Search the Community

Phoebe was a 28 year old who had recently finished her PhD in Economics. After doing that she bought herself a condo in a decent sized suburban city and really wanted to focus more on her personal life after so much time in school. She taught a handful of classes online to support herself. One thing Phoebe had always been into was the ab/dl scene... though she'd never really done much in person, she had always imagined what it would be like to have a girl or boy of her own in diapers. It got her excited anytime she thought about it. She would love to take care of someone like that, but also found a thrill in the idea of taking an otherwise normal adult and trying to turn them into her baby. Phoebe decided she would try to enact her fantasy on her soon to be roommate, 19 year old Erin. She had met Erin once, when Erin came by to see the place. Erin seemed to her like a bit of a keep to herself type...she was a bit below average height and pretty thin. Phoebe could tell Erin wasn't much of a girly girl but something about her made Phoebe think she might just be the right 'type'. Though Phoebe literally knew almost nothing about her. Phoebe had decided to start with a few bold moves on day one to really get an idea of if Erin could be her little girl. It was 5pm and Phoebe knew Erin would be arriving soon. Phoebe told Erin the room would be fully furnished so she figured Erin wouldn't have much to move in. Phoebe was taller, about average build but decently busty...she was in light wash jeans and a casual loose fitting top that exposed a shoulder. Her hair was dark brown and medium length back in a ponytail.

After completing the Book “There’s a Baby in My Bed” I started thinking about me personally, And my relationship with my wife and wondered if anyone had seen or stumbled across a tool / survey ... something to help shape the “Profile” process the book suggests. In my my head I picture it as a survey that allows us, the regressor, infant, toddler, diapered one, to work through and seperats out what is actually there, and what might just be on our mind at that moment. Then from the same questions, our significant other/caretakers can answer and dialogue as well to create a well rounded profile of who we are and what our actual desires are, who our person(s) is, our identity.

(this is the first roleplay that I do. I hope we will have fun together) Mike is a 6 year old boy who is abandoned by his parents in the house of his aunt. He is a capriccious boy and even a little spoiled and his aunt will have to put him back in line.

The Calibeen saga is a series of stories - Audrey & Staycee, Lottie, and Velvet - that follow the events of a correctional reformatory, intent on making the worst people into the best. In as little as a year, patients leave the institution with a 0% reoffender rate. But how do they do it? These stories can be read in any order. Lottie Velvet Audrey & Staycee was one of our first stories together, and it's widely considered our best work. It delves into the structure of the Calibeen institution and everything that goes on there. Pudding is always so imaginative and extreme, but A&S really showcases her ability at world building. And I did a pretty good job with the plot: mysterious, dark, intense, and includes a LOT of diapers! A&S is an all-in-one package for a hardcore diaper story, and we really hope you give it a look! To adhere to DD's story regulations about underage characters and sexual situations, this version of A&S is censored a little bit. There's a few flashbacks wherein a main character is only sixteen. As writers, Pudding and I know "sex" and "sixteen" pretty much go hand in hand, but we understand and agree with DD's decision to distance underage and ABDL content. Our story integrity is not above the integrity of the community. For this thread, we worked hard to remove the offending scenes while still preserving the complicated themes in play. Any time we censored content, you'll see "~~~CUT~~~". Filling in the blanks isn't that hard. But if you are curious nonetheless... A complete, uncensored version of the entire story can be found HERE! Thanks everyone for your constant support. Leave comments! ~Sophie ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUDREY & STAYCEE by: Sophie & Pudding PHASE THREE Part I: The First Day These rooms were so much more… me. No brightly colored walls, no wallpaper, no white furniture. Just a beautifully decorated room with a light blue accent wall - a bit lighter than my color - and adorned with furniture complimenting the white painted wooden canopy bed. I knew I'd be sharing it, but it was still so spacious - at least twice the size of my room as a Second! I peeked into the closet, finding two sets of clothing - my blue and someone else's yellow. I fiddled with the drawers, looking through the makeup and nail polishes, of hair bows instead of ribbons, barrettes, and so many beautiful things. I was so eager. Phase Three would be so much better than One and Two - no diapers, no babysitting. I was finally grown up, on my way to a better life. I wasn't sure when my conditioning would start, but I was eager to purge myself of some of the more annoying habits, like how I still sucked my thumb. But my thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and a beautiful auburn-haired girl walking in. I quickly climbed off the bed, bouncing over to meet her. She was a few inches taller than me, but it wasn't uncommon - I was always a short boy. "Hi, I'm Audrey. I guess we're roommates." "Uhhuh." I flopped down in the canopy bed, eyes taking in the bedroom in awe with a wide smile. This was so much lovelier than being a Second! I expected it would be, though. I mean. As Seconds we shared the same rooms we had as Firsts, we just got to be in charge. Adelaide had been a wonderful First; she'd actually been eager for the process and had ranked first in her group to graduate, which had left me without a First for much of my time as a Second. But I was okay with it! It just gave me more time to focus on being the best. I liked to be the best. I was a very competitive person. "I'm Staycee. Whatcha in for?" Firsts mostly didn't talk about what they'd done; probably out of shame - I was that way, anyway. Something about the time I'd spent with Adelaide just really opened my eyes, though; no matter what happened now, I'd never be that person, never be capable of those things ever again. So why be ashamed? Retelling the stories now were just… well… stories. I was a good girl, now. We all were. The girl - Audrey? - she was absolutely darling, a big smile and hopeful, optimistic eyes; I couldn't work out if she'd had any adjustments in Second beyond the Softening - she didn't have the telltale needle pricks by her ears, though, so I had to figure it was just natural beauty. And that made me smile. "I robbed a bank." It was my standard tell-tale lie. I didn't want to lie to Staycee, but I also didn't want to get into it - it just made me sad and it was supposed to be a happy day. "Or tried to rob it, anyway… if I'd robbed it, I wouldn't be here." I liked Staycee. She was… something else. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was almost like she loved this place. No one loved this place - not unless they made you a Zero first, and I still believed that was a myth. "That's really cool! Did you wear a stocking over your head and carry a sack with a dollar sign on it? Where do you get those, anyway? Is there a bank-robbing supply store?" I flashed a cheeky smile and pulled her hand into mine. "I like to hold hands. You'll have to get used to that. Adelaide - she was my First - and I pretty much never let go. The Headmistress says its a side effect of detachment in my life before, iono though. Maybe." My time here was a little different to the others; it seemed like I was seeing the Headmistress significantly more; she'd check on me, ask about my progress, deliver my rewards personally - I thought that was normal until Francesca (one of the other Seconds) told me she hadn't even seen the Headmistress outside of her color ceremony. Speaking of which. "Nice color, girl. Wow. That's gotta be the prettiest blue I've ever seen." I nodded happily, fiddling with the hem of my dress. It really was beautiful. "I didn't pick it. I mean, my Second was always a "be your own person" kind of girl. So she'd dress me in tons of colors. And when I went to my ceremony, I had no idea what