliation. He tried to pry its fingers from his arm with his free hand. "I-I don't want to go in there. Please, let me go!" But Elysia remained unmoved; its expression was that of a smiling, authoritative parent dealing with an unruly child. She gently guided Steve towards the highchair, her grip firm. Steve struggled against her grasp, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought against the inevitable. Ashley rushed to Steve's side, her hands reaching out to try and pull him away from Elysia. "Let him go!" she demanded, her voice filled with determination. "He can't handle lactose. It will only make him sick!" Ashley's attempt to intervene was met with a sudden and chilling presence. The darker mannequin appeared, her tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. Her eyes glinted with a malevolent gleam as she surveyed the scene, her presence enough to send a shiver down Ashley's spine. "What's going on here?" Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a wave of fear through the group. Everyone quickly averted their gaze from Nyxara's chilling presence, and a tense silence settled over the room. Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the scene unfold, her hands trembling with fear. She knew they were at the mercy of these supernatural entities, and any attempt to defy them could have dire consequences. With a subtle yet commanding gesture from Nyxara, Elysia resumed her task of setting Steve up in the high chair. Steve's heart sank as he was scooped up, realizing there was no escaping his humiliating fate. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as Elysia's firm hold guided him toward the highchair. As he was set in the highchair, he couldn't suppress a whimper of humiliation. The squishy mess in his diaper shifted and spread, the warmth and wetness pressing against him from all sides. He could feel the mess oozing and squelching in ways he never thought possible, air bubbles escaping out the back and sending a sickening sensation down his spine. The smell of his own mess filled the air, a nauseating reminder of his humiliating predicament. Steve's cheeks burned with shame as he realized the others could smell it too, their expressions filled with disgust. He wanted to disappear, to escape from this nightmare of being trapped in a messy diaper in front of his girlfriend and strangers. But as Elysia secured the straps of the highchair around him, Steve knew there was no escape. He was completely at the mercy of these entities, powerless to resist their commands. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hung his head in defeat, the weight of his humiliation crushing down on him like a ton of bricks. Meanwhile, Ashley watched helplessly from the sidelines, her heart breaking for Steve. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to reassure him that everything would be alright, but she knew there was nothing she could do. They were all trapped in this bizarre reality, subject to the whims of these otherworldly beings. Steve's heart pounded with fear and desperation as Elysia approached with the bottle. He couldn't bear the thought of drinking the milk, not after what happened last time. With a surge of panic, he reached out to knock the bottle from Elysia's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. The room fell silent as the bottle rolled across the floor, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere. Steve's heart raced as he braced himself for the repercussions of his actions. He expected Elysia to scold him, to punish him for his defiance. But what happened next caught him completely off guard. A chill swept through the room as Nyxara's imposing figure stepped forward, her eyes narrowed with a menacing glare. Steve shrank back in his seat, his heart pounding with fear as he met her gaze. He knew he had crossed a line. "Elysia," Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a shiver down Steve's spine. "It seems our little friend here needs a lesson in obedience." Elysia nodded obediently, her expression shifting from sympathy to determination. She reached down to retrieve the fallen bottle, her movements deliberate and purposeful. Steve's heart sank as he realized he had sealed his own fate. He had defied the rules of this twisted reality, and now he would have to pay the price. With a sense of dread, Steve watched as Elysia approached once again, the bottle held firmly in her grasp. He wanted to protest, to beg for mercy, but he knew it was futile. Elysia's smile was gone now, replaced by a stern expression as she held out the bottle to Steve. "Drink," she commanded, her voice firm yet cold. Steve hesitated, his hands trembling with fear. He knew he couldn't refuse, not with Nyxara's menacing presence looming over him. With a heavy heart, he reached out to take the bottle, his fingers closing around it with a sense of resignation. But as he brought the bottle to his lips, a wave of defiance surged through him. He couldn't let them break him, not without a fight. With a sudden burst, he threw the bottle aside once again, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Nyxara's eyes narrowed with fury as she watched the bottle clatter to the floor once more. "Enough," she growled, her voice dripping with menace. "You will drink, or you will suffer the consequences." Steve's heart raced as he met Nyxara's glare, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He knew he had pushed his luck too far, but he couldn't bring himself to submit. He refused to be treated like a helpless child, to be forced into submission by these creatures. But before he could muster a response, he felt a sudden pressure in his chest, like a weight pressing down on him from all sides. He gasped for air, his lungs burning with the effort as he struggled to breathe. Panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even scream. Nyxara's voice echoed in his mind, cold and commanding. "You will obey," she whispered, her words sending a chill down his spine. "Or you will suffer." Steve's world spun as he struggled against the invisible force holding him captive. He tried to fight back, to break free from Nyxara's control, but it was no use. He was completely at her mercy, powerless to resist her will. Nyxara claimed the bottle from the floor and forced it back into his grip. With a sense of resignation, Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to drink from the bottle, his throat burning with each swallow. He felt a surge of nausea rise up in his stomach, but he forced it down, knowing that defiance would only bring more suffering. As he drank, he felt a strange sense of detachment wash over him, like he was watching himself from a distance. He knew he was losing himself, giving in to the darkness that threatened to consume him. But he couldn't stop, couldn't fight back. He was trapped in this nightmare, powerless to escape. As the last drop of milk slid down his throat, Steve felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He slumped back in his seat, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay conscious. He knew he had lost this battle, that Nyxara had won. As darkness closed in around him, he couldn't help but wonder what other horrors awaited him in this twisted realm. Nyxara's gaze shifted to Elysia, her eyes cold and calculating. "Once the children finish with their snacks, bring Steve to me for his punishment," she commanded, her voice dripping with malice. Elysia nodded obediently, its expression devoid of emotion. She turned to Steve, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, little one," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But you must learn to listen. It's for your own good."

