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Hello and happy new year to all. I was playing a bit with ChatGPT and let it write a story for me. It is completely written by the AI, with just a not so long prompt. But it got kind of big. I thought some people might enjoy the story. It has minor AI related inconsistencies, but I think it's still a good read. So just have fun! Edit: I let it write a kind of similar story, but still kind of different plot. I really don't know if anyone even cares for that stories, but I wanted another, so if anyone wants to read it, it's here. Since I don't want to take away the audience from real writers with real talents, I just added the second story here and didn't create a new topic. Meredith's Control Chapter One: A Curious Arrangement Leon tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, standing on his tiptoes in front of the bathroom mirror, straining just to catch his reflection. His girlfriend, Meredith, was out in the living room, busily typing away at her laptop. She always had some major project at work: big team meetings, presentations for important clients, constant video conferences. Yet, she somehow always found time to keep a very close eye on him. He tried to flatten his hair, which always seemed to puff up on top of his head in a boyish swirl. At just around four feet seven inches tall, Leon had a slender, childlike build despite being eighteen years old. When Meredith—who stood at a majestic six foot one—first noticed him at a local coffee shop a few months ago, he was enamored by her confidence, her sultry laugh, and her commanding presence. Their relationship moved quickly. Too quickly for some. But for Leon, nothing could compare to the sense of protection and enthrallment he felt around her. In truth, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Meredith’s control over him stretched into the smallest corners of his day: from what he wore and how he styled his hair, to even how he used the bathroom. She managed every routine, every decision. While he sometimes complained, he also found himself secretly liking the structure. It made him feel cared for, oddly comforted. He felt guilty for resisting her, even when he found her rules embarrassing. Leon could hear the rattle of keys in the living room as Meredith shut her laptop. It was probably time to go through the day’s itinerary—a list she insisted on reviewing with him every morning. Leon sighed. He was still wearing pajamas because she had specifically told him not to get dressed by himself that day. Apparently, she had something “special” lined up for him. Slinking out of the bathroom, he walked into the living room, noticing how the top of his head barely reached the bottom of Meredith’s chest. She looked up at him, one eyebrow arched. “You’re late,” she stated in a clipped tone, tapping the face of her silver watch. “I was just—” he began, but her expression silenced him. “I already told you: no excuses. Today is a busy day for me, and I can’t have you making us run behind. Now come here.” She patted the seat of the couch next to her. Her voice carried such authority that he instantly felt a pang of guilt. He obeyed, sitting down. His tiny form sank into the cushion, emphasizing how small he was compared to her. Gently, she rested a large hand on his thigh, letting him know she wasn’t angry—just strict. Their eyes met, and there was a softness beneath her stern facade. “I have to go to the office for some time, but I’ll be back before dinner,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ll stay here. I’ve laid out clothes for you in the bedroom. You’re not to leave the apartment until I get back. Is that clear?” Leon nodded. “Yes, Meredith.” He could feel an odd mix of relief and apprehension. She was going out, but his instructions were so rigid. It felt a little lonely, spending hours in the apartment by himself with such restrictions—especially since he needed permission for almost everything. “Also…” She paused, studying his face. “Have you gone potty yet this morning?” Leon’s cheeks flushed. That question was always mortifying, though he had grown somewhat used to it. Meredith demanded to know about every trip to the bathroom. “Yes,” he mumbled, “right when I woke up.” “Good.” She turned back to her phone, tapping at some notifications. “Remember: no more breaks until lunchtime. If you have to go, wait for me to come home. I don’t want to find out you disobeyed me.” Her instructions were specific and strict. He’d been told only to use the bathroom at set times, always with her permission. Yesterday, he nearly had an accident holding it until she got back from a grocery run. As embarrassing as it felt to beg for the toilet, it was even more humiliating to lose control. But Meredith liked it that way—and, if he was honest, a small part of him thrilled at the notion of surrender. “All right,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper. Meredith patted his thigh one last time before she stood up, towering over him. She bent slightly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Be good. Don’t get into trouble.” Leon felt goosebumps on his arms. “I promise I’ll be good.” She flashed him a knowing grin, then picked up her handbag and left, locking the door behind her with a decisive click. Leon stared at the door for several moments. The apartment, though cozy, suddenly felt huge without her presence. His instructions were clear: get dressed in the clothes she chose, don’t leave the apartment, and most importantly—no bathroom breaks until lunch, when she planned to return. He exhaled. This was his life now. Part of him wanted to rebel, to say that enough was enough. But part of him loved her so much that he convinced himself he needed this, needed her. And so, with a subdued swirl of excitement and anxiety, Leon walked to the bedroom to see what she had laid out for him. Chapter Two: A Childish Wardrobe When Leon opened the bedroom door, his cheeks immediately reddened. Spread across the bed was an outfit he would have never chosen for himself: a pair of powder-blue shortalls, complete with little silver snaps running down the sides, and a plain white t-shirt to go underneath. Next to it lay ankle socks with tiny cartoon puppies stitched into the cuffs. At the foot of the bed sat bright white Velcro sneakers—another childlike touch. He inhaled a shaky breath. This was far from the most juvenile outfit Meredith had ever selected, but it still made him feel about ten years old rather than eighteen. Even if he wanted to choose something else, he knew he was not allowed. From the first week he moved in, Meredith had insisted on taking over all dressing responsibilities, often physically clothing him herself. This morning, however, she’d made an exception by laying out the outfit in advance—probably because she was in a hurry. Leon glanced at the time on his phone: 8:42 AM. He had a while before lunch, and already he could feel an uncomfortable tightness in his bladder. He’d used the bathroom upon waking up, but the morning coffee he’d had earlier was catching up to him. He swallowed hard. Meredith had said no more potty visits until she came back at noon. He tried to ignore the discomfort, telling himself she’d only be gone a few hours. With a resigned sigh, he plucked the T-shirt off the bed. He peeled off his pajama top, then slipped the T-shirt on. Finally, he lifted the shortalls and stepped into them, struggling to pull the straps over his shoulders until he heard the tiny snaps click. They fit snugly, cupping his narrow hips and accentuating how slender he was. The Velcro shoes went on last. He looked at himself in the standing mirror and cringed. The shortalls ended high on his thighs, making him look about as intimidating as a toddler. He could feel his heart pounding as he went back into the living room, half-expecting someone to be standing there laughing at him. But of course, the apartment was empty. He sank down on the sofa, turning on the TV. Maybe he could distract himself with some cartoons or a movie. He was too nervous to watch the news or a serious program. Subconsciously, he gravitated toward more childish things—something that matched how Meredith dressed him. He flicked through streaming channels until he found an old animated movie from his childhood. While it played, his mind kept drifting to the subtle pressure below his abdomen. It had been only a few weeks of abiding by her “no bathroom without permission” rule, but it was long enough that his body felt confused, uncertain when relief was actually allowed. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The anxiety made him want to push the feeling away, yet focusing on it seemed inevitable. Time ticked by painfully slowly: 9:00… 9:15… 9:30… By 10:00, Leon was shifting in his seat, crossing his legs, and trying to stay calm. He was determined not to break the rules—he never wanted to face Meredith’s anger or disappointment. But if she didn’t come home in time… He shook his head. She said noon. You can hold it until noon, he told himself. He’d done it before. He’d do it again. Memories of the last time he disobeyed raced through his mind. About a week ago, she’d caught him sneaking off to the bathroom while she was out. He was wearing a childish onesie she had chosen, and the second she returned, he’d practically run past her toward the toilet. She noticed the onesie was unbuttoned. He’d undone it on his own. She was upset, not screaming or raging, but cold and disappointed. That, to him, was worse than any punishment. So he’d do what she wanted: hold it. By 11:15, he was practically shaking. He paced around the living room, turning the TV off because he couldn’t focus. The pressure was building painfully, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last. Finally, at 11:45, he heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Meredith stepped in, the faint smell of crisp autumn air swirling around her. She closed the door, set her purse down, and immediately looked at him with curiosity. “Hello, sweetie. How was your morning?” Leon let out a trembling breath. “It’s been okay. I… I’m glad you’re home.” She slipped off her jacket, revealing a form-fitting blouse and a knee-length skirt. She looked immaculate, her tall silhouette making him feel ridiculously small. “Did you follow the rules?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Leon nodded vigorously. “Yes. I haven’t gone to the bathroom since you left, and—Meredith, please, can I—?” She shrugged, setting her handbag on the counter. “Let me think about it.” A slow, playful grin slid across her face. Leon felt heat rise to his cheeks. He crossed his legs again, pressing them together. “Please,” he repeated, bouncing slightly in place. “Come with me to the bathroom,” she said quietly. He exhaled in relief and trailed behind her. The moment they reached the bathroom door, she turned around, blocking his entrance with an arm. “You waited, right?” “Yes,” he rasped. “Good boy.” She unfastened the shortall straps and helped him wriggle out of the garment, leaving him standing there in just his T-shirt, socks, and shoes. “All right, you may go.” She gave him a light nudge inside, standing in the doorway as if monitoring him. Usually, she supervised his toilet visits to make sure he wasn’t disobeying any hidden rules. He quickly tried to focus, lifting the seat and finally letting go. Relief flooded him, but his cheeks were bright red knowing she was right there, watching. Yet this was their arrangement—something he had grown used to, in his own shy way. When he finished, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper of relief. Meredith smiled, nodding with approval. “You did well. I see no accidents,” she remarked, scanning the front of his T-shirt. Leon’s heart still pounded with the aftershock of nearly losing control. “No,” he managed to say. “No accidents.” “Good,” she repeated, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you for holding it in.” His insides fluttered at the praise. He always craved her approval. Despite the embarrassment, the rules, the slight fear, there was a warm satisfaction that came from pleasing her. “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the bathroom. “Time for lunch. Then we’ll talk about the rest of the day.” Chapter Three: The Strict Afternoon After lunch—sandwiches she prepared while he stood on a stool at the counter, helping slice tomatoes—Meredith announced she’d be working from home the remainder of the day. She had a stack of documents to handle. Leon hovered in the kitchen, uncertain what she expected of him next. She noticed his anxious glance and beckoned him closer. “It’s going to be a long work session. I need to focus,” she said. “I’ll be in the study. You can watch TV or do something quiet in the living room. But no phone calls and no computer games without permission.” Leon nodded, fiddling with the hem of his shortalls. “Okay,” he murmured. “Do I have to do anything… else?” She tilted her head. “You mean chores?” He shrugged. “Chores, or errands, or something.” “I think you can handle cleaning your room,” she said. “I’ll inspect it later. And you are to ask me if you need to use the potty, understood?” He swallowed. “Yes, Meredith.” “All right. Off you go. And remember, I’ll be checking on you.” With that, she swept away into the study, closing the door behind her. Leon glanced at the clock: 12:40 PM. The next scheduled bathroom break was usually around mid-afternoon—unless he asked for special permission, which she sometimes granted, sometimes didn’t. He made his way to the bedroom to tidy up the bedclothes. After that, he dusted and vacuumed a little, determined to impress her by staying productive. As the minutes passed, he periodically glanced at the closed study door, tempted to peek his head in and see if she wanted coffee or something. But he dreaded disturbing her. She hated interruptions when she was concentrating. Eventually, Leon returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. The cartoon from earlier was still paused. He pressed play, letting the colorful images fill the screen. But he found it hard to relax. There was a growing sense of tension, deep down in his bladder again. Maybe that second glass of water at lunch was a bad idea. He tried to focus on the cartoon’s cheerful scenes—singing characters, bright backdrops, comedic moments. Time crawled: 1:00… 1:15… 1:30… By 2:00, the pressure was noticeable. Leon bit his lip, glancing at the study door again. Should he ask? Meredith might see it as a sign of weakness or defiance if he kept interrupting her schedule. But the alternative was risking an accident. He rummaged through the coffee table’s drawers to distract himself, coming across old board games and puzzle books. He found a half-completed crossword puzzle from weeks ago, the squares filled in by Meredith’s neat penmanship. He sighed, trying to pass the time, but the throbbing need in his abdomen kept gnawing at his thoughts. Finally, at 2:15, he couldn’t take it anymore. He padded softly over to the study door, raising his fist to knock. He hesitated, heart pounding. She was probably on a call. But if he waited any longer, something worse could happen. Summoning courage, he gave a gentle knock. “Who is it?” came her curt voice. “It’s me,” Leon answered timidly. “I… um… I need to ask you something.” “Come in.” He eased the door open. Meredith sat behind a large wooden desk, papers scattered around a laptop. She looked up, removing her glasses. “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a low whisper, “but I really need to use the restroom.” Her lips formed a thin line. “Is it that urgent?” Leon shifted on his feet, nodding. “Kind of. I’ve been trying to hold it for a while.” Meredith let out a slow exhale, then glanced at the clock on her computer. “We were going to do that at three o’clock. But you are asking nicely…” He clasped his hands in front of him, trying to stand as still as possible. “Please, Meredith?” She pondered for a moment. “All right. But I’m going to watch, to make sure everything’s done properly. And no fussing.” His eyes widened, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Standing up from her chair, she followed him to the bathroom. This time, she didn’t bother to unfasten his shortalls. Instead, she did it for him, as always—though with an air of slight annoyance. “Arms up,” she said, guiding the straps down. Leon turned away from her, aiming to close the door, but she stepped inside too. She always came in with him, but this time the closeness felt more imposing. “Hurry up,” she commanded. Leon’s face was practically on fire with embarrassment, but the need to relieve himself overcame his self-consciousness. He managed to get everything positioned and released. A soft gasp of relief escaped his lips. Meredith observed him carefully. When he was done, she helped him secure his shortalls back into place, snapping the straps. Then she turned on the sink faucet and waited while he washed his hands under her watchful gaze. “I won’t always let you do this,” she said softly. “I have rules for a reason. It’s important you learn how to follow them.” Leon nodded, shoulders slumping. He felt like a child receiving a reprimand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just really couldn’t wait.” She gently ruffled his hair. “Shh. It’s all right. Let’s get you back to your day.” And just like that, she returned to her study, leaving him alone in the hallway with the odd, lingering mix of relief and lingering shame. Chapter Four: Footed Sleeper Evenings Late afternoon arrived without further incident. Leon busied himself around the apartment, occasionally hearing Meredith’s voice from the study. She sounded professional and confident, reminding him of just how impressive she was in her career—and, in turn, how small he felt next to her in every regard. By the time 6:30 PM rolled around, Meredith emerged from the study, stretching her arms overhead. Her sharp gaze swept over the living room and kitchen. “Looks clean,” she commented, nodding at Leon. “Good job.” He felt a small glow of pride at her words. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you finish everything?” “Mostly,” she replied with a sigh. “I still have a bit more to do after dinner. How about you start setting the table while I check something in the bedroom?” Leon hopped up to obey, walking to the kitchen cabinets to gather plates and cutlery. He arranged them neatly, making sure everything was symmetrical—knowing she appreciated order. He placed two glasses and a set of napkins in perfect alignment, then set out the salt and pepper. Satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work. He glanced toward the bedroom, wondering what Meredith was up to. She was probably laying out his pajamas. That’s how every evening went: after dinner, she would dress him in some form of childlike sleepwear—often footed sleepers, sometimes with childish prints. If he was especially fidgety or whiny, she’d zip it in the back, removing his ability to unzip it himself. Some nights, she put on mittens, ensuring he couldn’t fiddle with the zipper. Part of him squirmed at the thought, but another part thrummed with excitement. Despite the occasional embarrassment, he found a peculiar comfort in the ritual of being tucked into bed by her. He relished the warmth of her presence, the bubble of security she created around him. She emerged a few minutes later, a sly smile on her face. “Dinner time,” she announced. “Let’s eat.” Dinner consisted of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a small portion of rice. Leon ate quietly, occasionally meeting Meredith’s eyes. She asked him about his day, praising him for keeping busy without fussing too much. He felt an uptick of pride at her approval. However, halfway through the meal, she cleared her throat. “I noticed something when I laid out your sleeper,” she began, fixing him with a steady look. “Some of your underwear had faint stains. Care to explain?” Leon nearly choked on his chicken. He stared at her, face burning. “I… I—It’s just… from earlier,” he stammered. “I was holding it for so long, I guess maybe I leaked a little?” She narrowed her eyes. “So you had a little accident?” He stared at his plate, nodding miserably. “Y-yes, but just a tiny bit, I swear.” Meredith set her fork down. “Hmm. That’s unfortunate. After all the trust I gave you to wait until lunch, then again this afternoon. You said you managed, but apparently, you leaked enough to stain your underwear.” Leon gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. It wasn’t a full accident. Just a little leak.” “Regardless,” she said, her voice cool, “it shows you’re not fully in control.” His eyes pricked with tears. “Please don’t be mad.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not angry, Leon. But I’m disappointed that you’re struggling with such a simple rule. If waiting is causing you accidents, perhaps we need a more secure solution.” Her words sent a chill through him. “Wh-what do you mean?” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Let’s finish dinner, and we’ll discuss it when we get you ready for bed.” Leon nodded, his appetite diminishing. He forced the rest of his vegetables down in silence, mind spinning with worry and humiliation. He had a feeling he knew what she meant by a ‘more secure solution.’ Chapter Five: An Unexpected Development After dinner, Meredith tasked Leon with loading the dishwasher. He did so mechanically, hands slightly shaking. He couldn’t stop thinking about her cryptic mention of a “secure solution.” Could she mean what he thought she did? She disappeared back into the bedroom. By the time he finished in the kitchen, she called his name. “Leon,” she said, standing in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. “Come here.” He approached hesitantly, heart hammering. She guided him inside, where the lamp on the nightstand cast a warm glow across the bed. Laid out on the duvet was a footed sleeper, a soft pastel-green color with a subtle pattern of tiny stars. Its zipper ran up the front, but a small padlock mechanism was threaded through the zipper pull. Next to it on the bed was a folded, puffy item. Leon’s stomach dropped. It was a diaper—a large, adult-sized diaper with cartoonish designs across the padding. He stared, speechless. His mind reeled. Sure, Meredith had teased about diapers before, mostly in a half-joking manner when he slipped up or whined too much. But he never thought she’d actually follow through. They were both adults, after all. Even if she treated him as if he were younger, diapers still felt like an extreme step. “I… I…” he started, but no words came out. Meredith cocked her head, her tall frame radiating authority. “These are for nights when you can’t maintain control,” she said calmly. “You’ve proven that you sometimes have accidents while trying to follow the rules. I don’t want you ruining your underwear or the sheets.” Leon’s face burned. “B-but… I—” She held up a hand. “Shh. We’re trying this tonight. Hopefully, it will teach you to be more mindful of your potty breaks when they’re scheduled. If you truly have no accidents, maybe we won’t need these. But for now…” She motioned to the diaper. “Take off your clothes.” He hesitated, a thick lump in his throat, but he knew better than to argue. He undid the shortalls and let them pool at his feet, then peeled off the T-shirt. Meredith patted the bed. “Lie down,” she instructed. Trying not to cry from humiliation, Leon sank onto the mattress, his small frame dwarfed by the plush bed. Meredith picked up the diaper, opening it with a loud crinkle. She maneuvered it under him, adjusting it carefully, then folded it up between his legs. The padding was thick, soft, and unmistakably babyish. Velcro tapes fastened at the sides. She smoothed the tapes, making sure it was snug around his waist. Leon swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. The sensation of the diaper hugging his lower half was strange and overwhelming. The thick bulk between his legs forced them apart slightly. Meredith leaned over him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. “Don’t be upset,” she cooed. “It’s just for your protection, and for my peace of mind. You might even find it comforting.” He shut his eyes, nodding wordlessly. Next, she guided his feet into the footed sleeper, pulling it up his body. Once his arms were inside, she zipped it up, locking the zipper with a small padlock near the neck. There would be no unzipping this without her key. Leon shivered, suddenly aware he was completely at her mercy. He could feel the diaper pressing against him, a constant reminder of his humiliation. Yet a small, secret part of him felt a twinge of guilty relief. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about leaking if he had to hold it too long… Meredith helped him off the bed, turning him to face the dresser mirror. “Look at that,” she said softly. “It fits you well, doesn’t it?” He caught a glimpse of himself: a short, slender young man clad in a pastel sleeper, locked, and obviously padded. It was juvenile, babyish, and undeniably humiliating. And yet, he felt a warmth coil in his chest, an odd sense of safety. Meredith leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on top of his head. “All set. Now, it’s still early, so you can stay up with me in the living room if you want to watch TV. But I don’t want you messing with that diaper. Understood?” Leon gulped. “Yes, Meredith,” he whispered. With that, she took his hand, leading him out to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. She switched on a TV show, sliding an arm around his shoulders. He rested his cheek against her side, feeling the crinkle of the diaper whenever he shifted. Her warmth enveloped him. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t deny the closeness and the comfort he felt pressed against her. They watched quietly for a while, the only sounds being occasional dialogue from the show and the subtle rustle of Leon’s diaper when he moved. Though she was being strict, Meredith also exuded a gentle tenderness. She smoothed her hand over his hair, letting him relax against her. He wondered if this was how children felt when nestled against a mother’s side—but no, that thought was too strange. He was an adult, even if everything about this arrangement suggested otherwise. After an hour or so, she clicked off the TV. “You’re probably tired. Let’s get you in bed.” Leon’s eyes fluttered. “Okay.” She led him back to the bedroom, helping him climb under the covers. The diaper’s thickness made him waddle slightly, but she made no mention of it. Once he was tucked in, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss goodnight. “Sleep well, little one,” she murmured, stroking his cheek. Leon felt a pang in his chest. Despite the embarrassment, he sensed an overpowering love for her. She had so much control, but also so much care. He closed his eyes, nodding. “Goodnight, Meredith,” he whispered. She switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The faint sound of her footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the soft rustle of his own humiliating bedtime attire. Yet despite everything, he drifted off feeling oddly comforted. Chapter Six: A Morning of Conflicting Emotions Leon awoke the next morning, squinting at the streams of daylight creeping in through the blinds. He tried to stretch, but the footed sleeper resisted his movement. The padlock at the collar was still firmly in place. Immediately, he became aware of the thick diaper around his waist. His heart pounded as he recalled last night’s humiliating bedtime routine. He shifted, feeling a slight warmth in the diaper’s padding. Dread stabbed at his chest. Had he wet himself in his sleep? He pressed his thighs together, and sure enough, the diaper felt heavier and damp. A wave of shame washed over him. He couldn’t remember when it happened. He had dozed off so deeply he never even woke up to use the bathroom. A swirl of conflicting emotions rose inside him: embarrassment, confusion, and, strangely, relief. At least the bed was dry. He heard footsteps approaching. In a moment, Meredith appeared, her tall frame filling the doorway. She smiled softly. “Good morning,” she greeted. “Sleep well?” Leon stammered, unsure how to respond. “I—I guess so.” Her gaze fell to his padded midsection. “Did you stay dry?” she asked, though the faint smirk suggested she already suspected the answer. He glanced away, cheeks aflame. “No,” he muttered. “I… had an accident.” Meredith strode over, unlocking the small padlock at his neckline with a tiny key. She slowly pulled the zipper down, revealing the sagging diaper. She pressed the padding gently, confirming it was indeed wet. Leon squirmed, face contorting with humiliation. “Well,” she said at last, “this just proves my point. You need diapers for bedtime until further notice.” Leon’s eyes stung with tears. He hated feeling so incompetent, but found himself nodding obediently. “Yes, Meredith.” “Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. She helped him out of the sleeper, rolling it aside to wash later. Then, carefully, she removed the diaper. The cool morning air brushed his skin. She took a pack of wipes from a shelf in the closet—he hadn’t noticed them before—and began gently cleaning him. He winced at the profound vulnerability of it all, but she was methodical and calm, as though caring for a dependent child. When she finished, she gave his hip a reassuring pat. “Now, go shower. I’ll find you some fresh clothes.” Leon didn’t need any more prompting. He hurried to the bathroom, stepping into the warm shower spray. As he scrubbed away the night’s shame, he let out a trembling sigh. Part of him felt humiliated beyond words, but another part felt a surprising sense of freedom in not having to worry about whether he wet the bed or not—Meredith took care of everything. Chapter Seven: Trying to Please Her After the shower, Leon found another childish outfit waiting on the bed: a bright red T-shirt with a cartoon lion on the front, and a pair of elastic-waist shorts that threatened to show the outline of any padded undergarment if he wore them. However, Meredith had not placed a diaper beside them this time. It seemed he was expected to manage on his own during the day—at least for now. He dressed quickly, then padded into the living room where Meredith was sipping coffee. She motioned for him to sit. “I’m going into the office again,” she announced. “I have some errands afterward, so I won’t be back until early evening. Think you can handle it?” Leon nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes flickered toward his shorts. “No diapers right now, but you’re still required to ask permission for the potty, remember?” A knot formed in his stomach. “B-but… you won’t be here,” he said. “How am I supposed to ask for permission?” “You’ll text me first,” Meredith said, as if it were the most obvious solution. “Wait for my response. If I approve, you can use the bathroom. Understood?” Leon swallowed hard. “Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “I mean it. If I find out you disobeyed, or if there’s any sign of accidents again, you’ll be wearing a diaper all day tomorrow as well. Clear?” A flush crept over his face. “Clear,” he replied softly. Meredith nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, I have to go. You have your instructions.” She kissed his forehead, grabbed her handbag, and left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Leon alone with his swirling thoughts once more. It was nearly 9 AM. He had to figure out how to keep himself occupied all day without leaving the apartment, and with the added stress of obtaining permission to use the bathroom via text message. He eyed the clock nervously. Typically, she gave him scheduled breaks: morning, midday, afternoon, evening. But now the dynamic was different—he had to ask every single time. Leon sighed, trying to calm the flutter in his belly. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself, rummaging around the kitchen for a small breakfast. He settled on cereal, though he couldn’t help but measure how much milk and juice he poured, terrified of needing to go too soon. Chapter Eight: Accidents, Consequences, and Confessions By lunchtime, Leon’s nerves were already shot. He’d texted Meredith around 11, asking if he could go to the bathroom. She replied after ten agonizing minutes of waiting, finally granting permission. He managed to avoid an accident that time. But around 1 PM, as he sat quietly in the living room reading a book, he felt another urge. He checked the time. Meredith had mentioned she’d be in an important meeting from 1 to 2 PM, so he hesitated. If she was in the meeting, she might not respond to texts promptly. Should he send her a message anyway and risk bothering her? Or should he hold it, hoping she’d be free soon? Eventually, he sent her a short text: “Hi, Meredith. May I please use the bathroom?” The minutes passed. No response. The minutes turned to a half-hour. Leon began to pace, sipping his water nervously, which only made things worse. By 1:40, he was practically dancing in place, pressing his thighs together. Still nothing. He sent another, more urgent text: “Please, Meredith. It’s an emergency.” At 1:50, he still hadn’t heard from her. His bladder burned, and tears pricked his eyes. He wanted desperately to follow her rule, but he was about to burst. Could he risk it? Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he used the bathroom since it was an actual emergency. But she had been so explicit. Disobeying meant guaranteed diapers the next day. Could he endure that shame again? He fidgeted, leaning against the wall, clenching every muscle he could. The world around him seemed to blur in a haze of desperation. 