I wanted. But the Headmistress just gave me this one. And I love it, I really do. Strange I'd like a blue… I like your yellow, though. It's sunny." Sun. I was almost sure I'd forgotten what the actual sun looked like. Still, Staycee could serve as my pseudo-sun until I got out of this place. I gave a sideways look and smiled curiously. "You know that's exactly what happened with me, too? My Second told me she hated it as a name, but she was naming me Staycee nonetheless. And spelling it weird, too. Es-Tee-Ay-Why-See-Ee-Ee. See? And then she didn't have any influence on my color, either; the Headmistress assigned me my yellow though and it just felt so right. Like getting a dress you always wanted for Christmas, and having it fit amazingly. Except, well, I don't know what that's like. But it's how I imagine that to be like." I sat up on the edge of the bed and took another closer look at Audrey, smiling contently. "You're easily the prettiest girl here. I'm glad we're roomies." "Uhhuh." So maybe I wasn't as special as I thought… it was probably a common thing, now that I thought about it. Not every Second would have such an attachment to color the way I did - I meticulously planned the color of my First. And I guess everyone else just got a random color they'd love. How did we love it, anyway? Was it profiling, or did they add that in Hypno as well? This facility always made me feel cold whenever I'd think about it in such terms, and goosebumps would rise on my arms. Two more Phases, and I could leave for good. As a new person. "I don't suppose you know what we're supposed to do, now?" Firsts were always orchestrated by Seconds, and Seconds remembered how they were orchestrated by their Seconds. But this was Staycee's and my first day in the Phase Three wing, and we had no idea what we were doing. One of the big differences we were privy to as Thirds; one I'd noticed when I came in, in-fact, was the presence of the little digital clock on the bedside table. "I don't know for sure, but I do know it's fifteen minutes before meal time and I bet nobody else has considered that. Come on, let's get dressed and find the lunch hall." It was something that the Headmistress had told me with that smile of hers that always seemed to have something just beneath the surface of it; like her words had seventeen different meanings if only I'd listen - she told me that I had control over who I was as a Third. And I think that meant something. "We have control. As Thirds. Over who we are and who we become, whether we become cute little geeky introverts or social butterflies, whether we accept being average or strive to be the best. Whatever we aim for, they'll help with - if we wanna be the best, they'll help us be the best." I picked a blue pleated skirt and a pretty buttoned blouse off the hanger and handed them both to Audrey. "So let's be the best." I nodded my head, taking the two pieces of clothing from Staycee with small concerns. I didn't really care about being the best, but I didn't like being punished, either. I remembered when I was a First how tragic my life was when I misbehaved, even in the slightest. If getting to the lunch room first meant I wouldn't get in trouble, then I was all for it. But still, the outfit in my hand held another concern. Two pieces… I'd never worn a two piece anything. Dresses, nighties, all that from One and Two were a single piece of clothing. They probably go on just like boy clothes, Audrey. "Um… can you turn around? So I can change, I mean." "Really?" I smiled and shook my head, my hand slipping into the girl’s and squeezing it. "You've showered in front of other people, had your diaper changed repeatedly, been dressed and undressed and probably spanked publicly. You've had the Softening, had your physical at the end of Second - how're you still shy?" I laid the clothes down on the bed and motioned to the girl, my sparkling blue eyes shining with happiness. "Come on, off with your clothes. I'll dress you myself." Though my tone was firm and certain, there was also a particular playful affection to it. Like we were already best friends. My cheeks lit up and I looked down at my feet shyly. "It's… different." I wasn't sure how it was different, but it certainly felt it. I was a girl now - it was something I'd come to accept in Phase Two. I conquered my fears of change, and this was the new me. I didn't mind that I couldn't be Colin anymore, I really didn't. But shame was still an evident factor, even as a girl. And part of being a girl meant not having a penis, and thusly, I found it to be a big part of my shame. Since talk of Phase Three and independence, I'd already decided not to let another soul see me naked. I was a girl damnit, and I wasn't going to let anyone think otherwise. "I can change, Staycee. Just pleeeeease turn around..?" Was I asking? "And what if I want to see you change? I'll let you see me change." I would have anyway - the facility encouraged openness especially within pairs and while I didn't know how it worked for Thirds, I was willing to bet it was something still rewarded. But I wanted her to be comfortable around me; it was known even as Seconds that Thirds had the longest program. I didn't want things to be weird and awkward between us. "You know when I was a boy, I'd never change in front of anybody. I was just never comfortable with my body. Most boys aren't, anyway. But I wanna be the kind of girl who can change in front of her friends, the kind of girl who isn't ashamed of her body. Don't you, too? You're already the prettiest girl here; the only thing that could make you more gorgeous is the confidence to know it and show it." I wasn't the prettiest girl - firstly, I paled in comparison to Staycee - and I certainly wasn't going to try to pretend I was. I was nice looking, I knew that, but all the Seconds had been by the time we left Phase Two. I was just another girl. "I just… I don't like people seeing me in my underwear, alright?" It was one of the drawbacks of panties - they showed everything. I remembered my first week in them, back as a Second, and how I actually missed diapers. I was always so confident around my First when I had my nighttime diaper on, but I'd never let her see me in underwear, even if they were padded. "Ohhh…" I smiled in realization and in one smooth motion I lifted Audrey's dress off and tossed it on the bed, leaving her topless and just in her pretty blue panties. "Okay. Audrey. Come here." She was skittish and shy and reluctant as I pulled her over to the mirror and stood her before it; I knew what she was conscious of and I was determined to show her the truth. "You're a girl here." I motioned to her head. "And here." And then to her heart. "These things make you a girl. A head full of compassion and a heart full of love. Nothing else matters. Some girls have small boobs, some have big. Some have wide hips, and some narrow. Some have long hair, some short, some have button noses and some don't. Some of us like yellow and some of us like blue, and I'm sure some people like those other colors, too. And you know what? Some girls?" I put my hand on the front of her panties - it was a bold move and probably not something she was ready for, but I also wanted to show her how normalized these things were. "Some girls have an outie and some girls have an innie. But we're all girls. A head full of compassion and a heart full of love. That's it. Now look. And tell me what you see?" I motioned to the mirror. Discomfort. That's what I saw. A very, very uncomfortable girl. I turned away from the mirror, my cheeks on fire, hurrying over to the bed and fiddling with the Audrey-blue skirt. I very quickly pulled it up my legs, covering my blue cupcake panties, and zipped it into place around my waist. So much for the ‘no one will see you in your underwear’ plan. Staycee looked a little upset with my reaction, so I turned away from her shyly and slid the blouse over my arms, buttoning it up over my budding breasts. "You're never going to be happy with yourself until you understand that simple truth, Audrey. But you'll get it, I know you will. You're a smart girl. Wanna know a tip until then?" I was already in front of the closet, picking out my own clothes as I spoke. She was cute. Really cute. But she didn't get it; she didn't get what I'd got in my first week as a Second. She didn't get that they didn't make you a girl here - you did. And if you didn't accept it, if you relied only on what they