Hi guys! Melissa's Re-Potty Training is completed in my website: The Padded Playground. There you will find all of my finished and on-going stories, including Rebecca's Second Babyhood, Cuckolded & Diapered!, A Mother's Mistake and more. Melissa’s Re-Potty Training It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging at the mall, and twenty-one-year-old Melissa was stuck inside her nursery. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older. She sighed. By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty trained and was allowed to do more things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one. An adult. But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper? It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. Was this to be her life now? No longer an adult but a baby. Chapter 1 The Re-Potty Training Idea As Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, her heart raced with apprehension. With each step, her unease grew heavier within her chest. The once familiar surroundings now felt suffocatingly foreign, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern visage of her stepmother Helen stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval. Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life before her. And Helen was a jealous woman. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend, Dana. Sadly, Dana didn’t live with her, and she needed an ally. "There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you." Helen's presence filled the room with an air of menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat. As they sat together at the polished wooden table, the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Tea, as Helen called it, was a constant ritual at home. “How you been?” “All good.” “Hows’s job hunting treating you?” “There’s not much out there unless I want to work for KFC or something like that.” “I see. Anything else you’d like to share with me?” Melissa shook her head, thinking about one thing she didn’t want anyone to know. But her step-mother reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers, her eyes cold and calculating. “I think it's about time we addressed your... little issue." Melissa didn't know what to say. She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet herself so many times so far that it was a miracle no one had found out. "What issue?" asked Melissa with a soft and doubtful demeanor. Maybe if she played dumb she could end this awkward conversation. "Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen, "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister." "Step-sister. And it's not your house. It's my dad's." "And according to his will, it's now mine." "And mine!" There was a short moment of silence. "Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand, "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've like that. What do you think?" Melissa nodded, hesitant, though. She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. Helen leaned closer, her voice softening, "I don't want you to feel ashamed anymore. We can help you fix this." Melissa glanced down at her hands, gulping, "I don't know what to do." "Well, I was thinking. Amelia is going through potty training. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?" Melissa almost choked with her own saliva. "What do you mean potty training me? I'm an adult!" "I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers will be the only way." Melissa's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here." "True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes and my furniture and setting a terrible example for your sister." Melissa didn't really have an argument; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one. “Step-sister,” she said, “What do you mean potty training me?" “I think that part is self explanatory, right? We take you potty in a schedule until you stay dry in between potty trips. Then we decrease the frequency until you earn your big girl panties again. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go yourself. How does that sound?" "How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed, "Wet myself until we get it under control." "We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling, "Protection under your clothes." "No! I told you, no diapers." "Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear." "What's the difference?" "For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different and they are very helpful during potty training..” "I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it. "I just want to help you," said Helen, “Besides, this could be an excellent way for us to connect. You know, have that mother-daughter experience we never had.” Melissa sighed, ”When do we start?" "What about right away?" Helen wasted no time. She grabbed Melissa by the wrist, softly leading her deeper into the house. Through halls and corridors and stairs until they were in a room painted soft pink. It was Amelia’s room, and she wasn’t there. “Amelia’s playing outside. In her sandbox.” “She won’t know?” “She will. But she won’t care. She’s only three.” Helen grabbed some white underwear with the design of some Disney princess on the front. It was small, but, then again, Melissa was quite thin. Tall, yes, but thin. “Try this on,” said Helen, placing the pull-up in Melissa’s