1:55… Leon couldn’t hold it. With a choked sob, he felt warmth flood his shorts. The liquid trickled down his legs, pooling on the floor. He froze, horrified. His cheeks burned with shame as he stood there in a puddle. He’d truly wet himself in the living room, at eighteen years old. Trembling, he grabbed paper towels, trying to mop up the evidence of his accident. He peeled off his sodden shorts and underwear, tossing them into the washing machine, desperately hoping to hide the mess before Meredith returned. But he couldn’t deny what had happened. He had broken the rule—except he hadn’t, had he? He’d tried to get permission, but she never responded. At 2:05, his phone buzzed. Meredith’s text appeared: “Yes, you can go now. Sorry for the delay.” Leon nearly burst into tears. It was too late. Chapter Nine: Love and Control Meredith arrived home around 5 PM. Leon was perched anxiously on the couch in a fresh pair of shorts, heart hammering. The moment she entered, he felt tears pricking his eyes. He needed to confess before she discovered the evidence. She set her purse down and fixed him with an expectant stare. “Well, did everything go smoothly?” Leon stood, hands shaking. “I—I tried. I texted you. Twice,” he said. “You didn’t respond until it was too late.” His voice trembled with shame. “I had an accident.” She pressed her lips together. “Where?” “In the living room,” he muttered, glancing down. “I cleaned it up right away. I’m sorry.” Meredith rubbed her temple. “Leon,” she began in a weary tone, “I gave you one simple rule. Did you try waiting or…?” He shook his head. “I did wait. I tried to hold it until you responded. But then I—I couldn’t anymore.” She sighed, stepping closer to him. He braced himself for anger, but instead, she pulled him into a loose embrace. He smelled the faint perfume in her hair. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Accidents happen when you’re forced to wait like that.” Leon buried his face against her, tears wetting her blouse. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” Meredith patted his back. “I know you tried. This arrangement might be too strict for your body to handle. Maybe I pushed you too far.” He blinked, pulling back, confused. “You… you think so?” She nodded, cupping his cheek. “Leon, I want to take care of you. I love you. But if these rules cause you distress and accidents, maybe we need to adjust them.” Leon stared up at her, feeling both relief and a pang of disappointment. As restrictive as the rules were, a part of him craved her control. “I… I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered. She kissed his forehead. “My sweet boy, you could never truly disappoint me if you’re honest with me. Let’s find a way that keeps you comfortable without accidents, all right?” He nodded, eyes stinging. “Yes, Meredith.” She smoothed down his hair. “That said, the diapers at night will continue. It’s clear you’re still having trouble staying dry. And maybe we’ll have you wear them during the day if you’re feeling uncertain. No more holding it to the point of accidents. Agreed?” A complicated mix of dread and comfort flooded him. “Agreed,” he said softly. That evening, after a light dinner and some shared relaxation time on the couch, Meredith once more led him to the bedroom. She had prepared another diaper and the familiar pastel-green sleeper, complete with the back-zip design. This time, he didn’t resist. He let her tape the diaper around his waist, welcoming the soft, bulky security. He noticed that she had sewn a small loop at the back of the sleeper’s collar, likely where she’d attach the padlock or a similar clasp. She pulled it up his body, sealing him in. Leon sighed as she locked him into the sleeper. Oddly enough, he felt relief. There would be no more frantic dashes or accidents; if it happened, at least he was protected. He laid down on the bed, exhaling the tension of the day. “Tomorrow, we can talk more about your potty schedule,” Meredith said, brushing a hand through his hair. “I still want you to ask permission, but we’ll give you a diaper if I’m away. That way, you won’t have to worry.” Leon looked up at her, a small smile ghosting his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. She returned the smile, bending low to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, little one.” Tears threatened to surface again, but they were tears of gratitude this time. “I love you too,” he choked out. Settling down under the covers, he listened to the calming sound of her breathing as she tucked him in. Despite the infantile attire, or perhaps because of it, a sense of safety blossomed in his chest. Meredith was demanding, controlling, and sometimes completely over the top—but she was also caring, nurturing, and, above all, his. Chapter Ten: Renewed Determination Despite the tension and embarrassment of Leon’s accident in Chapter Nine, the next morning dawned with a surprising sense of calm in the apartment. The living room was bathed in golden light as Leon padded out from the bedroom, diaper rustling softly beneath the pastel-green footed sleeper. He still wore the back-zip pajamas because Meredith—early to rise and already dressed in slacks and a blouse—wanted to supervise his morning routine. “Good morning,” she greeted, looking up from her laptop on the couch. “Sleep okay?” Leon nodded, cheeks flushing with the familiar bashfulness that came from being locked into his sleeper all night. “Yes,” he murmured, eyes drifting to the floor. “Thank you.” Meredith patted the cushion beside her, beckoning him to sit. The couch dipped under her weight as she scooted closer, one arm resting comfortably over his shoulders. “Let’s see how you did,” she said, reaching for the small lock at his collar. Her tone was neither cruel nor mocking—it was simply matter-of-fact, the caring severity of someone who expected to find a wet diaper. She withdrew the key from her pocket and unlocked the tab securing the zipper. The faint click sent a tremor of apprehension through Leon. Gently, she pulled the zipper down, revealing the thick, slightly damp diaper around his waist. A sigh escaped her lips—part relief, part acknowledgment. “Not too bad,” she said. “Still wet, but not soaked.” Leon rubbed his arms, noticing goosebumps from the morning chill. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically. She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize every time. We’ve talked about this. Diapers are here to help until you learn to manage. And if you can’t, well… that’s okay too. We’ll make sure you’re protected.” A swirl of conflicting emotion swept through him. He both hated and secretly welcomed the security of her strict care. Even if it made him feel smaller, something about her unwavering control comforted him. “All right,” Meredith said, gently pressing her warm palm against his upper back. “Let’s get you changed and dressed. We have errands today.” Leon exhaled a soft sigh of resignation. There was never any real choice in the matter—only the understanding that, under her guidance, he would be taken care of. She walked him to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper and a modest outfit lay waiting on the neatly made bed. This time, he noticed the diapers were in the open, lined up on a shelf—obviously a new normal. “You’ll wear this for the day,” she said, tapping the folded padding. “I have a busy schedule, and I can’t always answer your texts immediately. So, no accidents in your shorts this time.” Leon’s face burned with a mixture of shame and relief. “Yes, Meredith,” he murmured obediently. She set about changing him, wiping him down before securing the tapes snug around his hips. With practiced ease, she helped him step into a pair of casual khaki shorts and a short-sleeve polo that—thankfully—didn’t look too childish. However, as soon as he stood up, the outline of the diaper was unmistakable beneath the fabric, giving him a slight waddle. He fidgeted, unsure how to hide it. Meredith tilted his chin up with her finger. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “You’re under my protection. I won’t let anyone see more than necessary. Now, get your shoes on. We’re heading out soon.” Leon swallowed hard, nodding. A renewed determination to trust her—and to obey her strict potty rules—settled in his chest. If wearing a diaper in public was the price to avoid accidents, he would accept it. After all, he loved her. And in his own private way, he loved this nurturing dominance she provided. Chapter Eleven: An Outing of Discomfort Meredith parked the car outside a bustling shopping center, sunlight glinting off the polished vehicles in the lot. Leon sat in the passenger seat, heart thumping. He hadn’t been outside in a diaper often—usually, Meredith arranged short, discreet errands or handled them alone. Yet here they were, preparing for a full afternoon of shopping. He was diapered under his khaki shorts, his every movement producing a barely audible crinkle. Fear gnawed at him. What if someone heard? What if someone noticed the slight bulge? Meredith unfastened her seatbelt, turning toward him. “Ready?” Leon’s fingers twisted in his lap. “I—yes,” he said, voice trembling. “But—do I really have to wear this in public?” A trace of amusement danced across Meredith’s features, but she tempered it with understanding. “Yes, Leon. You know the rules. You’ve had accidents, and I can’t keep leaving you alone in the apartment every time I need to run errands. This is safer.” His cheeks burned a deep crimson. “I—I understand,” he managed. She offered a small, reassuring smile before exiting the car. Reluctantly, Leon followed, stepping onto the asphalt. The sensation of the diaper’s padding made his walk slightly bow-legged. He glanced around nervously, certain everyone would see. But the world carried on, no one giving him more than a passing glance. It was a busy weekend afternoon: couples strolling hand in hand, parents corralling rambunctious kids, elderly folks lugging grocery bags. No one seemed to notice the shy, diminutive eighteen-year-old waddling after his tall girlfriend. Meredith led him through a few stores, picking up home essentials and groceries. She maintained a calm composure, instructing him softly if she wanted help grabbing an item. Occasionally, she’d slip her arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd. Despite the unwavering sense of embarrassment, Leon felt a protective warmth emanating from her touch. Midway through their errands, as they stopped at a store to browse kitchen utensils, Leon’s eyes widened. The dull pressure in his bladder reminded him of an awkward truth: if he needed to use the bathroom, he had to ask Meredith. And given their conversation, he suspected she might make him use the diaper instead—especially in a public restroom scenario where it might be less private. Swallowing hard, he tugged lightly at her sleeve. “Meredith?” he whispered. She was examining a set of ceramic bowls but turned at his soft plea. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” “I… I have to go,” he admitted, cheeks blazing. “Number one.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Hmm. Well, we could go to the bathroom. But then I’d have to help you remove everything.” Her tone was sympathetic yet firm. “It might be easier if you just let your diaper handle it. That’s what it’s for.” Leon felt a knot twist in his stomach. Wet himself on purpose, in a public store? The thought horrified him. But she was right—unfastening and refastening a taped diaper in a public restroom stall seemed equally daunting. “Let’s finish shopping,” she said in a low voice. “If it’s urgent, use your diaper. Then I’ll change you when we get home.” Leon’s entire face felt aflame. But he couldn’t argue; she was in charge. He stayed close to her side, trying to will his bladder to remain calm. Yet within minutes, the urge intensified. Eventually, he yielded, letting go in subtle spurts, feeling warmth spread through the padding. His heart thumped—he was wetting himself in the middle of a store, next to his girlfriend. It was humiliating and strangely intimate. By the time they checked out and returned to the car, the diaper clung heavily to his skin. Meredith noticed the slight sag, her expression shifting to one of tender concern. “You okay?” she asked, voice gentle. He nodded, too humiliated to speak. As they climbed back into the car, he squirmed against the seat, the wet diaper pressing against him. Meredith placed a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezed. It was a reminder that she was proud of him for following the rules—odd though those rules might be. They drove home in silence, tension coiling in his chest. Yet beneath it all, a flutter of relief swirled: he had obeyed her. He had done what she said, and there was a strange sense of accomplishment in that submission. Maybe he was just relieved to know she’d soon change him, freeing him from the clammy discomfort. Leon stared out the window, cheeks still burning, as he braced himself for the next step: reporting his soggy diaper to Meredith like a dependent child. And, in a bittersweet twist, he realized that he no longer felt quite as anxious about it—because he trusted her. Chapter Twelve: Adjusting and Accepting When they arrived home, Meredith wasted no time ushering Leon to the bedroom. He felt her warm hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, guiding him inside. The memory of his wet diaper burned in his mind, a tangible reminder of how little control he was supposed to have. “Let’s get you changed,” she said, her voice low and calm, almost comforting. Leon perched on the edge of the bed, arms folded uncertainly. Meredith stepped into the closet, retrieving a pack of wipes and another diaper from the growing stash. The plastic packaging crinkled loudly as she pulled one out. He lifted his hips obediently, allowing her to peel down his shorts. A wave of cool air brushed his thighs, intensifying the humiliating awareness of the heavy, sagging diaper around his waist. Her expression remained calm—patient, even—like a caretaker simply doing what had to be done. “You did well,” she murmured as she undid the tapes. “I know it must have been scary.” Leon swallowed, cheeks reddening. “It was,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t like doing that in public. But… if it’s what you want—” She set the soaked diaper aside, using a gentle wipe to clean him. “It’s not about what I want,” she corrected him, though her tone hinted otherwise. “It’s about what works for us. You’re prone to accidents. I don’t want you stressed or embarrassed about sneaking off to the bathroom. A diaper solves that.” He nodded, though a twinge of confusion fluttered in his stomach. Part of him wondered if he was truly that helpless, or if her controlling nature had simply convinced him so. Yet her nurturing presence soothed away his doubts. Feeling the soft, fresh diaper taped securely around his waist brought a wave of both shame and relief. Once she finished, she handed him a pair of comfortable sweatpants. “Wear these for the rest of the day,” she said, then paused, meeting his gaze. “Leon, if you need to use the bathroom and I’m around, I’ll help you remove everything. But if you’re alone, you should use your diaper, okay? No more accidents on the floor or in your underwear.” A small nod was all he could manage. “Yes, Meredith.” Her eyes seemed to soften. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of how cooperative you’ve been.” That simple praise flooded him with an inexplicable warmth. He realized how deeply he craved her approval. Every small gesture of reassurance seemed to justify the surrender he felt, the childlike acceptance of her rules. It was disorienting, yet undeniably comforting. The rest of the evening fell into a gentle rhythm. She guided him through a few household tasks—organizing drawers, vacuuming the living room—activities that he performed in his thick, padded undergarment, constantly aware of the faint crinkle with each step. Yet by nightfall, he realized he wasn’t quite as self-conscious as before. He could move freely, even forgetting at times that a diaper was taped around his waist. And so, as bedtime approached, Meredith once again led him through the ritual: a final bathroom check under her supervision, then a fresh night diaper, followed by a whimsical footed sleeper zipped and locked at the back. She tucked him in, pressed a goodnight kiss to his forehead, and switched off the lamp. In the darkness, Leon sighed. This new sense of routine—of wearing diapers day and night—didn’t feel quite as alien as it once had. He wondered if that was a good thing, or if it simply meant he was losing pieces of his adulthood. But his mind didn’t dwell on it long. Exhaustion took him, and he drifted off, lulled by the gentle rustle of his padded underwear and the knowledge that Meredith was proud of him. Chapter Thirteen: Testing Boundaries The days rolled by in a blur of routine: breakfast together, a diaper check, dressing in youthful clothes Meredith chose, occasional errands if she needed something, and always the unwavering rule of requesting permission—or using his diaper—whenever nature called. Leon found himself settling into the pattern with surprising ease. But with familiarity came curiosity—and a streak of rebellion. One afternoon, Meredith stepped out to pick up a package from the building’s reception desk. She instructed Leon to remain in the apartment, as usual. Sinking onto the living room couch, Leon felt the snug pull of his diaper around his hips, reminding him of his constant lack of autonomy. A stray thought nudged at him. What if he tried removing the diaper himself, just to see if he could? Perhaps he’d use the toilet without waiting for her. He was an adult—eighteen, yes, and short, but perfectly capable of managing the simplest bodily functions without a caretaker’s guidance. Right? The idea bloomed into a daring impulse. Meredith wouldn’t be gone long. If he acted quickly, he could strip off the diaper, use the bathroom, and tape it back in place—she might never know, unless she checked the tapes closely. His heart pounded. Could he pull it off? With trembling hands, he stood and slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door. He stared at himself in the dresser mirror—his small frame swaddled in a childlike T-shirt and an unmistakable diaper bulge. Taking a shaky breath, he peeled down his sweatpants to reveal the tapes. He’d never removed them on his own; Meredith always did it for him. Nervous excitement thrummed in his veins. Slowly, he reached for one of the tapes, pulling it free with a soft ripping sound. He paused, listening for footsteps or voices in the hallway. Silence. Emboldened, he undid the second tape. A moment later, the diaper slid to the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in days, he felt the cool air against his bare skin. But just as he turned to head for the bathroom, he heard the distinctive jingle of keys at the front door. Panic shot through him. He scrambled, trying to lift the diaper back into place, fumbling with the tapes. His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t align them properly. “Leon?” Meredith’s voice, suddenly closer than he expected. He froze, a terrible realization sinking in: she had the keys, and the apartment door was already open. He pictured her stepping inside, noticing the bedroom door closed. Any second now, she’d be here. His eyes darted around for a place to hide. His heart hammered. The diaper was half-secured, one tape crooked, the other barely stuck to the front panel. Before he could fully fix it, the bedroom door opened. Meredith stood in the threshold, eyebrows arched. Her gaze swept over him—pants around his ankles, the diaper precariously attached, guilt shining in his eyes. He swallowed, feeling a wave of mortification so intense it made him dizzy. She took a measured step forward, an unreadable expression on her face. “Care to explain?” she asked softly, though her tone carried the weight of disappointment. Leon’s eyes stung with imminent tears. “I—I just…” His voice wavered. “I wanted to use the toilet. By myself.” Silence stretched. Then she shut the door behind her, crossing her arms. The tension in the room was palpable. “You know the rules,” she said quietly. “If you need the toilet and I’m not here, you use your diaper or wait.” He bit his lip, tears blurring his vision. “I—I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to prove I could do it on my own.” Meredith’s gaze softened slightly, though her posture remained firm. “Get on the bed,” she said, nodding toward the mattress. “Lie down.” He obeyed, shuffling awkwardly and sinking onto the comforter. She followed, kneeling beside him, methodically reattaching the diaper’s tapes. Though her movements were gentle, a current of disappointment tinged the air. “I’m not punishing you because you need help,” she explained, voice subdued. “I’m upset because you broke trust. You tried to remove the diaper behind my back instead of talking to me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just feel so… helpless sometimes.” Meredith’s expression softened further. She cupped his cheek, brushing a tear away with her thumb. “I know it can be hard. But we made an agreement. I need you to respect it.” He nodded miserably. “I will… I promise.” She helped him stand, pulling his sweatpants up over the re-secured diaper. Then, with surprising tenderness, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her tall frame. “You’ll be wearing thicker diapers for a while,” she murmured. “And I’ll check them more often. I have to be sure I can trust you.” Leon’s chest clenched. The idea of bigger, more conspicuous padding made his stomach sink. Yet he deserved it, he supposed, for breaking the rules. “I understand,” he said hoarsely, arms sliding around her waist. She held him quietly for a moment, letting the tension ebb. He felt her lips graze his temple, a soft, reassuring gesture. The conflict between frustration and comfort roiled inside him. Part of him wanted more independence; part of him felt relief that she refused to let him fend for himself. Without further discussion, she led him back to the living room, returning to their daily routine. But now a new tension lingered—an unspoken reminder that she was always in control, and that if he tried to break free, the rules would only tighten. And for reasons that baffled him, a small, conflicted part of Leon found a flicker of solace in that unwavering authority. Chapter Fourteen: Closer Under Stricter Rules The weeks following Leon’s failed act of independence were marked by intensified control. Meredith insisted on thicker diapers, even during short outings. His schedule became more rigid. Now, each morning after breakfast, she’d conduct a “diaper check” to ensure he was properly padded and that he hadn’t tampered with the tapes. Whenever she left him alone, she’d set timeframes for when he could text or call. Sometimes she’d even leave the bedroom door open so she could keep an eye on him from other parts of the apartment. At first, Leon felt smothered—his guilt over lying to her was matched only by the frustration of feeling like a child. Yet something unexpected blossomed in the midst of these stricter measures: an undeniable closeness. Each small act of nurturing drew them nearer in an odd, secret way. When Meredith changed him out of a soggy diaper with gentle reassurance, he felt loved. When she praised him for complying with his schedule, he felt proud. Their bond, once overshadowed by fear and embarrassment, grew into a new kind of intimacy. It happened late one evening, as she was zipping him into a fresh footed sleeper. He lay on the bed, arms folded, face flushed, while she carefully aligned the zipper. Once it was done, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips—a kiss that, for the first time, felt more than protective. There was a hint of passion, an adult warmth. Leon’s heart fluttered. She pulled away slowly. “I love taking care of you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky in the dim bedroom light. “Even if you test my patience sometimes.” Leon swallowed, eyes shining. “I love you,” he breathed, the admission trembling with vulnerability. “I—I really do.” She brushed a hand over his cheek, hooking a finger around the sleeper’s collar to ensure it was snug. “I know,” she replied, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “That’s why this works—because we trust each other, don’t we?” He nodded. “I’m sorry about before… trying to remove the diaper on my own. I won’t do it again.” Meredith’s smile softened. “I believe you,” she said, then locked the tiny clasp at the nape of his neck. The soft clink of metal felt final. “Now, get some rest.” With that, she flicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp. He burrowed under the covers while she settled beside him for a moment, stroking his hair as though soothing a restless child. The gentle caress lulled him into a half-doze, each breath in tandem with the quiet hiss of air conditioning. He felt a surge of affection so strong it was almost painful. Yes, her rules could be stifling. Yes, he sometimes hated feeling dependent. But she was also his haven—his protector, who willingly took on this responsibility to keep him safe and stress-free. In that sense, the diapers, the childish clothes, and the locked sleepers were all expressions of her unwavering commitment. Eventually, she stood to leave, switching off the lamp entirely. “Goodnight, little one,” she whispered, her voice floating through the darkness. Leon closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow with a soft rustle of crinkling plastic. “Goodnight,” he managed, comforted by her presence even as she slipped away. And as he drifted into sleep, he wondered if this deepening closeness was worth the cost of his dwindling autonomy. Chapter Fifteen: The Unshakable Bond Morning light found Leon stirring early, roused by a nagging pressure in his bladder. He blinked sleep from his eyes, momentarily forgetting the confines of his locked footed sleeper. As he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, the thick padding between them reminded him precisely of his predicament. For a fleeting second, panic seized him—he needed to go, and there was no easy way out. But then memory returned in a warm rush: Meredith. She would help him. He just had to call out. “Meredith?” he croaked softly, clearing his throat. “Meredith!” A moment later, the bedroom door opened, revealing her tall silhouette, hair in a loose ponytail. She flicked on the lamp, letting a soft glow illuminate her concerned face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Leon swallowed, cheeks warming. “I—uh, need the bathroom. Please.” Her gaze flickered to the locked collar of his sleeper, then down to his diaper. “Let’s see…” she murmured. She retrieved the key from the dresser and came closer. “We’ll get you out. Hold on.” He exhaled shakily as she unlocked the small metal clasp, unzipped him, and peeled open the footed pajamas. The crisp air prickled his skin. Within seconds, he was free—except for the diaper taped tightly around him. “Stand up,” she directed, guiding him gently. He pressed his thighs together, bladder now pleading for release. She plucked at the diaper’s tapes, revealing his bare hips. “All set,” she announced. Without waiting another second, Leon darted to the bathroom. This time, there was no condescending observation or requirement to text for permission—she was right there, consenting to let him go. Relief washed over him, both physically and emotionally. When he finished, Meredith stood by the sink, watching calmly. Wordlessly, she handed him a fresh diaper, indicating he should rejoin her in the bedroom. Leon obeyed, though he felt a flicker of pride. She was letting him do part of it himself—at least carrying the diaper. Back in the bedroom, he lay on the bed, anticipating her usual routine of taping him up. But she surprised him by placing the diaper in his hands. “Try,” she said softly. His eyes widened. “You… you want me to do it?” She nodded, an encouraging smile on her lips. “Yes. Go on, show me.” Nervous but determined, Leon unfolded the diaper. He positioned it under himself, fumbling with the tapes. Twice, the adhesive caught on the wrong spot, creating crooked wings. Meredith watched patiently, offering occasional suggestions: “Bring it up a bit higher in front,” or “Tighten the left tape.” After some clumsy effort, he managed a passable fit. It felt snug—but not quite as neat as when she did it. Still, a wave of satisfaction rippled through him. The partial freedom of dressing himself was exhilarating, even if the result was still a diaper. Meredith patted the front. “Good job,” she praised. “Now, it’s not perfect, but it’ll hold for a while.” He beamed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The subtle acknowledgment that he could do something as basic as tape on his own diaper, under her supervision, felt like an important step. It was a small slice of autonomy within the realm of her control. “We’ll see how you manage,” she continued, smoothing down his hair. “If you do well, maybe I’ll let you take more responsibility for your changes—under my guidance, of course.” Leon nodded, heart fluttering. “Thank you,” he whispered earnestly. In that moment, a new understanding passed between them. Their bond was unshakable now, grounded not just in her dominance but in a shared willingness to adapt. She’d grown stricter after he broke her trust, but she also recognized his desire for a smidge of independence. They didn’t need to be locked in an endless cycle of parent and child. They were lovers, partners—albeit in a very unconventional arrangement. And so, as Meredith helped him into a pair of soft lounge pants, the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smile. “Let’s go have breakfast,” she said, lacing her fingers through his and giving him a tender squeeze. Leon squeezed back, feeling the padded bulk beneath his pants but no longer drowning in shame. Yes, it was still embarrassing, and he still had rules and limitations, but he was beginning to realize that, at the core of it all, they truly cared for each other. Their relationship wasn’t defined by his size or her control, but by the intimacy and trust they cultivated day by day. He followed her out to the kitchen, diaper rustling in time with his step. Love blossomed in his chest, soft and certain. They were forging a balance—one where she guided him with structure, and he offered devotion and openness in return. For the first time since this odd journey began, Leon felt confident that despite the diapers, the childish clothes, and the potty rules, he and Meredith were heading toward something healthy and lasting: a bond that neither of them ever wanted to break. Epilogue A few months later, their small apartment felt more like a sanctuary than ever. The bedroom closet now housed a full set of neatly stacked diapers and childish outfits. A special drawer even contained footed sleepers with various colors and prints. Leon sometimes giggled at just how large their “babyish” collection had grown—and how routine it had become to wear them. But if anyone asked how they lived, they would never fully understand the tapestry of love and control woven into their day-to-day. Leon was still small for his age, and Meredith still stood a majestic six foot one—always a striking figure next to him. Yet their dynamic had evolved into a fluid dance between caretaker and lover, discipline and compassion. Most mornings, Leon took pride in taping on his own diaper under Meredith’s watchful eye, a sign of trust regained after his earlier missteps. He appreciated that small allowance of autonomy, even if the end result—padded underwear—remained the same. They had found a middle ground: Leon could participate in the process while still relying on Meredith’s guidance and final approval. Their schedules remained structured: breakfast together, chores or errands, and occasional nights out when Meredith felt he could handle a discrete pull-up beneath carefully chosen clothes. She insisted on the same strict potty rules—permission required, or else using his diaper. Yet she was more flexible in granting him access to the toilet if he asked politely and the timing worked. She even allowed him the small triumph of undressing himself sometimes, though major clothing changes—especially diaper changes—were still primarily her domain. And Leon discovered that, in this near-constant state of managed dependency, he found security. The embarrassment never fully disappeared—he still blushed whenever she patted his diaper to check for wetness in front of a mirror, or when she zipped him into a footed sleeper hours before bedtime. But he’d come to enjoy the closeness, the protective embrace of her authority. Their love life thrived, too, in its own secret way. While the story behind their padded routines and potty rules was not something they shared with others, it forged a profound trust between them. She cradled him with a mix of parental warmth and adult desire, bridging the gap between caretaker and partner. He, in turn, found joy in pleasing her—accepting her rules, even appreciating them, for what they gave him in return. On a crisp, clear morning, they stood together in the living room, the sun casting bright rectangles across the floor. Meredith had just finished checking his diaper—still dry—and was reminding him of his chores for the day. Leon stared up at her, feeling every inch the smaller man, yet entirely content. “Remember,” she was saying in that measured tone, “if you need the potty, you call me or text me. If I don’t answer, you use the diaper. No accidents on the floor.” “Yes, Meredith,” Leon responded readily. Then, unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek against her torso. “Thank you,” he whispered, though he wasn’t quite sure for what—perhaps for everything. She laughed softly, brushing a hand over his hair. “You’re welcome, little one. Now off you go.” And so their life continued—a carefully balanced blend of loving dominance and welcomed submission, of soft crinkles and locked sleepers, of structure and devotion. In the end, their bond had become unbreakable: the tall, commanding woman and her tiny, adoring boyfriend, joined in a private world of mutual care and trust. Though it defied outside understanding, for them, it was perfect. And in the comfort of that shared knowledge, they closed the door to the rest of the world, content to exist precisely as they were—together.