gave you… you could never be happy. I'd help her, though. I slipped into a pair of tight yellow shorts and smiled. "Trust me." Trust her? The girl who just stripped me when I'd said no? Yeah - really the one to trust… ugh, this was going to be a really long Phase. I finished dressing myself, deciding against using hair ties despite my interest out of fear of getting in trouble - I didn't know the rules yet. Staycee, conversely, put her up in a ponytail without a second thought. I bit my lip, shaking my head. Not worth the trouble. I still looked strange in the mirror, though, and it took me a long time to figure out skirts aren't supposed to sit at your waist, but on your hips. I hiked it up a bit and smiled pleasantly at myself in the mirror. A proper schoolgirl. "You'll be marked down for hair, and for not wearing lipgloss - look?" I motioned to the vanity where there was a veritable array of glosses. They obviously expected us to wear it as Thirds. "Here." I pulled two hair ties off the vanity and took the brush, motioning to the bed. "I think you'll look really cute in pigtails, and they gave us hair stuff so it's expected of us. Come on, we've only got a few minutes." I motioned to the bed, and also scooped up a cherry lemonade lipgloss off the vanity as I made my way over. I bit my lip and shook my head. "We can just wait for orientation. We won't get in trouble if we didn't know! And if we weren't supposed to touch it yet, we might get in trouble anyway… it's safer not to, Staycee." She'd already undressed me today - I wasn't about to let her get me in trouble, too. So I moved away from her and the bed to the door, standing in the open doorway. "Are you coming or not?" We got to the mess hall a few moments following and I smiled in delight as we sat down at the table ~ a very different sort of table to the previous phases; more like a school cafeteria now. The Headmistress smiled from the podium at the end of the room and it was no secret why ~ we were here first. I reached my hand underneath the table and squeezed Audrey's excitedly. "Here she comes. Smile." The Headmistress and I knew each other quite well. Beyond her giving me my color on my second day, she personally oversaw most of the changes in my career at the institution, like my punishments and my Phase changes, and often would casually give me ideas on ways to improve. I didn't like her - she was, after all, the person who kept me prisoner - but I didn't hate her, either. It was hard to hate a woman who never broke the rules. I knew what was expected of me, and all she wanted was for me to be good. I learned that early on. I gave her a kind smile as she approached, walking through the lunchroom style tables and joining us across the table, standing behind the other bench. "Hello, Headmistress." "Staycee, as predicted you've excelled on presentation, punctuality and ~ as a wonderful bonus ~ you're already sitting in Third Standard style. Well done." The smile she gave me, the praise and that warmest of glows that went along with it... it was worth every bit of meticulous detail. She turned to Audrey next and pursed her lips. "Oh child, I had higher hopes of you. Untidy hair, no lipgloss and sitting like a First in a full diaper. You will do better, wont you? For me?" "I… uh… yeah… yes, Headmistress…" She walked away and I felt my whole body sulk into the table. I put my arms down and rested my head on them, looking away from my roommate. Like a first in a… oh! I very quickly closed my legs and bit my lip. How was Staycee sitting? I wanted to look, but that would let her know I was copying her. I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of being right. "Knees together, ankles apart. Like a child, see?" I leaned back and motioned beneath the table ~ Audrey had been marked down and I figured by the way she snapped her legs shut that she was trying to improve. "It's okay, you know. We're here to learn and that means little mistakes. They'll never punish you if it's an actually mistake. Just if you knew better and still screwed up." More girls were starting to file in, sheepish and apprehensive ~ the speech would begin soon. "I don't need your help. I'm fine. And what do I care if the Headmistress didn't think I sat perfectly? Doesn't matter to me…" Though, through my time here, I was smart enough to know that it did matter. I was never trying to impress the woman, but there was a distinct correlation with my screw-ups and my punishments. It was best to keep the woman happy. So I slid my ankles apart just a little, my knees still together, slowly in hopes Staycee wouldn't take notice. I still wasn't looking at her - I had my attention focused on the Headmistress at the podium and the other girls filing in. "Girls. Please take your seats ~ I know you're all hungry and anxious to begin your new Phase, and the sooner we get done here the sooner your new lives begin." A quiet swept over the room and the Headmistress begun. "Welcome. All of you. To even make it to Phase Three is such a triumph in and of itself. You've faced trials and hardships, learned how to adapt and survive. And you've all become such wonderful young girls. But there are many challenges ahead, many struggles still. Like wavering saplings reaching gingerly for the sun, your life now is what you make it. Your graduation depends on you. Your attitude. Your dedication. Your desire to be someone to be proud of. You will be scored and rated on every aspect of your life from now until the end of Phase Three. Every. Single. Piece. Will decide who you become, and how soon. And each day, an example will be made of she who wishes not to excel. A reminder to always be your best.” That got my attention and I quickly sat up at the table. There were three other girls on the other side of our table, across from Staycee and me, and all of them were looking at the Headmistress with equal attentiveness. Actually… there were a lot of girls. At least fifty. That was five times the Seconds we had in our wing. I shook my head and looked over at Staycee, whispering as not to disturb the Headmistresses' speech. "So we can leave early if we're good?" Less time in Phase Three just for being cooperative? "It's not quiet like that." I didn't want to be caught talking with the Headmistress at the podium, but I also wanted to answer the question. So I talked. Very, very quietly. "You get… scored. Like she said. And those with good scores graduate earlier. They never tell you what your score is, so you gotta always be at your best. Always." The Headmistress left the podium now and the chatter began around us, carts being wheeled in with platters of food. Real food. Ish. One had a pile of cheeseburgers! I very quickly grabbed for a plate of chicken, putting some onto the plastic plate in front of me, again in my blue. Oh, real food! As a Second, I got to eat things beyond the milky baby bottle from my first phase, but it was always the same five things. Chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, tatter tots, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and SpaghettiOs. We'd always get one fruit alongside each course, and we'd always get a cookie once a week. It grew tedious very quickly. I grabbed a burger, next, and then a brownie off a tray at the end. I looked around the lunchroom at the other tables - all with different food. Was I allowed to get up? Better be safe… "You'll be scored on your figure." I took one solitary burger and a handful of carrot sticks and apple slices from the neglected plate in the center of the table. "They give you all the means to indulge, but it's one of the things they measure on. So pace yourself." Looking at the variety of foods available to my poor tortured-by-boredom palette, I thanked whatever powers that may be for the fact I'd discovered that little piece of truth in advance. And even though I had, holding back the urge to gorge myself was… exhausting. One burger. Lots of veggies and fruit. I rolled my eyes and dove into the chicken first, eating hungrily. Oh, and it was so well prepared. It was strange having the cafeteria of fifty people so quiet - just the sounds of cutting and chewing. I guessed social elements weren't really as important as food. I sipped the glass of chocolate milk - CHOCOLATE MILK! - and smiled happily, my head in my arms again. "Such a good meal… I like Phase Three a lot." Audrey made it abundantly clear just how little my advice meant to her, but I resolved to stay