hand. It was defiantly thicker than regular underwear, and the deign was childish. But Helen was right, they didn’t look that much different from her panties. “A little privacy, please.” Helen left the room, leaving Melissa in the nursery. She carefully dropped her pants to notice her underwear was already damp. Sighing, knowing she actually needed the protection, she took her panties off and cleaned herself with some baby wipes she had close by. Finally, the moment of truth. She slid into the pull-ups, feeling the soft thickness of it against her gentle crotch. She didn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror. She rushed to get her pants on again, and when she was sure her protective underwear wasn’t visible, she left the room. Chapter 2 Potty Time Melissa sat at the dining table, staring blankly into space, while Helen prepared lunch. Each clink of the dishes sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of what was around her crotch. The pull-up wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, but it was definitely not something she liked. She had kept it dry so far, though it had not even been an hour yet. Helen entered the room carrying a tray laden with fries, nuggets, and fresh salad. She smiled gently at Melissa, something the young woman wasn’t used to. Next to the her was her younger stepsister, Amelia. At three, she looked like a mini version of Helen herself. It was obvious she was destined for popularity, unlike Melissa, and somehow, even if Amelia had always been nice to her, she always resented her. “Mel's potty training too, Mommy?" asked Amelia as she grabbed a handful of fries. "That's right, hun." Melissa tried to smile back, but it seemed forced. Helen noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll take it slow, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way." Feeling slightly more reassured, Melissa nodded. "Thanks." As they all sat down to eat, Melissa couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Helen's behavior. Helen seemed to genuinely want to help her, but she wondered why. "It's time for the potty," Helen announced once everyone was finished with the meal. Helen gave them no time to argue as she grabbed both their wrist, pulling them towards the living room, where a plastic potty awaited. "Is that really necessary?" asked Melissa in shock. "It's just part of the process. Show me you can use the plastic potty, and you can move onto the toilet. It shouldn't be difficult. Should it?" Before Melissa could continue arguing, she was interrupted by her stepmother. "Who wants to go first?!" asked Helen again with a devilish smile. Amelia raised her hand. Within minutes, the younger of the three had done her business like a professional. "I'm a big girl!" said Amelia, smiling from ear to ear, "I'll be potty trained first!" Those words weighed heavily in Melissa's mind. The little brat was as competitive as her mother. It had been cute a few years ago, but now, she was just annoying. Melissa felt her rage growing stronger, fueled by the constant tease. But she fought back against it. After all, Helen was only trying to help. And Amelia needed the encouragement. "Yes, you are," said Helen, "But I think Melissa will surprise us too, right Mel?" Melissa nodded. Despite her frustration, she decided to give it a try. If nothing else, she owed it to Helen since she helped her when nobody else did. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself onto the seat of the tiny plastic potty. In contrast to Amelia's confident demeanor, Melissa felt vulnerable and exposed. However, knowing that she must prove her mettle, she closed her eyes and focused on relaxing her muscles. But nothing. A minute passed. And then another. She pushed harder. Nothing. She pushed again, and a loud fart echoed in the room. Melissa blushed as her stepmother and stepsister giggled. One more minute passed. Another. And nothing. "Alright," said Helen, "I don't think it's going to happen." "No, wait!" said Melissa, pushing harder now, "I can do this." "Honey, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you push that hard. It's okay. You didn't make it this time. Let's just try again later." "I made it in the potty, Mommy. I'm winning!" said Amelia, happy as just a kid could be. But as Melissa pulled her pull-up and pants back up, she couldn't help but feel pathetic and like a failure. She was and adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee. "You'll make it next time. It's okay. It's the first time you've tried. I'm sure you'll make it," said Helen, and for the first time since Melissa met her, she actually felt as if her stepmother cared about her. Perhaps this potty-training idea wasn't that bad after all. With her first time on the potty a failure, Melissa had nothing left to do but wait. She was to call for Helen's help if she felt the need to go, but the thought of having to ask for help to pee was too embarrassing to even consider. She was a big girl. She could make it to the toilet without any help. And so she waited. "Potty time," said Helen an hour later as Melissa worked on her resume. It wasn't looking that good, but she wasn't twenty-one yet, and she needed the money if she wanted to go out that summer with her friends. "One minute," said Melissa, staring at a blank page. Maybe tomorrow, she could try again. It's not as if she was in dire need