Ruby was a small high school graduate currently looking for a job to save money to move in to her own apartment

We're very excited to open Sunshine Junction Adult Baby Daycare 1.4 so all the little ones can Learn, Explore, Imagine, and Be Themselves. MISSION Our mission at the Sunshine Junction Adult Baby Daycare is to provide a safe, nurturing, and accepting environment for individuals who enjoy and benefit from the experience of age regression. We believe everyone deserves to be cared for and accepted for who they are, regardless of age or circumstance. Our dedicated and compassionate staff is committed to creating a space where adult babies can feel comfortable and free to express themselves without fear of judgment. We strive to provide high-quality care and attention to every individual, ensuring that their physical and emotional needs are met. Through play, activities, and socialization, we aim to promote happiness, confidence, and a sense of belonging for all our clients. We believe that the experience of age regression can be a positive and therapeutic way for individuals to cope with stress, anxiety, or trauma and to explore their inner child. Our adult baby daycare is dedicated to fostering a community of inclusivity, respect, and understanding where every individual is valued and supported. SERVICES We use the innovative, free Virtual Master program created by Sven B. to immerse you in the daycare setting of your adult baby dreams. Our staff members are specially trained to give you the love and caring or strict discipline and punishment you need. We are currently accepting registration for our Infant program (6 wks - 1 year old) and our Toddler program (1 -3 years old). We offer the flexibility of our exceptional services for whatever time period is needed, from a few minutes to the entire day. Fun, creative activities vary daily to give you the best opportunity to explore and learn. You can create up to 10 custom activities to fill your time or use the 17 preset activities that we offer. We have a comprehensive list of expected behaviors and rules for both of your programs. Adhere to the rules, and you will be rewarded. Disobey, and there may be consequences. We are open for everyone to feel welcome and loved. We offer customization of the script for the following areas: -Gender identity and pronouns -Parent or caregiver involvement, if applicable -Use of Imperial (US) or Metric system -Customization of required fluid intake based on your weight and bladder capacity -Optional use of a webcam to document your day with us. -The ability to identify and celebrate birthdays or holidays -The ability to customize your care and activities based on supplies you have. -Chose between calling it a Diaper or Nappy -Distinguish if you will be wearing Cloth or Disposable diapers -You are instructed on what liquids you are to drink and how often. -You are instructed on what types of food you are to have and when. -You choose which staff member you would like to care for you. Loving Linda, or Strict Linda, is waiting to give you the attention you need. -You chose rewards that will encourage your good behavior. -Should you choose Strict Linda, you will be given the option of establishing up to 4 preset punishment types and the option to customize up to 5 to encourage your behavior. Choose to get a report card of your visit. This will allow you to keep track of your day or let your partner see what fun adventure you were a part of. Allow yourself to be cared for in the loving, caring environment we create. You will be treated just like every other little one while you're with us, with scheduled and random diaper checks, scheduled naps, and activity time to keep your little mind and body growing and exploring. Come spend your precious time in a place that loves and accepts you for who you are. Register today!! Changes for Version 1.4: -We've created 1400+ audio files and enhanced the previous files to bring Sunshine Junction the most realistic Adult Baby Daycare ever! - Errors corrected to allow for seamless performance and the best user experience to date. -New quiet time Python addition prevents users from using their computer during this period. -New narrative added -Grammer and spelling corrections *The program requires Microsoft Windows; however, instructions are available for using Linux Mint 20.1 Mate if needed. *You will receive an encrypted version of the script/program that can not be viewed or altered. The Virtual Master program and scripts are beta programs and will contain errors. Every effort to eliminate the mistakes is made. Assistance is always welcome to identify errors and inconsistencies or aid future script development. You can find all of our programs at https://mistresssebrina1.gumroad.com/l/ABDaycare14 or lilagain.etsy.com