strong. Someone had helped me, before. And now I wanted to help someone, too; Audrey fit the bill. She was just so stubborn. I gingerly chewed the burger - tiny little bites to make it last - and watched all of those around us. I didn't know when the weigh-ins would be, but I wasn't going to risk it. "You know, I haven't led you wrong yet, have I? This is a test of willpower and temptation. They make us into pretty girls and pretty girls have self control and restraint. It's a life lesson. Makes sense, right?" "I'll eat less for dinner." They'd probably made everyone skip breakfast today for the phase changes - they did take a long time, after all. Phase One to Two took an entire week - learning to take care of Firsts and learning the rules. Phase Two to Three, though, was oddly simple. I went into a room, was given new clothes, told very few rules, watched an hour-long program about the "individuality" and "creativity" building that Phase Three offered, along with it's goal to promote social development. It was a bit too after-school-special for me, though, and I found myself horribly bored. Regardless, no breakfast meant a big lunch. "As you wish." I smiled simply to myself and took a bite of celery. Would it kill them to have peanut-butter? I decided to bring it up with my next meeting with the Headmistress. "It's exciting, isn't it?" Advice didn't seem to pan out, so I resorted to small-talk. "I mean. Scary. In One and Two we knew what was expected of us. And now this, where we don't really know a thing…? It's pretty thrilling. What're your plans when you get out?" "Not really scary. Just be good. It was pretty simple." And when I messed up, the Headmistress was quick to correct me. Sit with knees together, ankles out. And when I got back to the room, I'd have to do my hair and put lipgloss on. It was really very simple, actually. "When I leave? I don't know. Can't go home - not like this. My sister would tease me so bad." I smiled, but a stone fell through my stomach… I'd never see my family again… "My family disowned me. Like. Actually, legally so. They have a restraining order, too. Isn't that all sorts of messed up? I mean I get it ~ with what I did? But still. Really harsh. I don't much know what I want now, but Phase Two really brought out my maternal side. Just wanna take care of someone. A child, or someone who just wants me to show them everything will be okay. That's why I try to do good here, because the sooner I'm out? The sooner I can find my special someone." I had a sort of wistful tone in my voice as I spoke, my inflections airy and my gaze focused on a particular light fixture. "I have this dream, sometimes. About this girl I take care of. She's a criminal and we're on the run, hiding in hotels and working where we can. And she relies on me so much. And I take care of her." I looked down from my fixation on the ceiling and bit my lip shyly. "She can't talk. Not except to me. When anybody else is around, she's mute. She needs me and trusts me, and just to… to feel that? Wow. I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm so sorry." "Well, when you're out of here, you won't be running." I wasn't sure how that fit into her dreams, but it seemed like a bonus. "I mean, you'll be able to find your someone and take care of them normal. Like, in one place." I wasn't a very profound girl, though - I never was as a boy, either - and I suddenly felt like my words were particularly useless. "I can't talk, sometimes. I mean, it's really just one guy. The Hypno tech when I was a First and Second. I have no idea why. I just can't get a word out around him. Which sucks, because Hypno scares me a lot… I wish I could ask what he was doing." I bit my lip and played with the edge of my empty-except-for-crumbs plate. "But Thirds get a new Hypno tech, so it'll be fine." She was opening up to me a little more now and that made me smile ~ looks like small talk was the answer. "Why can't you talk around him?" It seemed the wrong thing to ask so soon, though, so I followed up with an easier thing to manage. "Hypno used to scare me, but it's like a roller coaster ride for me now. I get on. I'm not much sure what happens. And I get off. I don't really think its changed me any, but isn't that the point? Not to know? I sometimes wonder what my old friends would think of me now. They'd probably rape me..." Now there's a sobering thought. I shrugged my shoulders and kept drawing circles on the cafeteria table, the plastic plate pushed away. Some people were still eating, and it didn't seem we were allowed to leave yet. It was probably on a timer. After all, we had social interaction here. It differed so much from the dining hall as a Second. "I don't know. I mean, I just can't. I try to talk and… nothing happens. Maybe it's something they did to me - maybe I was being annoying one day." But Hypno started on day two, and I didn't get in trouble until day three. I shook my head in confusion. It was always an anomaly, and I'd decided long ago not to bother with it. It was probably that man in particular. "Which man was it? The tall one with the glasses, or the tubby one who always smelled of lemon lime & bitters?" It was strange for me to say that - I didn't actually remember what that smelled like. Just that once upon a time I'd made the connection with the man and that memory had stuck. Across from us at the table, two of the girls had already started babbling like high-schoolers and it became apparent just how much a bonding experience real food could be. "I don't like the one with the glasses. Creeps me out. Like he's fantasized about one too many pretty little sissy boys." "Mine was tubby… but I don't know what that smells like, so it could be someone else." I still had my head down, though I was looking up at Staycee, now. Conversations started up around us but they all seemed like white noise to me. "I liked him. He was sweet. He'd always smile and talk even though I couldn't talk back. All the staff here are really nice. I guess it beats prison, huh?" Then again, in a lot of ways, it really didn't. But since I'd gotten out of Phase One, I was much less bothered. "Tha's…" I paused for a moment and tried to remember the technicians name. "Vel-… no, that's stupid. Uh. Oh! Oh! Edgar, right? I think." I smiled happily - as the Phase's continued inexorably, memory was becoming more and more a commodity to be held onto. At least for me. It was the same for everybody, though. "This place really messes with your memory, huh?" I actually felt an ache at the sides of my head for a moment, like little needles stabbing… and then it passed. "I guess…" There wasn't a whole lot to remember about the facility - the rules were very clear and everything else would likely never leave me with how humiliated I had been. But it did seem like I'd been here forever when it had only been a six months. Maybe that's what she meant. The doors to the hallways opened and some of the girls got up to leave. I climbed off the bench I was sitting on and followed behind them, Staycee a pace behind me. I found myself a little lost in thought as we wandered back to our room, but by the time we got there I was my usual peppy self. "So, Audrey… you must have been a gorgeous looking boy to turn out as pretty as you have." It wasn't like me to be flirtatious and I s'pose it wasn't even flirting, per se. Just observation, Admiration. "Were you gay? I mean, before?" It was a rarer thing for it to happen, but I couldn't imagine this girl ever having been a boy who chased after the fairer sex. I frowned and crossed my arms, walking past Staycee to the vanity and picking out hair ties. I probably shouldn't have been so offended, given I was wearing a schoolgirl uniform and putting my hair in pigtails, but I really was. "No, I wasn't gay. I've always liked girls." I was a pretty nice looking boy, I knew, but the amount I'd changed in six months surprised even me. Then again, Staycee would never be mistaken as a boy, nor would anyone else in this Phase. Still, there was something particularly beautiful about Staycee. She was just… a better girl. By the time Audrey replied, I was laying down on the bed on my stomach, cradling my chin in the palms of my hands. "Well, you're going to make an amazing wife for some lucky girl out there." I pursed my lips and looked thoughtful. "They made me like boys. It was one of the criteria the judge put in place, because I can't be trusted with girls. Made the families