to get a job. If only being an adult wasn't that difficult. She stood up and went straight to the living, where Helen and Amelia were waiting beside the plastic potty. "Your sister's dry," said Helen, "What do we say?" "Congrats," said Melissa, pretending to care enough to form a smile. Helen approached Melissa with a gentle demeanor, almost motherly, "Now, let's check our big girl." "What are you...?!" Helen's finger found their way to the elastic band of Melissa's pull-up. The young adult blushed, trying to get away but failing. "My dear," said Helen, removing her fingers from Melissa's crotch, "You're wet. "What? No. I'm not!" Melissa rushed her hand to her padded crotch only to notice it was bigger and warmer and obviously full of urine. It couldn't be. She didn't feel it. She was a big girl. She should be able to make it to the potty. Her eyes turned watery, and her knees began shaking. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting back the tears. Helen embraced her with no hesitation. A warm embrace. The sort of touch only a mother could provide during times of distress, and for a second, Melissa felt less of a failure. "It's okay, honey," Helen said, patting her back carefully, "That's what your pull-ups are for. You'll make it next time." It sounded familiar – like some of those truisms parents tell children to encourage them. As much as she despised admitting it, her stepmother's kind words did help. Perhaps Helen was right. She might very well make it next time. It was just one accident. She would make it to the potty next time. There was no way she would lose the race for potty training against her younger stepsister. But for the entire week, Amelia outperformed her. “I’m a big girl!” She would sing as she made it to the potty. Meanwhile, Melissa sat there and nothing would come out. As if her body was actively working against her. Every day she would have to use three pull-ups or more while her younger step-sister was about to graduate to big girl panties. “Maybe we started you too early,” said Helen as she checked Melissa’s underwear, “It doesn’t seem you’re making any progress. If anything, it looks like you’re regressing.” Melissa blushed at her words. “We’ll keep trying tomorrow. But we might need a different approach if things keep going this way.” Melissa said nothing as she got ready for bed that night. Now alone in her room, her thoughts were flooded with the idea of failing her second potty-training. What would she say to Dana? She had been avoiding her best friend all week in hopes she could get her accidents under control. Melissa sighed, closing her eyes, hoping the next day would be better. However, when she woke up, she noticed something new as she moved in her bed. The padding between her legs was heavier and colder.

Cover Art by Flashy Flesh Chapter One “Congratulations–I couldn’t be happier for you.” Michelle’s promise was true, even as she hid a wash of emotions behind a smile, hoping that the cheer of the party would hide her jealousy. Candice deserved this as much as anyone, and Michelle wouldn’t spoil things for her friend even if the whole situation made her burn with envy. Candice didn’t seem to notice any of the mixed feelings. The gifts in Michelle’s hands distracted her; while they were the same size, one box was wrapped in bright, colored paper, decorated with teddies and balloons, while the other was plain, tasteful, and held shut with only a black ribbon. It was the custom for Little Showers: One gift for the caregiver, the other for the newly Little. “Thank you,” Candice replied, tucking her Little’s gift under one shoulder while she pulled at the ribbon on her own parcel. “I just can’t believe it–I’d just started looking for my own Little, and the perfect boy just about fell in my lap!” “I’m so happy for you.” Michelle’s words came through tight lips–she’d wanted one for years, but nothing had worked. Personal ads got nothing, Mommy & Daddy sites only got her messages from people assuming she was Little, and good luck spells seemed only to impact those around her, never her. Three of her friends had ended up as caregivers–two of them were even at the party, sipping wine next to the refreshment table while their Littles played patty-cake in the corner. Opening the gift, Candice’s smile grew–it was a digital display encased in purple plastic, speaker and microphone built into the base. “A baby monitor!” “The camera is in your Little’s box,” Michelle explained, nodding to the other gift. “Just because he used to be grown up doesn’t mean he won’t need supervision, after all.” “Oh, don’t I know it! It seems like I can hardly turn my back without my little Sammy getting into trouble–you’d think all he knows how to do is rub his diapers,” Candice laughed, and a few others within earshot joined in the good-natured chuckling. “Or, well–rub them and fill them, of course.” As though on cue, the star of the party waddled into the room–slim and almost a foot taller than his new Mommy, Sam Franklin–that is, ‘Sammy’, now that he’d been adopted–looked positively adorable. A wet diaper sagged between his thighs, evidence of his recently-revoked potty train, and his T-shirt had a print of ‘Mommy’s Little Dump Truck’ on it, with a cartoon excavator below the letters. It was bad form to ask what’d regressed him, but given his slight glower, Michelle guessed it hadn’t been by choice. Then