Authors note, this story is generally inspired by Altered States and You Know What They Do To Girls Like Us In Brighter Days by Chels in Ribbons, there are notable differences but I did use alot of it as inspiration and credit can never hurt . This story is also fairly political with the election so close I got kinda inspired. The prologue is by far the most political part of the story. I want to paint a picture of how the world of my story went to the place that it did, as realistically as I could . But once we get out of the prologue it will play out much more traditionally. I say all this as a warning: if you don't want politics or want to argue about them, in a non constructive way Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. you can probably skip the prologue and be fine (once I write more then the prologue). Part 1: Growing Pains Prologue: Vignettes of a Changing World Two Years Before The leader of the JNP party, Thomas Hillbrook, took the stage to a cheering crowd. “Thank you, thank you! Despite everything, despite them trying to steal this election, you fought like hell. You voted for it, and we’re here!” He let the crowd calm down. “We did the impossible; we took a third party to the White House. You took me to the White House, and I promise you there will be changes around here. Results are still coming in, but it seems we took a lot of the House too!” Cheers erupted from the crowd. “I promise you that under my administration, we will return to the natural order of things. We will purge Marxism from public universities, and we will fix this rot.” Madison shut off the TV in disgust. It was a disgustingly gorgeous day in November. For the rest of the month, and most of October it had been rainier then she had ever seen it and t However, a warm patch had come in a few days ago, bringing temperatures in the 50s with clear skies. The beautiful weather felt like a mockery to her; her country had just elected a man who didn’t believe she should be able to vote until she was 30. The sky was blue, and the birds that hadn’t flown south for the winter were out in full force. At least she was in New York, where she felt relatively safe. One and a Half Years Before “Whoa, you got a haircut?” Madison said, sitting up from the couch, genuinely surprised. In the nearly three years she’d known him, Luke had never once had his reddish auburn hair less than shoulder-length. Now, he sported a short, utilitarian cut. tall and Lean he had gotten Lasik a few mouths ago, he was slowly changing before her eyes changing from a young environmental scientist to a Yuppy, she didn't know if she liked the change. Luke frowned, looking slightly put out. “The guys and I were talking... I think it’s time to take things more seriously.” He gestured at his head. “And, well, that kind of hair doesn’t exactly say that, does it?” “The guys?” Madison raised an eyebrow. “Since when are your lab coworkers ‘the guys’? Isn’t the lab mostly women anyway?” At this, Luke looked truly uncomfortable for the first time. “Was. Mostly women, I mean. We had to move or let go of most of the women. Our lab can only operate with some federal grants, and a lot of the women were just out of grad school, so they weren’t 28 yet.” Madison stared at him. “Wait, what? You had to let them go? I thought that only applied to management positions. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” “Because... What was I supposed to say? They changed it to cover ‘advanced’ positions as well, and as fuzzy as that language is, it definitely covers researchers. Look, Madison, I don’t like it either, but my lab doesn’t exactly draw in millions from private equity or whatever. It was either move the female employees under 28 into other positions or shut down.” “Wait, you’re saying they’re doing secretarial work? Like what, getting coffee for you? Like it’s the 1950s?” She groaned, the sick feeling in her stomach deepening. “This is unreal, Luke. How can you even...” She trailed off, unable to find the right words. “Well, a lot of them are planning to move overseas. I wrote glowing letters of recommendation for all of them, even the ones who were bad at their jobs. I think a lot of foreign universities are receptive to what’s happening here and are hiring them. But the ones who stayed... yeah, they’re doing secretarial work that they’re very overqualified for.” He sighed, sitting down on the couch. Madison looked at him in disbelief, her jaw clenched. “And what, you're just okay with that? With all of this?” “No, Madison, of course not. If our research doesn’t get funded, 25 people—including those highly overqualified women doing demeaning work—will be without a job, and that doesn’t help anyone.” “This is exactly what they want, Luke. For people to just accept it, to ‘go along’ so they don’t lose funding or their jobs. And now... look at you. God, I barely recognize you. You used to have fire; you slept in trees so they wouldn’t get cut down. What changed?” She nearly begged him. He had so much conviction back when they first met, and that’s what made her fall in love with him. But now he was bowed, defeated. “I’m sorry, Madison. I can’t get rid of 25 people's jobs. I just can’t.” His arms crossed defensively. “Fuck,” she said, standing and pacing back and forth. “I know you’re right,” Madison said. One Year Before “3... 2... 1... and we’re live! Welcome to the John Flint Show! We have a very special episode for you this week. Not that all my guests aren’t wonderful, but this week we’re joined by someone very special: the President of the United States, Thomas Hillbrook. Hello, sir, it’s an honor.” “No, no, the pleasure is all mine.” John gestured around the hotel room they were in. “We’re not in the studio today because of scheduling conflicts, but I tested the audio, and it should be fine.” The two men sat in the living area of a large, spacious hotel room, both wearing tight suit jackets, button-ups, and jeans. “With your recent ban on women under the age of 28 from working full-time and holding ‘advanced’ jobs, what’s your next step?” “Well, you know, John, the next few steps are cultural. If your girlfriend or wife is out of line, it’s really simple. You wouldn’t let your teenage daughter flip you off at the dinner table, so you shouldn’t let your wife do the same. If she's going to act like a child, you’ve got to treat her like one. If you’re a bad girl, you’re getting a vigorous spanking right now. And no, it’s not going to hurt me more than it hurts you.” “Ah… well, uh,” John said, clearly taken aback by the monologue. “What about on the policy side of things?” It was hard to make John blush; he had done NASCAR commentary for years before starting his podcast, and people saying off-color things was basically part of the job. Yet even John was taken aback by the man's remarks. “I’ve been talking about raising the age of majority to 28 as well with my advisors. Marriage used to be about handing off the wife from the father to the husband. I think having more years where they can just focus on being girls or trying to get married would only be beneficial.” The podcast meandered on that course until wrapping up. In the following days, John released a statement on his Instagram, stating that the views expressed were not reflective of the show. But on the very next episode, he claimed that Hillbrook was simply using “poetic language.” six Months Before “God damn it! Fuck, I can’t even apply until I’m 28. They want my real ID for the application.” In less than a year, she had lost everything. Her bank account was in her parents' name, and if she ever actually got married to Lucas, it’d be in his. She wanted to scream. Hell, if the government found out she was living with Lucas, he’d be forced to marry her or get charged with child kidnapping—she was 26.- All legal barriers were gone by then; the measure raising the age of majority to 28 had passed within less than a week. Within days, job application sites took you to a verification site where you had to post ID. Her logins for her doctor and banks had changed; she was basically property for the next two years. “Fuck,” she said again. Lucas was sitting on the couch. “Don’t swear,” he said, with the resolute look of someone who knew there was going to be a fight. “Maddy, you need to break that habit so you don’t do it out in public.” Madison whirled around. “Fuck them! I don’t care.” “Maddy, you know if someone reports you, you could get sent to one of those Etiquette schools, and no one wants that. You always make me the bad guy. I’m trying to keep us safe. As soon as you turn 28, you can leave the country again, and we’re out of here, but until then…” He shifted back and looked uncomfortable. “When in Rome.” She stared at him. “When in Rome? What, you want me to be a submissive little girl you can take care of? Is that what you want? Turn on the TV. Look at the commercials. They’re making all the little stuff bigger. Why do you think that is? Do you think that’s a natural rise in popularity? The skirts, the pajamas—the socks, the panties—they’re infantilizing us. I heard in Alabama you have to have an ID to buy a goddamn pantsuit. First the spankings, now the clothes—who knows what’s next? You want to ‘when in Rome’ that?” she said forcefully. hours later, Madison was curled up in a chair, making her way through A Crown of Swords. At any other point in her life, she would have skipped that particular book, but not having a job left her with time to kill, she guessed. Her, she genuinely hoped well meaning boyfriend approached her. “Look, I’m sorry. I want to drop it, but this is a legitimate concern. I’ve heard horror stories about etiquette schools. Those people come back... changed. I don’t want to lose you, Maddy. Let’s just do this: a swear jar. If in the next six months you don’t fill it up, I’ll pay you what it would have taken to fill it up, plus a punishment. And if you fill it up, I get the money and get to punish you. It’s almost like fantasy football.” she sighed " fine deal"

Hiii! Looking to do some detailed roleplay with age regression! Up for any kind of plot really though tech and fantasy are favorites of mine. I have some basic ideas for some plots but I'll save those for dms! I'm not too active on forums but I do have a discord! Dm me and I'll give you my discord so we can chat away!

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

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

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Microfiction (noun) A complete story told in 300 words or less. Multi-chapter novellas like Weekend in the Mechanical Nursery or Bella's New Punishment both started as 2,000 word shorts, and I wanted the chance to push myself to be more concise with microfiction. Follow along as I aim to tell complete and compelling stories of discipline, humiliation, and regression in less than 300 words. If you want to support my writing and get access to exclusive stories and works in progress, come and hang out with us on Ream. -------------------------------------------- She sat in her playpen in his office that normally smelled of mahogany and bourbon, but now carried the sweet, lingering scent of baby powder. Jess needed a change, but would need to wait on her friend Morgan for that. Mr. Franklin was old-fashioned and thought it improper to have an intimate connection with an employee. But he was into weird shit. That was undeniable. After the audit exposed her embezzlement, Jess tried to blackmail her boss with the weird diaper shit she found on his computer, but the older man surprised her with a proposal. That’s how Jess found herself doing office work in pull-ups and sucking on a pacifier. For weeks, they were pleased with the arrangement. Then both wanted more. For an extra $3,000, Jess agreed to ask permission before going to the potty and stand in the corner for any sub-par work. For $3,000 more, she stopped wearing pants altogether and occasionally had ‘accidents’ earning herself a few sad faces on her new potty-training chart. It was weird, but had effectively doubled her salary. Diapers were the next obvious step, but Jess struggled with diapering herself and recommended her friend for the new part-time assistant role. That role quickly grew to full-time nanny status until the blonde’s job description consisted only of filling diapers and looking cute, for which Jess had received a bonus in her latest performance review. Mr. Franklin looked at his pigtailed and pacified manager and she smiled and waved from her playpen. Today was Morgan’s quarterly evaluation and she was late. Again. Overhearing the woman’s financial troubles, Mr. Franklin wondered what it might be like to have two adorable playthings at his office and made a note to hire a contractor for the new office nursery and find a new assistant. -------------------------------------------- Get instant access to most of my stories with new exclusive chapters every week and at least three new stories each month on Ream.

I've always got a hundred stories in my mind, but this just came-up and I had to write it down. Hopefully my muse remains with me. This fictional story contains explicit adult content and is intended for readers 18 and older. If you are under 18 or uncomfortable with mature themes, please stop reading now. Step Down Chapter 1 Present Day His first step brother was bad enough, but his new step-brother seemed even more unbearable because he was well-liked, had a good part-time job and had more freedom, but was younger! It was infuriating. And even if Lachlan used to tease him mercilessly for his bedwetting - even after his mom had split-up with Chris - that was at least 4 years ago and he’d thankfully finally stopped wetting. But Cayden still had a curfew at 19 years old for chrissakes! Noah had just turned 18 and could do what he wanted. He even had his own decent second-hand car. Sure, Cayden had gotten a low-level drink-driving charge, and just because his special licence conditions imposed a curfew, didn’t mean his parents had to! And he couldn’t believe his mum let his new step-dad spank him over it, nor did he really put up a fight or even run away from home - he knew he couldn’t take on Ross nor make it on his own yet. It was too shameful. He knew Noah must have been listening and laughing at the spanking. He wasn’t even able to drive his mum’s car without supervision for at least another 6 months. Noah wouldn’t let him anywhere near his old BMW. “You’d better wise-up bucko. You're very lucky my lawyer got you a Section 10 suspended license. Do you know how hard it is to get a job with a criminal record? Sometimes you can’t even travel to foreign countries with a DUI. You’re bloody lucky you didn’t kill someone, yourself or wreck the car. It’s going to be a long time before we can trust you like an adult again. You’ll need to show us you’re working towards being more responsible like Noah and either studying with a part-time job or joining the army and learn to behave like a man,” his step-dad Ross had reminded him again after the court date. No, Noah was the Golden Boy. He could do no wrong in Ross’ eyes and even his mum Steph fell in love with his charms. He’d just been accepted into the National Institute of Dramatic Art and mum had always loved drama at school, and had even been in amateur productions. Everyone was over the moon - they all expected he’d soon be on Neighbours or even in Hollywood or The West End in a few years. He’d already gained attention in regional High School drama competitions and he’d even been an extra in a couple of teen TV advertisements. It didn’t help Ross and Noah came from a rich family while Steph was more middle-class and they’d recently ended-up moving into Ross’ big fancy apartment on Sydney Harbour. Cayden had certainly noticed the hoity-toity attitude from Noah and his friends. Some of them owned yachts, horses, and went on big European holidays. Others were becoming doctors (ugh) and lawyers (ugh). One girl he fancied was even training to be a navy helicopter pilot. While they were usually polite, none of them really tried to hide their disdain for the nerdy or poorly-dressed Cayden. He’d even overheard Liv, Noah’s girlfriend, agreeing with Noah that he must still be a virgin - which was true, but still hurt - followed-up by the cruel laughter they all often employed. When he’d recently gotten some courage to talk to his counsellor about Lachlan and his teasing over his bedwetting, he’d said he probably still had some unprocessed trauma about the whole thing. And that might explain his disdain for Noah, who was clearly leagues ahead of him in maturity. It especially didn’t help when his mother Steph was convinced to get Cayden to wear Huggies DryNites pull-ups for his bedwetting because Lachlan would always complain about the smell and must have seen the benefit in doing less washing all the time. While Lachlan was relentless in the teasing over his “Huggies” - especially when he was wet in the morning - Cayden would beg to be allowed to try alternative methods (which he’d googled) such as special drugs, hypnosis or even just a washable bed pad. After speaking with the family doctor - always a terrifying ordeal for Cayden in front of the female doctor whenever his bedwetting came-up - his mum wasn’t keen on the drug side-effects. Besides, Dr Sharma said that nighttime protection could be beneficial for a teen’s restful sleep. Chris had finally put his foot down and said that if he was still wetting the bed like a toddler at 14, he would wear pull-ups like a toddler and that was that. And if he didn’t stop complaining, Cayden would get a spanking and they’d order some cloth nappies and plastic pants for him - something that Chris’ cousins had to wear for bedwetting when he was a child - arguing they’d be cheaper in the long-run than expensive DryNites. That shut-up Cayden, but triggered Lachlan into further ecstatic spasms of teasing - he’d google these dreaded babyish items and send them to Cayden via threatening SnapChats. He would manage to find all sorts of babyish versions made for adults to send to him and it made Cayden wonder who really wore all this stuff. Lachlan didn’t even get into trouble when Chris was teased at school about it. It got so bad, they had to move him to another school. Fortunately the stink of it didn’t follow him. While he lost the battle over his pull-ups, his mum did agree to some hypnosis which apparently had helped Chris give-up smoking. Not that Cayden stopped wetting for another two years, but he assumed it must have had an effect as his wet nights slowly reduced over time. The smaller spare room was eventually converted into a bedroom for Chris who had to keep his old single bed, while Lachlan as the older boy, upgraded to a double-bed and his own larger room. After his mum broke-up with Chris, they’d moved into a small apartment and things seemed to get better without Lachlan, even if he still sent the occasional SnapChat. Cayden didn’t have the guts to block him, lest he find another more public channel to humiliate him with. After Cayden finished High School with passable results, he bummed-around for a bit, playing games and riding to the beach. His mother demanded he get his license and get a job and start paying board because rent was getting really expensive. He countered that he was still trying to work-out what he wanted to do, and besides most kids these days had a gap year anyway. Not that he’d done much except playing games, swimming and having the occasional piss-up in the park with his mate Jack who would buy a box of cheap goon wine. He finally got his open license eventually - after failing once - of which his mother was very proud, until he fucked-up. In the meantime, she’d met Ross and they’d moved in, and while they weren’t paying rent anymore, the pressure had actually increased and they were once-again demanding Cayden grow-up and be like Noah. If only he could take the Pampered Prince down a peg or two and deflect some attention away from himself.