really happy, you know? So they skipped due process and made me like boys. Well. Not boys specifically, but their… bits." My cheeks were glowing now and I laid my head on my arms. "It sucks, too, you know? Because I really do adore girls." "That sucks…" I really did sympathize. This facility had taken so much of Colin away, and so much of Audrey was manufactured. I wasn't even sure any of me was left… "Oh… look." I grabbed a paper off the vanity and held it up for Staycee to see. It was a schedule. And with a clock, it felt like a whole new system. I glanced over the paper and read aloud. "Lights on - 6am. Breakfast - 8am. Class A - 9:30am to 11:30am. Lunch - Noon. Audrey - Hypno/Staycee - Class B - 1:30pm to 3pm. Staycee - Hypno/Audrey - Class B - 3:30pm to 5:00pm. Dinner - 5:30pm. Lights out - 9pm." That's complicated… "Um… Disclaimer - classes differ depending on the day/week/social structure. Follow the attached chart for room numbers…" "Oh!" I peered over the shorter girls shoulder at the timetable and glowed with a smile. Structure. Order. Oh, things felt so much better already. "It's all so strange. I mean, some parts of me just crave the rigor and structure of Phase One. But a bigger part of me just wants to spread my wings and embrace all this. I mean, what's it even mean? Classes differ on social structure? It's all so vague." My tone had started to sound almost… desperate by the end and I frowned, falling back on the bed. "I just wanna do well…" "Well… it's fifteen minutes until our first class. Or… your first class. I have Hypno." I looked down the list with a blissful smile. Hypno wasn't structured. Hypno rooms are as follows > Name list > Number. Done. Staycee and I had the same Hypno room, it seemed. "Your is… um… week one, Monday…" Monday, right? Yeah, says so on the clock. "That's this column. Punishment day, normal day? I guess… normal day, right? ID starts with…" I felt sick to my stomach. This was like the spreadsheet from Hell or something. "I think… 322. For you. And 308 for me. But you might wanna double checks yours. It confused me…" "Uhhuh…" My voice was vague as I lay there and gathered up my thoughts, then sat up with the best smile I could manage. "Make sure to tell me all about our Hypno tech when we catch up, okay? I like to know people. It's how I stay good at this stuff. I watch and listen and know." It was my thing, and it made me smile to know that it was. Nobody else paid attention like I did. "What do you think the Hypno courses are going to be, as Thirds?" Conversation. Small talk. That kept things normal. Can't get freaked out, Staycee! It's competitive, now. It's important to do well, not just to pass. I shrugged my shoulders and stepped away from the vanity, my hair in low pigtails, as would be proper. "I have no idea. I guess I'll be able to tell you in an hour and a half, huh?" Then again, I never remembered any of my Hypno sessions. It was more like falling asleep. But maybe I could ask. After all - I'd have a new tech. "Only thirteen minutes - I should go and try to find this place. See you back here after class." "Ah, yes. Audrey. Please come in." The man who answered the door after three small knocks was a tall, lanky man without much expression to his long, drawn face. Thick-rimmed glasses framed dark green eyes that sat sunken into eye-sockets just a little too deep, and his voice wavered between deep and scary-deep every few syllables. He waited for the girl to enter the room and closed the door behind her with a sharp click, his long thin lips pulling into the faintest hint of a leer as he watched every little footstep the girl took. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. "Nice to meet you." Did that come out? I opened my eyes at the tall man in front of me, smiling down, though he said nothing. No "Nice to meet you too." I sighed and tried again, but like the first time, no words… no sounds. So it wasn't just Edgar. It was all Hypno techs. What the hell sense did that make?! I gave a small wave instead and fiddled with the hem of my skirt. The quiet girl sparked a particular interest in the man and as she fiddled with her hemline, he stood over her and addressed a chart that had taken its place in his fingertips during his approach. "No need to be frightened, hypnosis is nothing to be afraid of. In-fact, I quite adore it. Don't you, pet?" He motioned to the chair in the center of the room. "Please do sit." What are you going to do? What is the Third hypnosis about? But still, no words, and that meant no answers. If only I had a pen and paper… but the idea of reading and writing was wiped out of me in One. Before Three, I knew they gave me the ability to read back, but I wasn't sure about the writing thing. Still, I took my seat in the chair and looked up at the headpiece. Always the same headpiece. Still, this session was a half hour longer than Phases One and Two… The man leaned over Audrey and fiddled with the head-set, gently pulling it down closer to her head before stopping and looking into her eyes with his very deep-set sockets. He stared at her for entirely too long to be comfortable; his breath smelled of stale cigarette smoke and coffee and as his eyes bore into the soul of the girl in the chair. "You're quite beautiful, you know. Perhaps the most beautiful girl I've seen in this dark, empty place." They were words with the potential to be wonderful, deep and touching… but they simply weren’t. "You're a very quiet one, aren't you? Perhaps there just aren't any words worth passing those pretty lips of yours." It was one of those compliments that just… couldn't help but come across as off-putting. There was nothing wrong with the words, or even the inflection and delivery. It was just him, just the way it was obvious that he meant these things despite the fact he was talking to a sixteen year old girl with the mind of a ten year old. I nodded my head. What else could I do? I tried getting comfortable in the chair, but it felt so foreign to me. It was the same make, the same model, the same everything, but not the same chair, and not the same tech. I wondered if hypnosis could even work with a tech I didn't trust - and it wasn't that I didn't trust this new man! He was just… new. New people take time to get used to, right? "Relax now, pet. You're tense. There's no need to be. Hypnosis is a very intimate experience. Very special. Relax now, and let me take away all those fears and worries." One hand had gently slipped around Audrey's and the other was reached up, bringing the headset closer to the girls pretty head of hair. He was close to her; probably inappropriately so. But there was something in his cold eyes, something that wasn't there before. A little spark. An interest. The visor came down over my eyes and the next thing I knew all the light was gone. The voice of the Hypno tech was gone, too. I felt a small cold chill come over me as I thought about what this was: my first hypnosis of Phase Three. Anything could happen, now. Who I was could be rewritten the same way they'd rewritten me in Phase One and Two. And the worst part was, I'd never know the difference… The Headmistress had been very specific with her plans for Audrey and Staycee: that it would be dangerous for the two of them to express a romantic interest in one another. That the establishment of such could lead to side-effects the facility would rather not address - particularly in Staycee, who's dreams had already become an issue. It had therefore been made abundantly clear to the hypnosis technicians who would see them through Phase Three, that the standard conditioning for Thirds - which compelled each and every Third to express romantic interest in their room-mate (pairings that had each been chosen for specific reasons) was not to be applied to either Audrey or Staycee. And yet, now, as a result of a clouded moment… that very program was running through Audrey's headset. The technician watched her as she sighed and twitched, the reflection of the bright lights on her face illuminating soft delicate features and as the session continued… Audrey began to smile. The technician smiled, too, not at all aware of his mistake. Still, without the same mistake being applied to Staycee… how bad could things be? Hypno sessions were always so obscure to me - no matter how many times it happened, it still always felt like I'd fallen asleep during a movie. The machine was lifted off my head and I looked up at the man with