again, maybe he was just cranky because he needed a change. “Candice,” he mumbled. “Can I–” “Mommy,” Candice corrected. “You know that, silly boy.” “Mommy,” he said, nodding quickly. “Can I please just have a change?” The new mommy beamed, and Sammy realized his mistake too late when she said, “Of course, sweetie! Just lie down, okay?” “But–” Sammy began, eyes widening as he took in the number of guests. At least they weren’t friends of his, none of them had known Sammy when he’d been grown-up. “I–” “You wanted a change,” Candice repeated. “So lie down.” (Definitely not by choice,) Michelle thought, her jealousy tempered as she watched it. This wasn’t what she wanted–a brat who’d argue, an involuntary Little who’d ended up that way by manipulation or magic or legal mandate. She wanted someone who’d accept her care. Part of her struggles with acquiring her own Little had come from her pickiness, wanting someone who’d fit her just right. If she simply put together a hex jar to sap away some unfortunate guy’s potty training and autonomy, then swooped in to adopt him, he’d resent her forever. She wanted a boy who’d depend on her, and who’d thank her for the care she gave. A toy she could play with, certainly, someone she could show off to her friends, but if she had to argue with him, if he refused her instructions out of a misplaced sense of maturity, that’d spoil the fun. So, while Candice forced Sammy to lay down and made a show of changing his diaper in front of everyone, Michelle sank back, debating whether she could leave the Little Shower early without it being a faux pas. She wasn’t the only one standing back. The other Littles had turned to watch the show, giggling as Sammy fussed, but a young Daddy seemed almost as uncomfortable as Michelle felt. His own Little girl was clearly pleased with her lot–she didn’t cry or fuss except when she lost her favorite pacifier–and Michelle guessed he wasn’t thrilled about seeing a Little in distress. Aside from him, only one other person was standing back–a young man with a bit of stubble and a rounded-off build. Physical features aside, he caught her attention for one reason: He had a thumb in his mouth. It was only for a moment. He wasn’t sucking his thumb, Michelle realized, waving it off as a bit of wishful thinking that’d caused her to hallucinate what she’d wanted to see–he’d just had his thumb near his lips. A second later, though, her wishes were reignited as she caught him running the finger over his paper plate, picking up all the last remnants of frosting before sticking his thumb right back in his mouth, licking the sweet leftovers clean. That gave Michelle an idea. A wonderful idea. She didn’t need to find a Little, and she didn’t need to hex someone to be against his nature. All she needed was to find the right boy, and give him the right push. Walking up to the stranger, she opened her posture to him–not saying hello, waiting for him to greet her. The guy wiped his thumb off on a napkin, smiling at her. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, offering his dubiously-clean hand to shake. “I’m Jamie.” “It’s nice to meet you, Jamie,” Michelle replied, sizing him up. He had brown hair that fell in subtle curls around his shoulders–probably going for a subtle ‘punk’ or ‘alternative’ look to match his leather jacket, but she saw the seed of adorable pigtails, or perhaps braids. His eyes were brown puddles, full of emotion and curiosity, the kind she’d expect from a poet or perhaps an explorative baby. “How do you know Candice?” “Coworkers,” he explained, giving an obvious glance back at the snack table as he considered another slice of cake. “We’re both in sales.” “Sales, hmm?” Michelle asked, moving to cut a slice and slide it onto his plate, curious how he’d react to being served. “You must be pretty persuasive, hmm?” He didn’t even seem to notice, accepting her un-asked-for help with nothing except a smile at the sudden presence of cake. “You could say that.” He was perfect. “Well–oh, hold on,” Michelle started, reaching out, brushing the side of his jacket and pinching a hair between her fingers as she did. “You had frosting on your jacket, I didn’t want it to ruin the leather.” “Oh, it’s faux-leather,” Jamie replied with a shrug. “But…thanks.” “You’re welcome,” she replied, pretending to reach for her phone to check the time while actually tucking the long strain of brown hair away so she couldn’t lose it. Tilting his head, he asked, “What were you saying before? About being persuasive?” “Oh, yes.” Michelle gave him a sultry smile. She had the plan, now she just needed the man. “Do you think you could persuade a girl to give you her phone number?” ... Hey there! I'm trying out a new name - I'm keeping around 'Peculiar Changeling' as my screen name most places, but I want to run with 'Penn Canon' as the thing I put on my books and sign my work with and stuff! It just feels nicer as a Name, y'know? Anyway, I hope you like this story - it's ten chapters, and it's completely written, so I'll be releasing it publicly over the next couple weeks. Expect a chapter every day or two. If you want to support my writing, a couple bucks a month can really go a long way - and I offer a bunch of stories in early and exclusive access, plus discounts on commissions (like this one)! -Penn https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling Written as a commission