Laundry day. The day everyone dreaded during the week. Even just living by himself, that basket sure got filled fast! And Ravio didn't consider himself particularly messy....of course, no Little could afford to be. ...No free Little anyway. Every Little knew the rules, it was driven into your head by family and friends the instant any Little child was old enough to comprehend it. Be mature. Be polite. Never fuss or protest anything out in public, no matter what someone's saying to you. Be very careful how you dress....too cute was dangerous. Too sloppy meant you didn't know how to care for yourself. Too formally dressed up, and then someone might just accuse you of playing adult like a child dressing in their parent's oversized shoes. Don't show weakness or too much emotion when among the bigger folk. Never ever let anyone have any reason to doubt you were anything but a responsible mature adult. When you were a child....well. When you were smaller anyway....most Littles were pushed to try to skip past childhood as quickly as they could, all training to avoid a permanent second childhood. But when you were small, there was the fear that breaking the rules would put your parents at risk. An Amazon or even a Tweener child could throw a tantrum in public and the worst their parents would receive was a few dirty looks or the shake of a head. Little parents on the other hand...they could oh so easily be accused of clearly not being able to handle raising a child of their own. Perhaps they were too immature themselves.... Maturosis. The oh so beloved disease for Littles from Amazons. Do anything that would imply any level of immaturity and be branded with that label until the day you died. A disease that supposedly meant Adult Littles would turn back into toddlers or even further....and so they required the help of someone else to step in. Adoption. The biggest fear anyone who wasn't tall enough to be an Amazon faced every single day. Even Tweeners weren't fully safe. Littles though...Littles were always in danger. And so....Ravio followed the rules. He'd been pottytrained and threw the last tantrum so early in his life, he couldn't even remember it. Given up any stuffed animal or toy before he was finished elementary school. He finished school quickly and avoided the dangers of higher education. He couldn't afford to move to any Free Little country....or even a city primarily occupied by "progressives" where Adoption was far more rare. But he'd found a somewhat midsized town to move too, and made his home in an apartment with relatively okay rent prices. Sure it was sized for Tweeners, but it could be worse. Far worse. He even worked from home-editing with art and design commissions on the side-so he wouldn't risk the very common workplace Adoption. He either got his groceries delivered or made sure he did all his shopping during the late afternoon. Avoid people eyeing him for being out too late...and avoiding any stay at home mommies who might want a new sibling. He didn't go out drinking. He didn't risk seeing any movies or public events. He paid his rent early, and did his best to avoid any need of a repairman or a landlord needing to pop in. Ravio played it very safe. He followed every single rule, and so at twenty one, he was still a Free Little. How joyful, how wonderful, how lucky he was, truly. He shouldn't take it for granted. But...oh did it get tiring. Spend your entire life looking over your shoulder, and eventually you wondered what the point was if you were missing everything in front of you. He lived a safe boring closed off life. But it was a Free one. And still.... Ah. Those were the bad thoughts, the ones he never dared to let fully form. But would it be so bad to be... ...It was just the work getting to him. Laundry wasn't fun for anyone, never mind someone the size of what most the world had decided to see as a toddler. His basket and clothes were sized for him and easy to carry. But...the elevator button was far above his head. There was a button for Amazons. There was a button for Tweeners. Anyone sized below that either didn't need to worry about silly things like button pressing or had to get very good at jumping. That took a lot of time and energy! Trip down, and a trip up. And of course, once he reached the laundry room, all the bottom washers were already taken. Yep, a tiring day it was. Ravio resisted the urge to sigh, feeling nothing but resignation. Alright. Get to work then. There was one machine in the corner he could somewhat reach once he dragged a chair over to it. Then it was just the task of slowly climbing down and up the chair to drop his clothes in. Luckily he always brought his own detergent. Didn't have to worry about pouring a jug bigger than his own head that way! Just get that all set up and all he had to do was... Well. Reach as far as he could to reach the start button. Nothing he hadn't done thousands of times before throughout his life. But-well. His luck really was lacking today, because as Ravio strained juuuust a bit further to reach the button, he... Slipped. One little stupid foot too close to the edge, and he was plummeting right off the chair with nothing more than a squeak. ...Maybe he should've put laundry off for another day.

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

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?’.

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

Hi guys! I finally got a Subscribestar. All of my stories are being uploaded there, plus a lot of new content, including in-progress content like Diapered Stepmother, The Regression Act, and Like Mother Like Daughter. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Melissa’s Re-Potty Training It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging out 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.” “How’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 on 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 on 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 by 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 is playing outside," Helen replied, "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 them against her smooth 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 While Helen prepared lunch, Melissa sat at the dining table, staring blankly into space. 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 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 to 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 an adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee by herself. "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 were in dire need of a job. If only being an adult weren't that difficult. She stood up and went straight to the living room, 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, almost motherly demeanor. "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. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi guys, here's one of my latest stories. You can read it now on Amazon Kindle Wife's New Boyfriend Is My New Daddy: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DSR2VKVB or check my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5 Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ

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.