the glasses. I'd been under that helmet so many times that the dizziness that frequented the Hypno processes had left me entirely. Still, I remained where I was for an extra second out of sheer ritual. What had he changed? The dizzy look on the girls face was always his favorite part of this job; that dazed look as a pretty little thing accepted the fact that their mind had been violated, penetrated and taken by force. Any brute could force himself upon a girl, but it took a very special kind of man to taken ownership of her mind. He shook his head and the little smile faded away as he helped the girl from her chair. "How do you feel, pet? Perhaps you should head back to your room and lay down, no?" The usual focus questions; drawing attention to the room-mate, observing reactions? They went unasked. After-all, the technician hadn't realized his mistake. Still, the writing had been written on the walls and it was only a matter of time before the programming took hold of the poor girl before him. "Hurry along, now." I nodded, still in a mild state of bliss, and wandered out into the hallway. It was at least fifteen steps before I realized I wasn't going the right way. I came back into the bedroom a minute later finding Staycee half-undressed, in only her panties and… a bra? I very quickly turned around, my cheeks lighting up. Why was I shy? I'd changed diapers before! "Um… hey. How was… um… Class B." Class B, right? According to the schedule, that could be anything. "It was really fun!" My voice was bright and airy as I fussed over clothes in the closet and turned back around, standing with my knees together and my hands on my hips. "Lookie? First bra. What do you think? I don't really fill it out yet and it's padded, but they said I will." And I had to pause because that notion made me really happy. "I'm really super excited. The class was on proper layering. Like. Putting together outfits and stuff. I mean, the first half hour was everybody being sized for our bras and…" Audrey wouldn't turn around, though, and I pouted a little. "…hey! Come on. Look. It's my first bra, I want to be fawned over!" "Uhhuh…" I felt my cheeks get hot as I approached Staycee, being particularly careful not to look at her chest. But her underwear wasn't a good idea either, so I focused on her toes. Did we get to paint nails sometime in this phase? "It's really nice… super happy for you. Probably getting mine next class, huh? Oh, next class!" I looked at the time - we were both back fifteen minutes early! That meant 45 minutes until my Class B… "…I really should… um… get ready. Redo my hair or something." Why was I so flustered?! It was just Staycee. "Hey…" I took a step forward and cupped the girls cheek softly, directing her gaze up to mine with a little smile. I didn't know where the sudden surge of maternal care had come from, but I was knee-deep in it now and it wasn't like I could stop. "You okay, pretty girl? You seem shaken. Did something happen in Hypno? Did you have Edgar?" I couldn't imagine Edgar actually making her as physically skittish as she was at the moment; he was really a sweet guy despite the evidence to the contrary. So why was she so shaken? "Um… nuh uh…" Her eyes were really lovely… but they were the same as my eyes. The same as everyone’s eyes! Why didn't I find everyone else's eyes so pretty?! I shook my head and pulled away, and then the feeling of her skin not on mine made my stomach sink. I bit my lip and quickly went to the vanity, taking out my pigtails and trying again. "Um… had… the guy with the glasses. He was nice. I mean, he complimented me a lot, which… I guess isn't so weird." I always got compliments here, even as a First. Penelope couldn't even believe I was a boy. A little wince came to my mind and I frowned at the thought. "He flirted with you? Gah. He's so creepy! You're sixteen and he's like a thousand years old. Ew ew ew ew!" I hoisted myself up to sit on the vanity, looking down at Audrey with a smile on my face and nothing on but underwear. "Are you okay? Did you tell him to go to hell?" She didn't, of course; we knew better than to bad-mouth staff, but still. I would've wanted to tell him that. And that's enough. "Couldn't talk. I hate that. Something they did, I'm sure. But it's whatever…" I made absolutely sure not to look at Staycee, keeping my eyes on me in the mirror, adjusting my pigtails, then taking them out again, then starting over. "He's not that old… maybe forty something. And he wasn't flirting. It was just a compliment. Like when I say you're beautiful…" I felt my cheeks heat up and I had to force myself not to break eye contact with myself. "It's not flirting…" My voice had absolutely no confidence, though. I bit my lip and looked down at the girl trying desperately to focus all her attention on her hair with a cheeky little smile on my face. "You think I'm beautiful?" The color that flushed through her cheeks was more than enough answer, but hearing her answer with that pretty little voice of hers would be even better than the blush. And I really liked blushing girls. "Uhhuh…" I tied my hair in pigtails in complete silence, and again, pulled them out. I had already tied one back up when I froze, looking at myself in the mirror. "Oh crap…" I frowned and looked down at the vanity in front of me, grabbing one of the lip glosses. I went to Hypno without it? And after the Headmistress told me specifically… I sighed and smeared as much as I could on my lips, clearly smearing it all over my skin, and tied the other pigtail up. And how did you sit in the chair, Audrey? Like a Third? She was panicking and that caused a little more of my maternal feelings to show as I slid down off the vanity and leaned in close, running my thumb along the outline of her lips to clean away the excess gloss. "Quality, not quantity. Put it on right in as few motions as possible. Like this." I pursed my lips and applied the gloss, one smooth line for each lip. "Then you purse, like this, and then use the edge of your thumb-nail to clean up any excess." I demonstrated those steps and looked down into her brilliant blue eyes. "And you're pretty gorgeous yourself, sweets. You know. For the record." "Uhhuh…" I was transfixed. I didn't know why - she'd put her lipgloss on in front of me once before. And still, the way she… I shook my head, my cheeks burning up, and resumed looking at my feet. What was wrong with me?! She was so uninteresting before… before Hypno? Was this a change they made? I made a mental note to check if I started feeling this way with anyone but Staycee - maybe in my Class B. Oh, no… I'd have to watch everyone else get fitted for bras! I couldn't feel like this with that many people! Ugh! What was wrong with me?! "You look really pale, Audrey. Come on, come lay down. We got like… twenty minutes, right?" I took her by the hand - subconsciously lacing my fingers into hers like I did with the girl in my recurrent dreams - and led the girl over to the bed, pointing with my free hand. "Lay down, come on. I'll sit up next to you and make sure you're up for our next session. Trust me?" I flashed a smile with teeth that had been wonderfully whitened some time during Phase One and in the warm light of our bedroom, it was pretty apparent just how perfect my skin was, too. Almost like a doll. I kept my eyes closed, but I didn't sleep. It wasn't right. They couldn't mess with my head and make my stomach feel weird and make me dizzy and… and it wasn't fair! After Class B, I would stay and ask to speak to the Headmistress. She was always willing to talk to me. I'd tell her whatever they did I wanted it gone. I didn't like it. I just felt so… so anxious. Like at any minute something could jump out of the wall. So I kept my eyes closed and counted silently until Staycee nudged me. I passed a casual smile before hurrying out of the bedroom, giving a wave and dashing down the hallway. It took me a minute of leading against the wall to get my heart rate under control, and it was only then I realized I didn't know what room I was supposed to go to. Ugh… "Hey!" The chipper voice came from a girl with a mess of bright blonde curls that flowed down over her shoulders. Like everybody else, she had sparkling blue eyes; but unique to her were patches of freckles on her cheeks that almost shined when she smiled. "You lost? I'm Aimee. I know, I don't much like it either but my Second was kind of a ditz and had no imagination. What's your name?" "Um… Audrey…" I looked back down the hallway, my room out of sight. Staycee had probably left - it was safe to go back. Still… "I'm not really… lost. I mean. I don't know where I'm going. Gotta get my chart from my room. It's that way." I pointed with my finger, but still, my feet didn't move. "Come on, I'll come with you. What've you got now? I've got Class B. Whatever that means." The airy flow to the girls voice could've sounded dangerously Disney-esque if not for her properly formed and varied inflections; she actually just sounded… happy. But happiness wasn't unusual in Phase Three; by the time most of us got here we were pretty content with the direction we were taking. Still, Aimee managed to carry that happiness with an amazing level of authenticity. "Yeah… um… okay." I led the way down the hall and Aimee followed behind. I knew she had Class B as well, but that didn't surprise me. From what I'd gathered, Class B would be a very different thing for different people. As I suspected, when I made it back to my room, Staycee wasn't there. I let out a small sigh and went over to the paper. Audrey… Week one, Monday… normal day… ID number… I bit my lip and looked up at Aimee. "It's this one, right? 383?" "Yuppers. Looks like we got a class together." She looked over at the vanity and fingered the lipgloss most recently used, before turning around with a smile. "Is she pretty? She's got a good taste in lipgloss." It was an obtuse question, but nothing seemed particularly obtuse coming from this girl. She just had a radiance about her. I pinned the sheet back onto the vanity for safe keeping and slipped the lip gloss Aimee was fingering into my skirt pocket. I wasn't sure why… "She's… she's really pretty. I don't know how. I mean, I knew the moment she got here, and even at lunch and stuff… there's just no one in this whole building as pretty as her. I bet she's prettier than Fourths!" I felt my cheeks heat up at the way I was talking about her and suddenly felt really foolish. "I mean, I don't know how she does it…" The blonde girl smiled knowingly at the girl with a cheeky grin. "Sounds like somebody has a crush. Prettiest girl here? Prettier than me?" She batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips. The answer was clear, though; for everything Aimee had going for her… there was just something lacking. Something Staycee had, a certain flair to the way she carried herself. A spark. That was a good way to put it. A spark that shone so much brighter than any of the conditioning. Something only Staycee had. And it was almost... magical. A crush…? I very quickly shook my head and my cheeks got hot. "No, no, no! It's not like that! It's… it's… just… I'm saying how it is. She's pretty. And I don't mean to be mean or anything - you're pretty too, but she's… but it's not anything. It's just true. It's not like that, I swear…" The silence that followed was dreadfully awkward, though, and I realized how frantic I sounded… "Don't we… um… have to go to class?" The clock already flashed 3:32. "Shoot, yes. Come on." Aimee took off running down the hall; she didn't know much about how all this worked but she did know that being late wouldn't do at all. The clock in the classroom read 3:35 by the time the two girls got there, and it was obvious from the two empty chairs at the tables that they were the only ones who'd been late, too. The woman at the front of the class stopped talking and the class hushed. "Audrey. Aimee. So nice of you both to join us. Class, Audrey and Aimee are of the belief that they have more important things to do than come to class." She turned to the two of them and frowned. "Sit. Be quiet. And if you're lucky, you'll both be given your first bras today." The classes were very small. I counted ten girls along with Aimee and myself. That meant there were five of these classes that took place… though I wasn't sure how that worked with Hypno involved. The woman at the front of the room talked a lot and it was all about clothing. Clothing was never something I was very interested in, even as a boy. The way I saw it, if it was something in my color, I'd wear it. Simple as that. Then she started calling people to the front of the room and, right in front of everyone, the girls would take off their blouses or respective dresses. I thanked whatever God was watching me that I wore a two piece outfit that day. But it was like the teacher said… Aimee and I might not get our chance. After all, she started at the front. "There is nothing that defines you as women more than your breasts, girls. Only the most special of visitors will see below your waistline, and only if you so choose. But your breasts make you a woman. They're on display at all times, they're the defining characteristic that sets you aside from the boys you all once were." Aimee actually looked stressed over the idea that she might not get her bra, and it was with great relief that she was called up next, along with Audrey. "Know that from this point onward, you are girls. You are more girl than you have ever been and more girl than you ever will be. With this simple garment, with the undeniable truth of your breasts… you are girls. And everything else beyond this is merely dessert." She finished fastening Aimee's bra and the blonde girl lit up in a smile that was bright even for her. "Your turn, Audrey." Unlike the others who received garments in simple white… Audrey's bra was blue. Her blue. And it was very obvious from the moment the woman lifted it off her desk. "Are you ready, Audrey?" I was a little concerned, looking back at Aimee as she slid the pinafore back down her body. Her bra was white. Everyone’s bras were white. Even Staycee's bra was white. And mine was blue… "Uhhuh… okay…" The woman helped me into the bra in front of nine other people, fastening it behind my back, and allowed me to put my blouse back on. I'd never felt so uncomfortable… "Audrey, each other girl will earn their bra in their own color. You've been selected by the Headmistress to be the first to do so; to help inspire the other girls." And it was clearly having the desired result… nine pairs of eyes looked enviously at Audrey; the girl who got to have a bra in her own special color. It wasn't resentment or upset… it was out and out envy. Aimee pouted and puffed out her cheeks. "Miss, how do I earn my peach-colored bra?" The woman smiled and looked at Audrey, then at Aimee. "One more of you will earn your color by the end of todays class. So everybody try extra hard. Now, sit down. We have a lot to cover, girls." I… was first? I took my seat, again, at the back with Aimee in complete disarray. What did I do? Or was it randomly chosen? I did get my color on only my second day, so maybe it was related to that. Still, I was late to class… I didn't understand this. Still, it wasn't worth arguing over - I was picked. I should be happy. So I was. I smiled proudly throughout the entire class as the students did their best to impress the teacher before us. Aimee wound up being given her peach-colored bra by the end of the class and by the thing things had come to a close, there were ten more girls in the world who understood the fundamentals of layering, color contrast and matching, and complementary fabric texture. "Who knew there was so much to learn? I wore flip-flops and jeans with a band tee before. Never even considered any of this." Aimee was bubbly, though; she got her bra and as far as she was concerned that made her pretty special. "I'll walk you to your room, but then I gotta go find Lali. She's my roomie. It was really great hanging out with you, though! Make sure to say hi to that cutie of yours for me, alright?" "Uhhuh." I made sure to give Aimee a complimentary goodbye and a heavy congratulations on her bra - though that seemed like the strangest thing in the world if you really thought about it. Aimee left me alone and I wandered into my room. No Staycee. I wandered to the mirror and looked at myself. The bra really did a lot. I mean, it only brought me to an A cup, even with the padding, but still, it seemed so… different. I had curves now. I didn't look ten anymore. It wasn't clear to me exactly what time it was, or how long Audrey had been in the room by the time I stumbled in and collapsed on the bed. But she was here. And now I was. And I felt intensely dizzy and exhausted. "Dun' get it… never felt so bad after Hypno…" I rationalized it to being the longer session, but my vision was blurred and my