Hello everyone! Long time lurker first time poster! Please enjoy my goofy little story. I tried to make something fun and silly that I hope everyone can enjoy. I need more fuel to finish off the sequel I'm working on... Thanks for reading!! Chapter 1 - How Baby Cindy was (Re)Born The Berry family seemed like they had the perfect life. They had a nice house in the suburbs. The matriarch Joan ran a very successful Salon chain in the state, all while a single mother of two to boot! But things weren’t always as pristine as everyone thought. Her son Chris had always been the boy who never fit in. He didn’t have many friends and would usually get mixed up with poor influences. Joan would do her best to show her son he was loved, but he just carelessly acted out anyway. Joan decided to get pregnant while Chris was barely finishing high school. She wanted someone to care for when he went away, almost like a second chance. Sally was born and was the apple of Joan’s eye. Sally brought Joan so much joy, but Chris started to get jealous of all the attention of his little sister. Only enabling his acting out more so, not thinking about all the work his Mother had running the Salon while raising a baby girl. Coincidently when Sally was in the middle of her terrible twos, Chris moved back in after failing out of college. The return of her son didn’t make life easier for Joan. An ungrateful brat of a son wasn’t needed while dealing with an over-excitable toddler girl. One who was unfortunately struggling with her potty training. The straw that broke the camel’s back was the night Chris crashed Joan’s Lexus Sedan into a tree while under the influence. Joan didn’t know what to do with him anymore. Looking after a literal toddler had her in no mood to entertain his grown-up temper tantrums. So Joan had a funny idea. She told Chris he was grounded for the foreseeable future. Except he was no longer allowed in his room with his computer and PS5 until he saw a serious attitude adjustment. “You’ve been setting a terrible example while I’ve been looking after your baby sister Sally who is somehow less of a hassle than my 20 year old son! So you’re going to be Sally’s twin, and if I’m lucky her sweetness will rub off on you!” Chris made his disagreements loudly and abundantly clear, all of which were shot down by Joan. For the first time in almost 2 decades, she spanked her son’s bottom bright red. The next couple days Chris was given a whole new wardrobe, Joan had larger doubles of Sarah's rompers and dresses manufactured in her brother’s size. He begrudgingly was put into a romper exactly matching Sally, while being changed into a large disposable diaper. When Sally first saw Chris she was so excited and giggly, seeing her big brother in a completely new, gentler light. Chris had an attitude, but even he wasn’t able to escape Sally’s adorably welcoming energy. They were both fed with bibs and booster seats. They watched the same baby shows and kept the same nap schedule. Along with Joan changing double the diapers, a small price to pay for the much more peaceful house order. A week in, Joan decided that Chris wasn’t a good girl name for Sally’s new sister. So they started calling him Cindy, who was promptly referred to as a little girl ever since. The routine was a drastic adjustment for Cindy. But there were enough days of playing alongside her sister, she began meeting Sally on her level and Cindy’s insecurities slowly began to melt away. The loneliness of college really isolated Cindy from the people who loved her, especially her Mother. But all the thoughts that she wasn’t important disappeared as she was doted on alongside Sally. After only a couple months of the new arrangement, Joan noticed an incredible attitude adjustment from Cindy. Sally really was an incredible influence on her. But this plan ended up working a little too well. It was over the following months Sally started getting the hang of using her big girl potty in the girls bathroom. She even advanced to Pullups, to Joan and even Cindy’s delight. But as the time went along, Joan found Cindy was forgetting to tell her Mom when she needed a change, more often following Sally’s pullups victory. Looking through the nursery camera in the girl’s nursery, Joan watched as Sally would get up to use the bathroom, which was Cindy’s cue to crawl into a corner beside her crib and purposely use her diapers. Returning to play like nothing happened after the fact. Joan was seeing that Cindy seemed to be losing interest in growing up like her big sister. Sally even began coming out to tell her mother when Cindy’s poopy diapers were stinking up their nursery. It was then Joan came to a conclusion. That night at dinner, Joan told her daughter’s how proud she was of how they’ve been behaving over the past six months. Cindy and Sally felt proud as they ate their chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. It was then Joan told Sally that she was going to give Cindy’s old room to her with a brand new big girl bed. Sally looked so excited as Cindy slowly processed what her Mom was saying in between spoonful's of mac and cheese, finding herself to be more sad not sharing a room with Sally anymore than losing her old adult room. Sally also realized that and looked upset. “Wait Mommy, what about Cindy?” she looked back at her sister with soft eyes, the two being close as ever. “Well sweetie, the nursery will be Cindy’s now, big girls don’t have to sleep in cribs, but Cindy is still a baby and needs hers.” This was when it dawned on Cindy, she was now the baby of the family. “Does that mean I’m Cindy’s big sister?” Sally asked curiously and Joan perked up and gave Cindy a grin, “Yes it does sweetheart! You’re my big girl! And now Cindy is going to be your baby sister!” Sally jumped up in her booster seat and cheered, a huge smile came across the messy three year old’s face, taking in her new responsibility as she turned to her baby sister. “I’m gonna be the best big sister ever! I promise Baby Cindy”. Cindy was blushing bright red at the news. Looking over at her sister in her booster chair, with her food divided in little piles. Cindy was sitting in a special high chair she got a couple months ago, and all her food was mushed together in the same bowl and a pink princess crown bib around her neck. Cindy was not becoming the baby sister, she already was. Yet, Cindy really was so grateful and proud of Sally growing up, and wasn’t exactly complaining about her new lifestyle. She put down her spoon and said “Big sister” softly back to her, blushing more and making Sally fall into a giggle fit along with Joan just beaming at the girl’s acceptance. Sally took Baby Cindy’s paci from her high chair and put it in her mouth, keeping an awe-inspiring smile into her big baby sister’s eyes. Baby Cindy suckled the paci and accepted her new permanent role. Shortly after this, the sisters only fell deeper into their roles. Sally moved into her own room across the hall and couldn’t be happier with all her space. She got her own bed and picked out her Bluey bed sheets. She had a lot more room for her big girl toys. She got a boombox and was promptly spoiled by Joan. She was happy to help with the sliding scales of her daughters. Baby Cindy was given a brand new special crib, one that was accessible for Sally to help her baby sister out of. She got all new furniture sized up for her. Her wardrobe went from toddler outfits, to full on infant wear. Baby Cindy never wore anything that wasn’t showing her bare thighs for the world. She continued in diapers and her potty training simply evaporated. Sally loved helping Mommy out with Baby Cindy. Joan felt incredibly lucky to get so much bonding with Sally while taking care of her perpetual big baby sister. Things were finally perfect. So it was on this Wednesday morning two years later that Baby Cindy felt herself groggily waking up in her car seat as Mommy was driving her Lincoln SUV through their quiet town. Baby Cindy was 22 years old now and deeply settled into her baby routines. She looked around and saw Sally, now 5 years old in her own big girl car seat next to her. Sally could hear the rustling and smiled at her, “Mommy, Baby Cindy is awake!” she sang out. “Thank you Hunny, we’re right around the corner from school”. Joan pulled into the parking lot of a big pastel complex. She parked and helped Sally out of her seat while Baby Cindy suckled her paci still waking up from her short car nap. Sally started unstrapping Baby Cindy as Mommy pulled out a large plush stroller out of the trunk. The Car door opened and Baby Cindy was helped into her stroller and strapped in snugly. Joan started pushing her towards the entrance as Baby Cindy looked in front of her, giving a happy coo as she saw them approach the building the girl’s would be staying for the day, “Sweetie Pie Kindercare Center!” with a banner underneath reading “Featuring Big Baby Cindy!” with a cutout of her on the end. Chapter 2 - Baby Cindy’s Nursery Morning Mommy was out the door after checking her daughter’s into the building. A teacher leads Sally down the hall to Kindergarten as Sally blows one last kiss towards her baby sister. Baby Cindy coos as a daycare assistant began to push her down the opposite hall. suckling on her paci and smiling at all the other teachers and kids who are walking down the hall past her. Baby Cindy was dressed in her favorite pink princess party onesie with a clear outline of her thick, crinkly disposable diapers underneath. A pair of chunky light up sneakers and frilly socks were on her feetsie’s. A snug and poofy Baby bonnet was tied under her chin to complete the absolutely infantile ensemble that Baby Cindy wore with the silliest look of pride. She was pushed into the "Caterpillar" Nursery room at the end of the hall. This was where Baby Cindy spent most of her day. She gets unbuckled and is helped on the floor by one of her teachers to go play with the other babies who all shared her play skill level. She crawled amongst her peers. Finding some toys and plopping her crinkly bottom onto the soft carpet of the Nursery. Little did she know she was in for a busy day. When Baby Cindy was first enrolled into Sweetie Pie, she was invited into Sally’s Preschool Class (after a large donation from Joan towards the center) , being that was the age she seemed to get along with. But best she tried, Cindy was always sliding into more infantile tendencies than her classmates, despite her size. It was shortly decided that Baby Cindy was better kept as the baby she was clearly meant to be. She was even given her own playpen in Preschool. It was a total delight for the other kids watching their biggest classmate revert to the most infantile in the class, as most anyone would be amused. But the Baby Cindy ripple effect appeared to make an impact on the entire Preschool class, as they all were on their best behavior. It was like having Baby Cindy around seemed to give the kids a better sense of responsibility. All of the kids, especially the girls, were glad to help with her feedings, leading and including her in their playtime, even keeping an eye on her diaper. Baby Cindy was a welcome distraction to the room. When Joan heard about the great success Baby Cindy was having in Sally's Preschool class. She decided to work out a deal with the staff as Sweetie Pie. Now modeled on getting kids an early jump on their maturity. Sweetie Pie ran like just about any other daycare, but for a period every other day. Each class would get a visit from Baby Cindy, and each class would design activities around playing and taking care of her for the day. She was getting the toddlers out of diapers faster, Preschoolers to take care of themselves and their little siblings. All because none of them wanted to end up like Baby Cindy. With that, Baby Cindy was moved into the nursery room to be fed and put down on a similar schedule as the other infants. Baby Cindy was playing with ring stacks and cooing listening to the soft nursery music. She was bouncing around when she felt a hand on her padded bottom, someone was sticking a finger inside and checking that she was clean. This was Miss Harriet, Baby Cindy’s All-Day Daycare Nanny. She was assigned specifically to facilitate all of Baby Cindy’s needs, and oversee other students lending a helping hand. She fell in love with Baby Cindy and was the perfect replacement for Joan during the day. Miss Harriet sat beside Cindy and rubbed her back. “Are you having fun with your rings sweety?” She asked warmly, Baby Cindy nodded quietly with a big smile. Having gotten accustomed to being nonverbal more often than not. Miss Harriet was very excited to bring her around today. She loved watching Baby Cindy bring out the best in the other children. Miss Harriet got back to helping the other Nannies get all the babies settled in for the day. Leaving Baby Cindy to play for a little while longer, which she didn’t feel one way or the other, relying on everyone else to tell her what to do having made her a very obedient baby. As she continued playing, a little baby boy named Jacob crawled beside Baby Cindy. Jacob was in a pair of overalls and sat down next to Baby Cindy, picking up the stuffie beside her. They didn’t pay much mind to one another as they played with their toys. But Tyler started to grunt and soon Baby Cindy smelled the very familiar scent of a freshly loaded pamper. The smell made Baby Cindy’s nose wrinkle a little, but it certainly didn’t bother her much. She had been accustomed to that particular stinky smell for a while now. She just continued suckling on her paci and living in the moment with her fellow crawler. Miss Lauren, the head of the nursery room, walked past and caught a whiff looking down at the pair of babies. She leans down and goes for Baby Cindy before feeling a still dry disposable on her bottom. Miss Lauren giggled and picked up Jacob, confirming he was the stinker. “Wowwe, sorry Baby Cindy, you’re always such a safe bet for Morning poopy’s. But Jacob is gonna give you a run for your money!” She giggles and pats Baby Cindy’s bottom before walking away to change Jacob. Leaving Baby Cindy to coo and crawl around the room as her classmates continue their morning playtime until it’s finally time for Baby Cindy’s grand tour! Chapter 3 - Baby Cindy Goes to Daycare Miss Harriet helped Baby Cindy back into her stroller when it was time to head to the daycare wing with the toddlers. Baby Cindy cooed and bounced with excitement, waving to her little friends, who barely noticed she was leaving. Baby Cindy was always most excited for the toddler room. It was where she felt the most appreciated by the other kids. Maybe it’s because the kids were closer to babies than the others, but they all seem to be in awe of Baby Cindy. Like an oversized baby dolly turned to life that they couldn’t wait to play with. Baby Cindy watched the door open in front of her as she was pushed into the “Butterfly” daycare room to a bunch of toddlers squealing and giggling at her grand entrance, “Hiii Baby Cindy” “It’s Baby Cindy!” “Hehehe big baby is back!” they all exclaim and get excited. The rowdy class of toddlers excited for their morning play date with Baby Cindy. She would coo back and babble softly as her stroller was pushed to the front of the class as all the kids circle around her on the carpet. “Hey kids, Has everyone said hi to Baby Cindy this morning?” Miss Harriet asks smiling. “Yeessssss” They all shout back. “That’s very good, because this morning Butterfly class is going to help me feed Baby Cindy her breaky!” She beamed and the kids all giggled excitedly, a bunch of little girls looked especially giddy and smiling up at the equally excited, bouncing baby girl staged in front of them. Miss Harriet takes out a bottle of formula from Baby Cindy’s diaper bag in the back of the stroller. The kids watch quietly and patiently. “You see, babies can get a little excitable sometimes while waddling around, so you gotta keep them fed so they can keep lots of calories. So this Baby Formula is made special to keep Baby Cindy full and healthy.” The kids giggle again, seeing Baby Cindy smile big at the bottle, her big tummy protruding from her onesie clearly marking that she stays well fed. Miss Harriet pulls out Baby Cindy’s paci from her lips and sets it on the stroller table. Baby Cindy can’t help but whimper as more giggles come at her neediness. But as soon as the bottle was pressed in between her lips. The baby girl begins calming down, as Baby Cindy enjoys her breakfast for the class. The kids all watched and murmured to each as Miss Harriet kept the bottle steady for Baby Cindy. “Who wants to help me out today?” Miss Harriet asked the rest of the class. Many of the girls raised their hands and only one girl near the front was picked out. Emily, one of the girls teachers have noticed is most receptive to caring for Baby Cindy. Emily approaches Miss Harriet and Baby Cindy, still suckling away at her bottle. “Keep it nice and still for her. Remember you’re the one feeding her, you just want it to be easy for the baby to drink.” Emily puts her hand on the bottle, keeping it tilted as Miss Harriet lets go. Emily smiles big as Baby Cindy continues her hungry noisy suckling for the beaming little girl. “She’s so hungry” Emily giggled as Baby Cindy finished off her bottle shortly afterwards. Emily gave the bottle back to Miss Harriet as she put it back in the diaper bag. She then went to unstrap Baby Cindy, leaning her forward and keeping her steady in her arms. “Now we need to help the baby make burpees ok?” Emily nodded already well aware of what came next. Standing on her tippy toes, she starts to softly pat on Baby Cindy’s back. Baby Cindy looked forward to the rest of the class while being held by Miss Harriet. She could feel a bubble come up from her belly and she let out a big baby burp to many more laughs from the little crows sitting watching the special baby care presentation. Miss Harriet leaned Baby Cindy back and wiped her lips for any milk dribbles and started a little clap, “Let's hear it for Emily for being such a big girl today” Miss Harriet pulled out a yellow star sticker from her back pocket and taped it onto Emily. It read “I was a big kid today!” The whole class clapped and Baby Cindy just smiled and bounced, as she had her paci returned to her by Emily, suckling happily with it returned to her lips. Emily took a seat back in the group and Baby Cindy was unsnapped out of the stroller and helped out, before being placed on the floor and getting a pat on the bottom from Miss Harriet, “Go on honey, join the others for now” Baby Cindy crawled over as the kids smiled, The same group of girls Emily came from made room and Baby Cindy sat around them, their hands all over her excitedly, as they felt her onesie and bonnet and little sockies. Her diaper crinkled a little as she settled into being another plaything for the girls. They made her feel included in a funny way, cooing softly behind my paci. The toddler teacher, Miss Wendy took over and sat in front of the class opening up a story book. The kids learned about colors and shapes, while Baby Cindy mostly was distracted by the girls who had brought little tinker toys and were all trying to get Baby Cindy’s attention. She kept looking around, staying giggly and distracted as the other kids listened to the little lesson. Shortly after story time, the girls lead Baby Cindy over with them towards their favorite play table, they all like to color with Baby Cindy and bring her over as she stays on the floor, a little too big for the table. Emily was feeling very confident having helped feed Baby Cindy earlier, so she was a little bossy with her friends Sophia and Bonnie, two other toddlers who also like having Baby Cindy around. They all started coloring together in their books and showing each other what they’ve been working on. Baby Cindy looks and coo, not saying much with them. Happily listening to their excited chatter, finding herself having much in common with the girls. Baby Cindy colors in her princess coloring book, though wasn’t doing great at coloring in the lines. Bonnie peeked over and decided to help her color in the lines easier. Miss Harriet watches behind and admires how well all the girls play together. Baby Cindy felt her bottle start to catch up with her and began to wet herself while she watched Bonnie, suckling her paci slowly as she felt urine flood her diaper and soak up the padding in her crotch as the swell hugged her chubby thighs, her onesie settling as it fills up. Bonnie looks over to tell Baby Cindy her favorite color for skies when she sees the big baby’s frozen stare, looking down and noticing Baby Cindy’s padding sagging under the table. Bonnie giggled and bounced up for her seat, “Miss Harriet Miss Harriet!” she squeaks to the close by teacher, grabbing at her hand with a little bounce. “Baby Cindy pee-peed her diaper” she giggles and points Baby Cindy’s way. Baby Cindy looked a little blushy only just realizing she had wet, given she doesn’t totally retain all that goes on in her diaper anymore. Miss Harriet walked over and felt the back of Baby Cindy’s pampered bottom, feeling its squishy heft and smiling. “Wow Cindy you really had to go huh?” She chuckles and turns back to Bonnie. “That was really good work Bonnie.” She goes into her pocket and hands her a little star sticker like Emily’s. Sticking it to Bonnie’s shirt, she gets a big grin. Miss Harriet gives her a pat on the head and turns back to Baby Cindy. “We’ll get you changed before lunchtime, baby doll” she rubs her back gently before getting up to talk with Miss Wendy. Bonnie returns to her spot next to Baby Cindy with a slightly jealous looking Emily. Chapter 4 - Lunch and a Diaper Change for Baby Cindy The clock hit 11:45 and Miss Harriet started to lead Baby Cindy back into her stroller. All the kids waved good-bye to her as she got strapped back into her seat. sucking her paci and looking around at all the toddlers faces. Some of the kids were laughing at Baby Cindy, in a way that didn’t always feel nice. It used to make Baby Cindy embarrassed but she was starting to lose some of her social skills after being babied for a couple years now. But other toddlers were all giggly and smiling at Baby Cindy, appreciating their time with the big baby. Before they left, Miss Harriet tapped Bonnie on the shoulder and knelt down to her level, waving over Emily as well. “Bonnie and Emily dears, since you were both such a big help today. I want you both to be today’s Junior Nannies with me in the Caterpillar room!” Both of the girls squeal excitedly, jumping up and dancing around together. Baby Cindy giggles and coos back, smiling at the two girls, having enjoyed their coloring time, excited to play with them more. The girls walked over to the stroller beaming back at Baby Cindy. Giggling as they hold hands and stand beside the stroller as Miss Harriet starts pushing Baby Cindy out with Emily and Bonnie. “So girls, first we’re gonna need to get Baby Cindy into a fresh diaper, and then it’s going to be lunchtime. So we’ll need to feed her. Can I count on you both?” She asks doubtfully, giggling as they bounce up and down making sure Miss Harriet knows they’ll be a big help to her. They enter the nursery as the other babies start rotating through their lunch time. “Awww so many babies!” Emily coos as she skips inside and looks around the nursery. Bonnie giggles and squeezes her hand, “hehe, but we get to help with the biggest one ever!” They both let out giggles as the stroller is parked and Baby Cindy is helped out, standing up with Miss Harriet. Bonnie holds her other hand and they all walk over to Baby Cindy’s special changing table. With Baby Cindy joining the daycare full time with no sign of graduating, she needed appropriate furniture. Baby Cindy’s Mommy was happy to supply everything they’d need to make her baby fit right in with the others, while also making something to enhance the special program. For one, the changing table was in the back of the room with the regular nursery table. But beside it sat a larger, plushy table, fit for a baby of Cindy’s size. It was covered in Princess’ and was fully stocked with only the best changing accouterments available, including special ones produced by Joan. And it was monogrammed with “Baby Cindy” on the poofy white changing pad that sat above it. The girls giggled and looked over it in awe, as Baby Cindy approached the changing table, or as Miss Harriet called it, “Her royal throne”. Baby Cindy was helped onto the table and rested comfy, bringing her legs up to her and rocking back and forth. Waiting for yet another change out of her very soggy pampers. As blushy as she could be perpetually in diapers, she had found acceptance, as well as a sense of entitlement. With all the attention that comes from being a big baby. Miss Harriet looked back at the girls, “Bonnie I’m going to have you stand under and hand us what we need to change Baby Cindy, Emily you’ll hop up with me and be my assistant.” Bonnie pouted a bit not getting to be the helper. But Emily was a little bit older and had been working her way out of pullups, unlike Bonnie. So Emily got picked up onto the table. “Hi Baby Cindy, we’re gonna get that soggy diapie off of you!” She giggled. Baby Cindy cooed and rocked more. Miss Harriet then went right to it like every day. She unbuttoned the snaps on Baby Cindy’s onesie, pulling it up and showing her soggy Bunnyhops. Emily giggled at her cute, yellow diapers as she sat on her knees and watched Miss Harriet. “Bonnie! She’s got Bunnies on her diapie!” she called down to Bonnie who giggled and bounced from the side trying to get a peak. Miss Harriet opened up Baby Cindy’s diaper and started to wipe her down. Baby Cindy looked up and started to drift into her baby space, where she usually goes when she’s getting changed. Especially at daycare. Which helped her be less blushy during diaper changes with Junior Nannies. As Miss Harriet wiped down Baby Cindy’s sticky little privates. Emily giggled and asked without a second thought, “Does Baby Cindy like being a girl even when she used to be a boy?” A question that made Baby Cindy blush bright red, unsure if she should say or do anything, just lying helplessly in her open wet diaper. Before she could think anything else, Miss Harriet chirped up “Baby Cindy is the happiest big baby I’ve ever seen, and she’s especially happy to be a baby girl isn’t that right pumpkin?” She tickled Baby Cindy’s tummy and made her wiggle and giggle bunches, making Emily and Bonnie giggle and awww. Answering that question for everyone. Miss Harriet pulled out her wet diaper under her bottom and rolled it up shut. Tying it up and handing it to Emily to put it in Baby Cindy’s diaper pail beside her. As Emily took care of it, Miss Harriet asked for a diaper from Bonnie, who kneeled down and picked up a clean diaper for her. This time a special diaper, brought in from Baby Cindy’s Mommy. A XXXL Bluey huggies made for babies like Cindy. “Ooo great choice” Miss Harriet smiled as she laid down the diaper and slid it under Baby Cindy’s bottom. “Now what am I gonna ask for next” Asked Miss Harriet to Bonnie. Who was already pulling out the baby powder and rash cream. “Wow so smart!” said Miss Harriet. Giggling as she applied some cream onto Baby Cindy’s bottom. She then took the Baby powder bottle and had Emily hold onto it with her as they sprinkled a little over Baby Cindy’s baby bits. Emily beamed as Miss Harriet taped down her diaper and snapped her onesie back over the fresh crinkly huggies. A little pat on the butt signaled to Baby Cindy she was clean. Giving out happy gurgles and smiles behind her paci. “You did such a good job changing Baby Cindy today girls! Let's cheer for them Cindy!” Miss Harriet would clap for them as Cindy joined in, the girls were bouncing and bowing feeling so proud. “Can you say thank you Baby Cindy?” Miss Harriet asked the excited baby, “Thwank wuh” she made out with her paci still in her mouth. Making everyone laugh. Now that she was fresh, Baby Cindy was brought over to her special highchair with Bonnie and Emily in tow. Baby Cindy took a seat with Miss Harriet's help and strapped into her chair, tall enough that her chubby legs dangled from the seat. Bonnie and Emily were brought to her height with an extra seat built into the highchair. “Now girls, I’m gonna have Bonnie help me feed Baby Cindy her lunch ok?” Emily immediately got pouty, “What do I get to do then?” she asked. Miss Harriet ties a big bib around Baby Cindy’s mouth, it reads “Princess Pamper Packer”, she also hands a little cloth to Emily, “You’ll help keep Baby Cindy clean. She can be a messy eater” giving Emily so much joy as she dances in her seat. The girls feed Baby Cindy two jars of big baby food. The thought process around Baby Cindy has become to keep her as the youngest infant she can be. So she’s been without solid food for almost a year now. Her Mommy thinks she is doing just wonderful on a strict formula and baby food diet. Even Baby Cindy has been enjoying it, especially when it’s a special blend Mommy has been making. Giving her yummy different dinners all mushed up in a jar. Or just some regular flavors, to keep her level and not expecting something too exciting for her sensitive tummy. Bonnie feeds Baby Cindy a jar of carrots and peas and a jar of banana strawberry. Baby Cindy fills her cheeks and still chews, feeling it drip down her chin as she doesn’t eat with her mouth closed and having the girls work to get it all in. “Sit still silly!” Emily giggled as Baby Cindy wiggled around as she had her face wiped. Miss Harriet laughs at how much of a handful she was being. One that was thoughtfully watched over by someone as experienced as Miss Harriet. After she’s all fed, Baby Cindy is put back into her stroller and the girls follow behind. “Thank you so much for all your help today, girls. I know Baby Cindy really appreciated it.” The girls giggle and skip back to their class, where they’ll go to have their own lunches. “Goodbye Baby Cindy!” they call out as their teacher brings them back inside. Baby Cindy waves and Miss Harriet kneels down beside her stroller. “Alright Baby Cindy! Are you ready to play with the preschoolers!” She pumps her fists up. Baby Cindy nods and bounces excitedly. Miss Harriet started to push the stroller down the hall and through a door leading outside into the playground. Chapter 5 - Baby Cindy’s Playground PratFall The “LeapFrog” Preschool class had been taken out to the playground following their lunch. Young kids aged 3 to 4 ran around the fenced yard of the building, making up games to play with one another. They were all being watched by a young woman named Miss Carol. As Miss Harriet approached her with Baby Cindy, Miss Carol waved them over. Most of the kids were still playing but others ran over when they saw Baby Cindy getting pushed over. “Welcome Baby Cindy! The kids have been excited for you to join them!” Miss Carol said as Miss Harriet helped Cindy out of the stroller. A couple kids approached Baby Cindy, Patty was an eager little girl bouncing in place with her friend Peter, a more shy little boy. “Miss Harriet, Miss Carol, can Baby Cindy play tag with us?” Patty asked shyly. Miss Harriet nodded, “Sure thing kids, but Baby Cindy can’t always play big kid games well. So if she gets fussy just let me know.” She giggled and patted Baby Cindy’s bottom as the kids took the big baby’s hand as she toddled out onto the grass. Baby Cindy followed obediently, if not a little shy herself, a little shyer around the preschoolers, who were already becoming more advanced than she was. “Okie Baby Cindy, we’re gonna play tag. We're gonna run around and someone is it. Don’t get it or you gotta tag another kid.” Patty explained this to Baby Cindy who was barely listening, looking around at the green grass and screaming toddlers running around the playground and swings. She smiled but didn’t realize that all the kids were running away. She started to toddle around in circles, doing her best to fit in. But was soon tagged by another boy. “Baby Cindy’s it!” the boy yelled out laughing. Baby Cindy saw the boy running away from her. She started waddling after him, but he quickly outran her. She tried chasing other kids but everyone was a little faster than her despite her longer legs, her thick diaper bottom seriously slowing her down in the grass. After a minute or so, Baby Cindy was getting tired of everyone running away. She stopped in her tracks and pouted, sitting in the grass and huffing, a minor temper tantrum compared to what Baby Cindy was capable of. Patty saw Baby Cindy wasn’t having fun and ran back to her, trying to console her, “Awww I’m sorry Baby Cindy, you can tag me if you want?” She kneeled on the grass and rubbed her back. Miss Harriet, having watched everything, started to approach, deciding that for the sake of the other kids, Baby Cindy played something less challenging. Patty raises her hand “I can take Baby Cindy to the sandbox. I don’t mind playing with her.” Miss Harriet pulled out a gold sticker for her. “That’s a great idea sweetie, have fun you two. Make sure she doesn’t put any sand in her diaper.” She giggled as Baby Cindy crawled after Patty in the grass towards the sandbox. Baby Cindy and Patty played around in the sandbox for the next 15 minutes. Patty had picked out some sand buckets and started filling them up to work on a castle. She found a little shovel and gave it to Baby Cindy, “Do you want to build the moat?” she offered as Baby Cindy started digging a hole around the space. The girls worked together and admired their sandy princess castle. “Wow we did so good, Baby Cindy, do you want to live in the castle together?” Patty asked. Baby Cindy cooed and went to sit on the castle, her big diaper bottom smushing the castle and getting her onesie all sandy. Patty giggled a bunch and patted Baby Cindy on the head, giving a big silly smile back. The two bonded playing together quietly, much calmer than most of the other preschooler’s. “Have you played Patty Cake before Baby Cindy?” Patty asked curiously, Baby Cindy cooed remembering playing it before with Sally. Patty smiled and sat in front of her, the two of them clapped hands together and Patty sang to the claps, “Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man, Bake me a cake, as fast as you can; Pat it, prick it, and mark it with B, Put it in the oven for baby and me!’ She gave Baby Cindy a tummy tickle when they finished and made her giggle. “Good job Baby Cindy! What do you wanna do before we go inside?” Patty asked curiously, wanting to let Baby Cindy pick something. Cindy looked around nervously, there were so many fun things to do and she didn’t know what to pick. But when she saw the slide in the jungle gym. She just pointed at it while sucking her paci and Patty understood. “Let’s slide Baby Cindy!” The two joined hands and made their way to the jungle gym. Baby Cindy toddled up the tough stairs, getting in line with Patty as they both waited to slide. Suddenly, Baby Cindy felt a familiar ping in her tummy, clenching as the feeling was a bother, one she knew how to easily get rid of. She started to grunt and push besides Patty. Patty looked over seeing her face scrunch up and started to realize what she was doing with a knowing giggle. Baby Cindy huffed and felt her lunch make its fated return, taking a large, soft poopy plop into the seat of her diaper. It made a small lump on her bottom as she emptied her tummy, Just Patty and her left on the jungle gym. Baby Cindy finished as turned back to Patty, giving her a knowing smile and a little giggle. Patty gave Baby Cindy a pat on the bottom, feeling her mushy lump and giggling more “Hehe, what a good baby.” to Baby Cindy’s soft, appreciative coos towards the positive reinforcement by her new friend. The girls looked from the top of the jungle gym as Miss Carol began to call the kids back inside. Patty quickly jumped down and slid a few feet down to the bottom. Looking back up at her padded playmate. “Come on Baby Cindy, slide down to me!” Baby Cindy looked at the slide and smiled, Getting in position to slide down and falling a bit onto her bottom with a harsh squish as her butt met the contents of her messy diaper, giggling to herself, almost like she did it intentionally. Baby Cindy slid down and joined Patty who gave her a friendly hug, before walking her to the doorway back inside. Miss Harriet followed with the stroller, letting Baby Cindy use her legs with Patty, who was doing a great job of making sure she didn’t leave the baby behind. The two of them entered the classroom and joined the rest of the kids in the middle of the classroom for storytime. Patty walked in holding onto Baby Cindy so they could sit next to each other. Patty could smell Baby Cindy, trying her best not to mind it so she wouldn’t lose her new baby friend. They sat together on the carpet as other kids joined them, leaving some distance between the two. As Miss Harriet walked through the door. It was pretty clear something was up with Baby Cindy and Patty. But the mystery was solved when Peter called out, “Ewwww, Miss Carol! Baby Cindy smells like poop!” Chapter 6 - Baby Cindy’s Poopy Preschool Predicament Miss Carol looked down at the carpet and could see Baby Cindy looking rather shy, along with a suspicious Patty beside her, but it was an unmistakable smell that someone in here had dropped a load into their pants. The suspect list dropped to one being Baby Cindy was the only one in the room still wearing diapers full time. Miss Carol smirked and came up with an idea, happy to make an example of the big baby sitting in her classroom. “Patty, can you bring Baby Cindy up to the front of the class for me please?” she asked Patty. The preschooler walked Baby Cindy to the front beside Miss Carol. Miss Harriet joined her on the side, standing close by the kids and getting a whiff of Baby Cindy’s bulging behind. Miss Carol looked at the class, “Well it smells like someone had a stinky accident huh kids?” she mocked, all the kids nodding and exclaiming “YES!” Baby Cindy looked around shyly with all the eyes on her being so judgmental. Miss Carol turned back to her, “Baby Cindy, did you make poopy on the playground?” Baby Cindy looked back and was so shy. She was used to the act but all the questions made her lose any big kid words she had left. “Patty, you were watching Baby Cindy? Didn’t you notice that she’s so smelly?” Miss Carol quizzed Patty, holding her nose and looking down shyly like she was in trouble. Miss Harriet decided to step in and cooed towards Cindy, placing her hand on her back. “Kids, remember Baby Cindy is still a baby.” she explained earnestly. “Babies like her don’t know when they need to potty like you guys.” More kids giggled and Miss Carol nodded. “Well if you don’t mind Miss Harriet, I want to check Baby Cindy with the class even if she isn’t so sure.” She smiled to more giggles from the crowd. Miss Harriet nodded, respecting what Miss Carol wanted to do and kneeled down next to Patty. “Patty do you wanna help me dear?” Miss Harriet asked her, Patty smiled and agreed. Holding Baby Cindy’s hand as they turned her around for the class. Cindy was suckling her paci and spacing out more as all the attention went to her, and specifically her bottom. Miss Harriet unbuttoned the onesie and pulled it open with a small gasp. “Oh Cindy hunny.” she tsk’d as she opened up the onesie to see a little bit of runny poop pushing out of the leg creases in her diaper. The back of her huggies were shaded a heavy brown, discoloring the dancing Bluey and Bingo palling around over her heinie. The class got really rowdy with giggles and ewws. Pulling up the onesie further showed the mess had crawled up her back and got on her onesie. Baby Cindy had a big blowout on the slide and the class couldn’t handle it. “Ewwww you can see all her poop!” The kids were giggling as Baby Cindy was turned around and blushing at all the noise, looking more shy at all their jeers. Feeling all of their negative energy as she started to well up behind her paci, genuinely not being able to help what the poop did in her diaper. “Now kids can we please go easy on Baby Cindy, it’s not her fault!’ Miss Harriet tried to hush the crowd, rubbing Baby Cindy’s back to calm her down. She sighed, trying to roll some positive in with this particularly embarrassing lesson. She looked to Patty who was blushing standing next to the huggies disaster beside her. “Patty sweetie. Do you know what it’s called when this happens to Baby Cindy?” Patty started to smile and nodded. “Baby Cindy had a diaper blowout Miss Harriet, sometimes my baby sister plays too long in her poopy diapers and then it starts to come out too” she giggled after she finished her sentence. “That’s right. Cindy is a very active baby and her diaper can’t always keep up with her.” Miss Harriet nodded and gave Patty a second star for the day. Not before saying, “And that’s why we need to tell a teacher when she needs a change. So she doesn’t get a rash alright?” Patty nodded bashfully and took her second sticker on her shirt. “Thank you kids for letting me know. I think It’s time Baby Cindy got changed out of this stinky old diaper.” Miss Harriet smiled and tugged Baby Cindy’s onesie back down, but not snapping it back, her full diaper peeking out below, giving it one last pat. “Can I please help Miss Harriet? I’m really good with my sister” asked Patty genuinely. Miss Harriet just chuckled. “I think I’m gonna handle her myself for right now. But maybe next time?” Patty nodded and gave Baby Cindy a pat on her thigh and smiled up. “Have a good changie Baby Cindy” she giggled, Cindy cooed sadly as her new friend sat back with her class. Miss Harriet went behind the stroller and got Baby Cindy’s diaper bag around her arm. She took Cindy’s hand and started leading her into the Preschool bathroom as Miss Carol got the kids attention again with a new story to be read. Baby Cindy waddled into the bathroom and started to head towards the potty to sit down. Miss Harriet held her back, “Sweetie just stand still please. We don’t want you getting your poopy on the big kids potty.” She rubbed her tummy with a smile and placed the diaper bag on the sink. Baby Cindy’s diaper bag was a necessity in most any situation, stocked with everything one could need looking after such a stinky big baby. Miss Harriet pulled out Baby Cindy’s Moana changing pad and rolled it onto the floor of the bathroom. “Come come, stand here please” she patted the floor and Baby Cindy waddled on top of it. Miss Harriet took off Baby Cindy’s Bonnet and set it aside, she pulled up her onesie and tossed it on the floor for now, it didn’t stand a chance against a Baby Cindy Blowout. In just her very smelly huggies, Baby Cindy sucked her paci and hugged her body. Looking down as Miss Harriet untapped her diaper and gently brought it to the ground. A big swath of brown covered the inside of the diaper, with plenty left around Baby Cindy’s waist. She had successfully caked herself in her own mess after the bumpy slide ride. Miss Harriet sighed a little and looked up at Baby Cindy, finding her smile again saying, “You can be quite the handful baby girl.” She chuckled as she started to use some baby wipes to clean off Cindy's mushy bottom. Baby Cindy felt her soft touch wiping her off, feeling cleaner as Miss Harriet worked through, wiping down her little privates, feeling them flinch a little at her touch but barely growing by any noticeable measure. “Patty looked like she really liked playing with you sweetheart.” she cooed. Putting down the last wipe as she spun Baby Cindy around to make sure she was clean from all her mess. Baby Cindy smiled, feeling less yucky and also cooing at her words. “So many of the girls love being able to help take care of babies, and you’re really the best baby I’ve ever seen Baby Cindy” she kept gushing to her as she balled up the messy diaper and put that on the side of the stinky onesie. She helped Baby Cindy down onto the changing mat, reaching into the diaper bag and pulling out a fresh Tykables Unicorn for her. “I’ve looked after a lot of babies hun, and I’ve never met one as obedient, darling, and quite as adorable as you Baby Cindy.” She pulled open the diaper and laid it down, scooting Baby Cindy up and sitting her back into the fresh crinkles. “Plus growing up is good and well for the other kids, but babies as special as you deserve to stay that perfect forever.” She cooed, rubbing Baby Cindy’s privates and bottom in diaper rash cream and adding a sprinkling of baby powder, filling Baby Cindy’s nose with all her favorite nice smells. “So don’t ever worry about making lots of pee pee and poo poo’s in your diaper baby for me. Because I’ll always be around to change them” Miss Harriet taped up her diaper and gave her a gentle tummy rub. Seeing Baby Cindy’s confident smile behind her paci as proof she was good as new. Baby Cindy sat up on the changing mat and bounced softly. Hearing the familiar crinkles of a clean diaper. Miss Harriet leaned over to peck Baby Cindy’s forehead. “All clean!” She smiled as she stood up and put the changing supplies back into the diaper bag. “Now we need to get you a new outfit Princess!” She looked down as the happy baby, rocking gently on the floor in her diapers and sketchers. Miss Harriet’s eyes lit up as she pulled out Baby Cindy’s spare onesie. A sparkly pink onesie with princess dress prints along the chest and tummy. Complete with poofy sleeves, back ribbon, and ruffles on the butt, it certainly made a statement for the wearer. “How darling!” Miss Harriet giggled as she showed Baby Cindy, who cooed happily at her new onesie. Mommy told her Sally picked it out for Baby Cindy’s birthday, and it was one of Sally’s favorites for her sister. She cooed and lifted her arms as Miss Harriet pulled the onesie over her head, bringing Cindy up and snapping the crotch and fixing out the frilly Princess outfit. “I don’t think that’s all” Miss Harriet smiled as she pulled out the final pieces for Baby Cindy’s outfit. A poofy bonnet with green gems on the brim. “I swear no one works a bonnet like you Baby Cindy.'' Miss Harriet giggled as she tied it around Baby Cindy's head. Next was a bedazzled pacifier, Baby Cindy felt her old paci replaced as well as a new frilly paci clip attached to the front. Last but not least was a little rattle toy, blinged out like a scepter fit for a baby. “Wowwe, you look like the most regal crinkler I’ve ever met Baby Princess Cindy!” Miss Harriet turned Baby Cindy around and showed her. She looked like the most frilly, fanciest baby who ever lived! With so many different odds and ends, Baby Cindy sucked her paci with her usual grin, not sure what else to do in the moment but bouncing around all excited. Miss Harriet folded up the messy onesie and put it in the diaper bag with everything else. She picked up the messy diaper in one hand and Baby Cindy's free hand with the other. Taking her out of the bathroom just as the preschooler’s were getting ready for naptime. “OH MY GOSH LOOK AT BABY CINDY” Patty screamed. All of the kids looked over and got a big reaction out of Baby Princess Cindy. A mix of oos, aahs, and giggles for sure as Baby Cindy was led into her stroller and smiled back at the other kids, shaking her rattler to more giggles. “Can we please play with her later!” Patty asked from her mat up at Miss Harriet, giving Baby Cindy the most glassy eyes in awe. “I’m sorry hunny, I gotta take Baby Cindy back to the nursery for her nap. She still needs to sleep in a crib. But she’ll certainly be back another day” Miss Harriet explained empathetically to the kids. “Now say bye-bye Baby Cindy” she called out, “BYE-BYE BABY CINDY!” They all spoke in unison. Cindy gave everyone a wave with her rattler as she was turned around and pushed out the door by Miss Harriet, leaving the kids to their nap. Baby Cindy and Miss Harriet made it back into the Nursery as naptime was already in progress. The blinds were pulled down and the infants were sleeping on floor mats, a few others taking cribs in the back. That was where Baby Cindy was heading. Baby Cindy was brought over to the crib area, where her specialty plush crib was set up among other smaller regular ones. “Wow, we're being visited by royalty today in the Caterpillar room huh?” giggled Miss Lauren. Getting a smile from Miss Harriet and Cindy. Miss Harriet unstrapped Baby Cindy and opened up the crib for her to climb into. Baby Cindy got on her back and the bars were pulled up. She saw Jessa, a pink poodle, one of Baby Cindy’s favorite nursery stuffies still in her crib. Snuggling it in her arms and giggling. Miss Harriet smiled back at her through the bars and pulled out an apple juice bottle cut with water for Baby Cindy. “Sweet dreams Princess” she smiled and gave her one last tummy tickle before walking away and letting the sweet nursery music play. Baby Cindy took a few sips of her bottle before she was lulled to sleep.

All characters are adults. This is a work of fiction, not necessarily set in the real world. Every time your criticize online fetish erotica for being unrealistic, a fairy gets tax audited. The rest of the car ride was quiet, but not in a good way. Every little shift in someone’s seat, every bump on the road, every red light, even driving straight on a smooth road with light traffic—everything reverberated around the minivan’s interior. Anger and shame echoed off the glass. The click of the turn signal was deafening. And whenever another car pulled next to us at an intersection and either one of us made incidental eye contact with other drivers, the emotion in the car would somehow intensify. I would start tearing up again, but I dared not sob or sniffle my nose—that would only make things worse. My runny eyes and runny nose had already dripped down my face and on to my Sesame Street shirt and the straps of my overalls, but that was hardly the worst mess in my outfit. Lower down, my entire bottom was completely soaked; I’d wet my pants in the car. The wetness had dribbled down to my shoes and wicked up to the lower part of my shirt. My car seat was full of my naughty pee-pees, and I could almost feel it slosh around as we wove around traffic. It was cold now. The little toy mirror attached to my seat had somehow gotten pointed down, and a glance displayed a little baby who couldn’t hold on to use the potty like a big boy, and I just felt like crying again. And worst of all, I could already feel my tummy rumbling, and I would need the potty again soon. I’d never had a poopy accident before, but how could I possibly ask mommy for help now? I had hoped she would calm down during the car ride, but one shared glance in the rear-view mirror showed that wasn’t going to happen. Would I have have two accidents today?! Mercifully, we reached the driveway of our house. Unmercifully, mommy did not pull all the way into the garage. Instead, she parked outside, turned off the car, and turned around to face me. “I can’t believe you’ve had another accident! That’s the fourth time this week you went pee-pee in your nice clothes, and I have to get you cleaned up and clean up the mess you made! And all the bedwetting! Big boys use the potty! They don’t have accidents! Only babies do! Are you a baby?” Mommy’s upbraiding got me crying again. In between wails, I tried to say, “I’m sorry mommy!” but nothing intelligible came out. “I’ve had it with you! I don’t know a single other 34 year old who can’t control themselves. I know you’re big enough to hold your potties. So you must just be doing this to make mommy mad! Is that it?” I continued crying. “Well mission accomplished! So now I’m going to march you into the house, in broad daylight in front of all the neighbors so they can see what a little baby my supposed husband is, and you can stand in the naughty corner while I clean up your car seat.” With that, mommy pressed the button to open the sliding car door while she got out and stomped around the front. Reaching the door, she leaned over me and unbuckled my car seat, getting a real good view of how much I’d peed. “I guess you shouldn’t have had all that juice this morning, huh? Now get out.” I gingerly climbed out of the car and on to the pavement. Some of my cold pee-pee dribbled further down my pants, making me shiver. Now march! Double time! I waddled up the driveway, leaving bid wet footprints behind me. The neighbors were indeed getting an eyefull, watching the woman next door push her pathetic husband into the house with wet pants. What a loser! Mommy led me over to the corner of the living room, the naughty corner, to wait in time out. But then my tummy made another rumble, and I remembered that I still had to go poopy. “Mommy wait! I needa go potty!” “Oh no you don’t, mister! You’re not going to wiggle out of corner time that easily! Your ‘potties’ are all over your clothes and car seat, so I know that’s a lie!” “But mommy…” “No buts! If you so much as budge from that corner, you’re going to get the spanking of a lifetime!” And with that, mommy swooped right out of the room back outside to the driveway, leaving me in the corner. Pants full of pee. Shirt covered in tears and boogies. And a tummy full of poo-poo that really needed to come out. And so I started holding again. The wait dragged on as my tummy growled louder and louder, begging for relief. After a while, I could hear the car door close and the remote lock beep, and I could tell mommy was done cleaning and I could leave time out soon! I was gonna make it! But then I heard voices outside. It was Mrs. Whiting next door. She and mommy had stopped to talk! Oh no! I can’t hold on! “Mommy!” I shouted, the strain causing a little bit of poopy to poke out of my tushy. No answer. My strength giving out, my knees started to buckle, and I involuntarily squatted down. With my last little bit of strength, I squeezed as hard as my could for about a second, then a little fart escaped. My exhausted tushy fell limp, and I felt a real big poopy slide out. It felt firm at first as it shoved out of my body, but got squishy as it dropped into the bottom of my underpants and stretched it out. Another fart, then a second poopy came out, softer than the first. The sensations of all that yucky poopie squishing against me, the loud farting, and stink of my accident was all too much, and I started crying again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, snot was oozing from my nose, and more pee-pee flowed into my pants as I started wetting again. I stood there and wailed for what felt like hours. During a break in my sobs, I could feel there was third wave of poopy inside me, blocked by the pile already sitting in my pants. I just wanted it out, so I squatted down some more and pushed. Another small squirt of pee came out, and then a glob of very mushy poop burst out of my… “Oh my god, you are not serious!” During all my crying, I hadn’t noticed mommy had come back in and was standing in the doorway. She saw her crying husband with a fresh puddle around his feet, squatting down and pooping his pants. “Now you’re messing yourself?!” I didn’t answer with any words, just a fresh round of crying. My face was purple now. I lightly stomped my feet, and a small piece of poopie dripped down my leg. Mommy swooped in, grabbed my by the ear, and whisked me upstairs. I wailed all the way into the bathroom. I wailed the whole time mommy swiped off my soggy shoes, my cold socks, my stained shirt, my dripping overalls, and finally, my wet and poopy underpants, slipping down my legs and landing on the floor with a thump. I stood naked in the bathroom, shivering with cold and fear. I knew what was coming. Mommy silently emptied my messy underwear into the toilet and put the rest of my clothes in the special hamper we have for my accident clothes. She also took a wet-wipe from the counter and gave my tush a cursory wipe, confirming the dread punishment I was in for. She turned on the bathtub faucet to let it fill, took the special hairbrush from the counter, lowered the toilet seat cover, sat down, and looked dead at me. “Come here.” “Please mommy, I’ll try harder! I won’t poop my pants again, I promise!” “I said, come here!” Quivering with pathetic fear, I gingerly walked over to mommy, and knelt down over her lap. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I had a potty accident in my pants.” Tears were coming again. I put my hands behind my back. Without warning, mommy grabbed my two crossed wrists and began spanking. I started bucking and wailing as blows rained down on my reddening cheeks, mommy berating me with every stroke: “BIG! BOYS! DON’T! WET! Their PANTS! They USE! The POTTY! ONLY! BABIES! WET! And POOP! Their PANTS! ONLY! BABIES! CRY! STUPID! CRYING! PISSY! STINKY! BABY!” The room was awash in noise with mommy’s shouting, my crying, and the water faucet’s roar. It wasn’t until I cried so hard that I started choking on my own sobs that mommy finally relented. As suddenly as they began, the blows stopped and I was told to stand up again. Mommy put the brush away and turned the faucet off. She tested the water temperature, and motioned for me to get in. I gingerly lowered myself into the water, wincing as my red tushy touched the water. I sat down and just tried to catch my breath. I felt drained from everything that had happened, and I could only flop around limply while mommy took a bath sponge and started soaping me up. “I’m going to mark two accidents on your potty chart today. Do you know how many days this week you’ve been accident-free?” I shook my head no. “Just once, four days ago. And that’s only because I was being nice.” I remembered that trip to the potty. I had already dribbled a lot by the time I made it to the training potty in the hallway, and my underpants had a silver-dollar-sized wet spot on them. It sure felt like an accident, especially once I was finished and had to pull my cold underpants back up. And then, wet pants and tears three days in a row, finished off with a big poopy mess. “And you’re wetting the bed every night, too! That’s why you’re so tired and cranky during the day.” Mommy’s voice was softening. What did she mean? “I think someone’s not quite ready for big boy pants, hm?” Mommy took the shower spray and got my hair wet, then started massaging in shampoo. “If you can’t use the potty like a big boy, then the only solution is for you to start wearing your diapers again.” Oh no! Not that! Please! I’m not a baby! I’ll be good! I wanted to scream and thrash in the tub, but I was too tired, and all that came out was a moaned, “Noooo…” “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re still too little.” She started spraying the shampoo out of my hair. “If you can’t hold your pee-pees and poopies for the big boy potty, then you’re just going to have to wear diapers for all your accidents.” “No, no, no, no, no…” My moan was now barely a mutter. Everything inside me was gone. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t use the potty… I really was just a baby! Mommy pulled the plug in the bathtub and started toweling me off, even while I softly blubbered. “I think you’re going to need a nap once I get your diaper on.” “Noooo naaaap!” “I’m getting mighty sick of hearing you whine ‘no’ over and over again. Now lets go get your baby pants on, unless you just want to stand here naked all day? You want that? You want to make mommy mad?” Still quietly sobbing, I shuffled over toward my bedroom, if you could call it that. More like a nursery. Mommy wouldn’t let me sleep with her anymore since I kept wetting the bed, and that was usually where Mister Robert slept when he stayed over, so there was no room for me. I slept and took naps in the guest room instead, which mommy had decorated with teddy bear and train decals on the walls, and Sesame Street or Pup Patrol bedsheets, whichever set wasn’t in the washing machine, on the bed (along with an uncomfortable plastic sheet). Toddler toys and stuffed animals were strewn around the floor, and there was still a faint smell of pee-pee in the air from previous nights’ accidents. Once she ushered me into the room and closed the door, she walked over to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of milk. Silently, she put in the bottle warmer sitting on top, then strode over to the closet and retrieved an unopened bag of diapers (she’d bought them to threaten me a week ago), a big beach towel, and a small bag I’d never seen before. All with a kind of scary efficiency, she unfurled the towel on the floor and set the diapers and bag down next to it. She turned to me with a cold look. “Lay down.” “Please, mommy…” She looked at her once-husband, still softly sobbing, cheeks wet with tears, a fresh coating of snot bubbling out of my nose and down over my mouth and down my chin, clutching a towel over my shoulders, shivering, my little pee-pee shriveled up even more than usual… A one-time junior law partner reduced to something so… “Pathetic,” she muttered. “I said, lay down.” “But I don’ wanna…” “LAY DOWN FOR YOUR DIAPER OR I SWEAR…” I crept a little closer, and then mommy grabbed my arm and, somehow without throwing me, quickly put me on my back on the makeshift changing pad, almost pinning me. She opened the plastic bag of diapers, pulled one out and started fluffing it, making sure I got a good look at the design. It was decorated with baby circus animals, each wearing its own diaper, and a few with pacifiers, baby bottles, rattles, and other infantile things. Once she was done fluffing, she opened it wide. “Lift your butt, diaper boy.” I never stopped sobbing. I obeyed and lifted my hips slightly, and mommy slid my diaper under me. Reaching into the mysterious bag, she then produced a bottle of baby powder and started sprinkling its snow all over my little pee-pee and tushy, rubbing it in with her other hand. I was embarrassed, but I liked the scent. Finally, she folded my diaper up over me, its cushioned stuffing hugging all my potty parts, and fastened the tapes. The whole time, she muttered, “Can’t use the toilet, can’t use the plastic potty in the hall, can’t hold his piss in the car, and now can’t hold his poop. Baby diapers it is.” The whole time, I just kept crying. “I’ll have to get a changing table for you, so I don’t have to bend over on the floor.” Once I was taped up, she got up and went to my dresser to get a new shirt. I sat up and looked at the puffy, crinkly diaper bulging between my legs. Every time I moved, the plastic crackled like firecrackers. I gingerly reached down to feel the plastic… “NO! You may not remove your diapers! Understand?” She lightly smacked my hand. “Now stand up.” I got up from the towel, trying to adjust my stance for all the padding between my legs. As I steadied myself, a long string of snot dripped down from my nose onto the towel. “Ugh, gross,” mommy said in disgust. She reached down back into the bag and got a pack of baby wipes. She took one and started roughly wiping my face down, removing the tears and snot. “You’re just a mess on both ends, aren’t you? Now arms up.” I complied, and she brought down a clean t-shirt over my head, one that had “BABY” in toy blocks printed on the front, and was just a little short, leaving my diaper on full display. “Now get into bed for your nap. Your bottle should be ready now.” I mournfully shuffled over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. Even after washing, there was still a dingy yellow stain there from repeated wettings, a reminder of why I was in the predicament. As I laid down, mommy came over with a warm bottle… and Jake. Jake was my best friend. He never yelled at me when I had accidents. He never called me stupid or smelly. He was always ready to give me hugs and comfort me. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. I was so grateful Jake would stay with me for my nap. I reached out for him and clutched him close. “Now drink this. Maybe then you’ll calm down.” I was reluctant, since I wasn’t thirsty, and I was worried I’d wet the bed again if I drank anything. I shook my head no. “Well if you’re going to nap without your bottle, maybe you can nap without Jake.” I squeezed Jake tighter and moaned. “Then open up.” I opened my mouth a little and mommy slid the nipple in. Without thinking, I started suckling, and the warm milk started squirting out into my mouth, down my throat, and into my tummy. Mommy gently guided my free hand over the bottle and helped me grasp it, then pulled up the sheets. “Now don’t get out of bed until I tell you, and don’t try to take off your diaper. Just drink your bottle, and I’ll do some laundry.” With that, she turned off the lights, left the room, and closed the door. I kept suckling my bottle on autopilot while I looked at my situation. I was back in diapers, and I didn’t know how long until mommy let me try to potty train. I reached down under the blankie and felt the plastic covering my pee-pee. I knew I wouldn’t get the bed all wet, but I was still sad I couldn’t be a big boy anymore. I took the bottle out of my mouth and turned to Jake. “Can I still be a big boy?” I listened to Jake’s answer, then I responded. “I guess so. Mommy knows best.” I kept suckling the warm milk out of the bottle until it was all done. I was so sleepy from all the chaos that’d happened. Just as it was empty, I let the bottle fall from my mouth and hugged Jake tighter. At least I was warm. Warm from the milkies, warm from my blankie, warm from Jakie, and warm in my diapie… Did I just have another accident? I fell asleep before I could answer.

Jessie pounded on the sorority house door, fighting back the furious tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. Her feet were sore and her legs ached from walking, but her dignity had been hurt far more. The girls of Delta Lambda had accepted her as a pledge–or, that’s what they’d promised. Jessie had expected a little hazing. Maybe a hand in a bowl of peeled grapes and telling her it was eyeballs, or having her do shots and flash some boys at a party, something harmless and a bit fun in hindsight. The girls hadn’t gone for ‘harmless fun’, they’d gone for a social torpedo. ‘All the pledges have to run through the campus fountain naked,’ they’d said, but while Jessie stripped, the others had stolen her clothes, leaving behind only a diaper and a crop-cut T-shirt that barely came down enough to cover her nipples, though the top half of a teddy bear could still be distinguished above the cut line. Then they’d abandoned her, declaring she could have her clothes when she got back to the house. Jessie had been left with an awful choice–put on the humiliating granny diaper, or attempt to streak the four miles between the fountain and the sorority house. She’d gone with the diaper, but on a Friday night, that still meant being seen by probably the entire student body and then some as she trudged back, holding off tears. And now they weren’t letting her in. “Pledge, you forgot to run through the fountain!” one of the sisters taunted through the window. “You have to go back and do it right!” “Asshole!” Jessie yelled back. “Let me in!” Instead of replying, the girl just raised her phone, snapping a picture of Jessie before she could try and hide her obvious diaper. “I wonder what Jamie will think of this?” She laughed sarcastically as she name-dropped Jessie’s boyfriend. “I bet this’ll finally convince him you’re third base material, huh?” Eyes widening, Jessie shook her head, raising a hand in protest. “Don’t send that!” “Sent!” the girl declared. “If you want your clothes–and your phone–back, go do the fountain run. You know the rules, pledge.” Anger rising, Jessie snapped, “I wish–” “Don’t care,” she replied, cutting her off with an eye roll. And with that she wandered away, leaving Jessie on the stoop, alone, humiliated, and defeated. She could try and walk back to her dorm, but it would be even further than the fountain, and her keys were still in her pants, locked inside the sorority house. Maybe someone would lend her a phone, but she didn’t want to go asking strangers for help–she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. “Tsk, tsk–this just won’t do at all.” The tiny voice came from right behind Jessie, and she turned in alarm, expecting someone to be standing right on the front walk, but she saw nobody. She did, however, feel a prodding sensation down at the seat of her diaper. “We can do so much better than this!” Jessie yelped and stepped forward, whirling again, and this time she saw her: Not even six inches tall, with iridescent butterfly wings, the pixie wore a simple blouse and long skirt with an apron over the ensemble. Jaw falling open, Jessie searched for words but found none. “Those mean girls just don’t understand,” the pixie said, shaking her head and frowning as she took a toothpick-sized wand from her apron’s pocket. “But don’t worry–I’m here to make sure that no Little Girls will ever have to hide what they are!” (What? ‘Little Girl?’ Is she talking about me?) Jessie wondered, but before she could ask the question aloud, the pixie flicked her want. With a burst of starry sparkles, magic burst into life, splashing against the front of Jessie’s diaper and dousing it with color. The plain white plastic poofed out like popcorn, doubling in thickness in an eyeblink, and the thin blue stripes and medical aesthetic were replaced with pinks and purples, a design dominated by a cutesy rabbit. “I–hey!” Jessie blurted, hands lowering to try and cover the infinitely more embarrassing diaper. She looked around, but her tormentor at the window had left. “What the heck?” “Oh, do you prefer the lions?” the pixie asked, tilting her head and tapping her wand against her lips. “You know, you Adult Babies have it easy these days–it wasn’t too long ago, you’d have to settle for solid colors if you got any designs at all! Now–that top, it’s just no good, is it?” Jessie’s eyes widened as she tried to understand what the pixie meant. (Adult Babies? What is she talking about?) Before any further objections could be raised, she flicked the star wand again, and the cut-off tee shirt spooled out, threading itself into a new form–it laced over her diaper and between her legs, metal buttons snapping snugly over her new, far thicker diaper. Jessie looked down at herself, eyes widening. Her outfit was infinitely worse–at least the crop top could claim to have a little sex appeal, but the bright pink onesie had rainbows and unicorns printed all across it, and over her uniquely puffy bottom, glittery ruffles poofed into existence as the finishing touch. She gaped, turning to try and get a look at the ruffles, spinning in place for a few steps. “Stop it!” she yelped. “I don’t want any of this baby crap!” The pixie rolled her eyes and sighed in a good natured way. “Sweetie, just because those other girls tease you doesn’t mean you should hide who you are–but if you won’t allow yourself to be yourself, I’ll happily give you a little nudge in that direction!” Flitting around Jessie, she tapped her wand right over the woman’s onesie-covered tummy, and the magic kicked in immediately. Jessie felt sudden warmth burst into her diaper as her bladder drained without warning, quickly soaking into the thirsty padding. She lowered her hands to cover her crotch, though the onesie did an admirable job of hiding the accident. The snaps even prevented much in the way of diaper sag, but while it could hide her accidents, it couldn’t prevent them. Even as she bent to try and conceal her humiliating clothes, she felt a gurgling in her belly. When she tried to clench, Jessie found she had no control, and so she couldn’t stop herself from immediately pushing out the contents of her bowels into the diaper. Her attempts to stop the accident only emphasized how helpless she’d become, unable to stem the tide of gross mush that swelled against her skin. She blushed, her cheeks feeling almost as warm as her saturated diaper, humiliation building as the back of her diaper bulged and grew heavy, enough that even her onesie struggled a bit, stretching and succumbing to the telltale sag that indicated a dirty diaper to observant onlookers. “You–you little imp!” Jessie snarled, raging at the fairy. “I don’t hate this just because they’re teasing me! Why can’t you just do what I want you to do? I don’t. Like. Diapers!” “If you don’t, then why did you put one on for everyone to see? Someone’s knee-deep in denial, I think!” The pixie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot, though since hovered like a hummingbird, the taps just fell on thin air. “A certain Little Girl sure is being fussy. I’d normally think it’s because she needs a change, but she was like this before, so maybe she just needs to relax a bit and get off her feet.” Jessie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, no–” But the spell was already cast, and her knees wobbled like jelly as the pixie stole her balance. Falling back, she plopped down onto the ground, landing on her ruffled diaper seat with a mucky squish that made her blush increase in intensity. “A little rest will do you good, and if you need to get around, you can have fun crawling, Littles always like that,” the fairy cooed. “And I must say–you’re much cuter like th–” “Put me back!” Jessie demanded, mortified, worried that one of the sorority sisters might snap another photo of her like this. Spread-legged on the ground, in a diaper full enough to strain the snaps on her baby doll onesie, she would give anything to make sure nobody got a photo of this. “Before someone sees!” “Oh, fuss, fuss, fuss.” The fairy flicked her wrist casually, and a pacifier appeared between Jessie’s lips, one that was specially sealed so that only a grown up could remove it. She grumbled into it, face screwing up in petulant anger, but the fairy ignored her, scratching her chin in thought. “Okay, she’s clearly upset–but what else could a Little want? I’ve given her all the general fantasies, so…” A few giggles echoed from behind the sorority house door, and the fairy–invisible to everyone but Jessie–snapped her fingers as she understood. Floating down to hover in front of Jessie’s teary, humiliated, and particularly angry face, the fairy said, “I know what it is, sweetie–you’re embarrassed, because you don’t want the other girls to see what a cute baby you are. But, don’t worry, I’m going to fix all of this.” Jessie started to relax, until she added, “Let’s just clear up all those nasty big girl thoughts, okay?” “Nnmmph!” Jessie blabbered into her pacifier, too late to stop a spark of magic from tapping her right between the eyes, and… (Um…) (Why was I cranky?) Jessie blinked a few times, a thin line of drool trickling out from behind her pacifier guard. She looked up at the fairy, eyes slightly hazed. She was a bit cold, but not terribly. Her diaper felt nice and warm and squishy, and her pacifier helped her calm down a bit. Something smelled, but it didn’t bother her terribly much, she just needed… (What do I need?) “Alright, little one,” the fairy said. “I have one more thing to take care of–and remember, magic is real, and wishes for Little Girls do come true!” With a puff of glitter, she darted off into the night, leaving Jessie alone. She still felt her heart pound with anxiety, but couldn’t place why. (I don’t gotta potty, I…the diapers…my diapers make sure I’m safe!) (Um…) (I’m so pretty, pink is such a nice color!) But, if she liked everything about herself–her diaper, her pacifier, her onesie–why did she still feel worried? She sniffled, uncertain why she felt like she might cry, but before her unfamiliar emotions overwhelmed her, she saw something blue. (I like blue!) It wasn’t just any old blue thing though, it was a blue car. A big blue car that could go really fast! Maybe she could sit on Daddy’s lap and he’d let her turn the steering wheel– (Oh! Daddy!) Jamie got out of the driver’s side, eyes widening when he saw her sitting on the ground. “Jessie?” he called, quickly running over to her, crouching by her side. “Shh, baby, it’s okay–Daddy’s here.” She giggled, opening her arms for a hug. More than just hugging her, Jamie scooped her up, lifting Jessie off the ground. He was strong, and she was light enough to always get picked as the flier on the cheer squad, so he hefted her easily, one hand cradling the seat of her diaper. “Smells like someone needs a freshie,” he said, giving her bottom a playful squeeze. “We’ll get that taken care of soon, okay?” Jessie squirmed happily–this was what she’d been missing. Her boyfriend–her daddy, here to take care of her. Carrying her to his car, Jamie paused by the door, removing the pacifier from between Jessie’s lips. “Who’s my lovely little baby girl?” he asked, cooing at her. She could have answered with words, but she knew a better way. Leaning up, she kissed him, and he held her close as he kissed her back. In the distance, a diminutive fairy watched, smiling at the scene, content with how she’d handled it. Though noone was around to hear, she whispered to herself, a quiet affirmation. “Another happy ending.” There were more and more little girls every night, it seemed–and she would give them all what they wanted, just like she had with Jessie. ... Written for bricks66 Comments and feedback always appreciated! Hey y'all, I could use a favor! gofund.me/37aecafd I'm raising money to help a friend and ABDL colleague of mine move after finding out she's going to be out of job and home soon. Let's show her some love, ok? I normally try and promote my own work here, but right now I want to make sure that another author and cool person in the community is taken care of. ❤️

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."

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

Bailey was the stereotypical socialite who never spent a day in her life wanting for anything. She grew up raised by a dozen nannies, being cooked for and cleaned up after and spoiled absolutely rotton. Her father was heartbroken after his wife died in childbirth, so he did his best to give her the best life possible... Only without any real lessons in humility or compassion. When her father died of a heart attack, she was the sole inheritor of his estate, and suddenly the twenty five year old princess became the Queen! She didn't have to work a day in her life. She went out partying every night, spending a ridiculous amount of money on drinks and clothes and male escorts. She also made sure to keep up a good staff team as to make sure she never had to touch a dirty dish or fold a shirt. Her most trusted companion (read, basically an indentured servant), Anya, was so sad by the girl's development into this horrible person... She wished so badly that she could do something, but she needed the job! She couldn't survive in such an expensive city without basically doing whatever she was commanded. It was hard to be a live in maid... Anya thought that this night would be the same as any other, with her Mistress (Anya wasn't allowed to call her anything else) commanding her to run a bath, pick out pajamas, and make her dinner... But her Mistress came home looking a little flustered! She had a bad encounter that night, and if scared her a bit, even though it should have been just hocus pocus! "Welcome home Mistress... Is everything alright?" Alice asked softly, hoping not to incur her wrath.