temples ached and I just wanted the room to stop spinning. Because if it didn't… I might've thrown up. And it was such a pretty bed. I managed to look up for long enough to see Audrey across the room and I smiled. "Pretty bra… your color, right?" "Huh…?" I looked down at my top and my cheeks burned up. White blouse, blue bra. Looks like it was a good thing you were paying attention in class, Audrey, because this outfit wouldn't work without a white under top. I quickly went over to the closet and picked out a camisole, then unbuttoned my blouse, slipped it on, and buttoned it back up. Much better. "So Hypno wasn't good? Sorry to hear…" I still had my back to my roommate. "Head feels like its going to explode…" I pulled a pillow over my head and squeezed it tight, emerging a few moments later to add in. "Come lay with me? Make it all better?" Despite the fact that I was dubious about the healing qualities of cuddles, I was still ready enough to believe in the magic of faith healing when it came to Audrey. She was still facing away, though, fidgeting with her blouse after having slipped into a cami to hide the lines of her bra. I bit my lip and the strange anxiety feeling filled me up again. Lay with her… well of course I was going to lay with her. It was my bed, too! Though this time, unlike as a Second, we each had our own pillows. I climbed in bed, over the covers, and put my head down next to Staycee's. My heart was racing… why hadn't I talked to the Headmistress about this?! Because it wasn't them… I didn't feel the strange anxiety with other people in class. Not with Aimee, and Aimee was so nice. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. What the hell was this…? It wasn't something I'd ordinarily have done, especially given how negatively she'd reacted to my being pushy earlier today… but I rolled over and draped one leg over the girl next to me and cuddled up close to her chest. It wasn't anything intimate, really: just comforting. A friend thing. And she was my best friend, after-all. "Did your head hurt this bad…?" My voice was quiet and contemplative, as if my words might disturb the comfort of us both. "Nuh uh… felt fine the whole time…" It wasn’t entirely true - I felt fine until I got back into the room. But it wasn't the hypnotism. It was Staycee. But it couldn't be Staycee… but with her cuddled close, her forehead against my cheek, her arm and her leg draped over me… I felt my cheeks burning and my heart racing. Maybe she wouldn't notice… if I asked the Headmistress, maybe she could tell me. Maybe she knew - she always knew everything. "You're… anxious." Despite the churning in my head, I managed to sit up and after a half dozen blinks, I even focused my eyes. It was shameful that the only reason I knew so much about her responses was because I used to sedate girls against their will. But this was at least a noble use for the knowledge. "Your heart is racing. And your breathing is off. And your speech is difficult." I crawled up next to her and placed the back of my hand against her forehead. "You're a little warm, too. What's the matter, pretty girl? Let Staycee help. What's got you all flustered and upset?" I shook my head, crawling out from under… but no, I didn't move. I was frozen? No, that couldn't be right… but with her hovering over me, her smile, her eyes, her hand on my forehead, then on my cheek, I felt the walls breaking down. I couldn't move. I didn't want to! And still, my heart rate increased so badly… what the hell… "Um… not… upset, I… just like… um… with…" What was I saying? What was the question? "Come on, prettiness. You can tell me anything." One finger ran up the girls cheek to her hairline and I brushed an errant bang out of the way, looking down at her with the same blue eyes she had. Eyes I'd come to be proud of having. "Is it something that happened in class? I notice your bra is in your color. And I'm sorta jealous. Was it that? Is that why you're upset; the bra thing? Because it's so cute…" My head was still swimming and I'd have been lying if I could claim to be able to even discern the color of her bra anymore. I was fading, and I knew it. But a few more minutes… just to make sure she was okay? I could do that. I couldn't shake my head… couldn't even think of a word to say. I wanted to explain the bra thing - she seemed curious - but somehow those words were lost on me. She was so close… and she smelled so sweet… but the next instant, she was closing her eyes and falling asleep next to me. And I was broken from her trance. "Hey, Staycee? You there? Hey, wake up!" But she wasn't budging. I quickly ran out into the hallway, looking right and left for someone. I didn't know the layout well enough… so I ran. I ran down the hallway knocking on all the doors until someone came out that wasn’t dressed like a twelve year old. "Staycee passed out. Or… or maybe fell asleep. But I can't wake her up!" "I'm fine… I just didn't eat very much at lunch, and you know… we didn't have breakfast." The woman who stood by the side of my bed looked concerned, but not entirely unconvinced. She looked at the worried-and-pacing Audrey and smiled. "I'll go and get you two some food brought up. Take good care of her." The woman left us and I sat up as best I could, looking sheepishly across at Audrey. "Sorry… must've fainted. I'm not sure what happened. Must be the food thing, right? I really didn't mean to worry you. Who was that, anyway? Was she a nurse, or just admin?" I shrugged my shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bed in complete discontent. Between my worry and the anxiety in my stomach, I felt altogether dreadful. "She was just a woman at one of the doors… I didn't ask her name or anything." Still, the food thing made sense. Staycee had so stubbornly eaten only one burger at lunch, and she'd probably skipped breakfast. I smiled a little and put my hand on Staycee's hip. She was under the covers now, though, and it made things easier. "I'm glad you're okay… scared me a little." "I really didn't mean to. I'll eat whatever you tell me to eat when food gets here. You can be in charge of me. How's that sound? Your own little Staycee-doll to feed and take care of?" I meant it as an encouraging statement, but Audrey looked away, biting her lip. "Uhhuh… okay…" I wanted to. I didn't know why, but I wanted to. Why would I want something that made me anxious?! It didn't make any sense! Still, I'd agreed, and that was that. The woman never came back, though a cafeteria worker brought us each a plate of food. I guessed it was somewhere around dinner time, so it seemed we'd be missing the get-together. As instructed, I fed Staycee her food. I ate the burger off her plate and instead fed her my chicken with a plastic fork. It was serene. The chicken was really lovely, and for the entire time I didn't even think about my figure. With the food gone and my dizziness along with it, I reached up and put my hand on her cheek. "Thanks for taking care of me. Nobody really looks out for anyone here. It's why I wanna help you. So thank you, Audrey. You're a doll." We didn't stay up late. We turned the lights out just after dinner and Staycee drifted very quickly off to sleep. Unfortunately, I didn't have the same pleasure with her cuddling so close. It wasn't until exhaustion beat out my anxiety that I managed to follow Staycee’s lead.

Myrtle, an 18 year old high school student, had just been suspended for doing drugs. Her parents, at the recommendation of a friend, have sent Myrtle to a week long rehabilitation program. She has no idea what she's in for. She knocks on the door of a large house.

Gabriela is 32 years old and is an executive for Dynamean Corporation who have a multitude of products and are involved in multiple markets. Gabriella only recently got promoted to an executive position after years of working with the company and years of college. She loves her job and that let anything interrupt it. Not even her baby crazy significant other.

Mike is a 6 year old boy who is abandoned by his parents in the house of his aunt . He is a capriccious boy and even a little spoiled and his aunt will have to put him back . The game begins whith Mike who knock on aunty Betty's door. (I'd like interpret Mike if is possible) Can I know if you see the post in English or in Italian? because I see it in Italian despite i write it in English.

Mind-bender He couldn’t believe it. After all these years, Dr Stewart Logan BSc (Hons), D.Hyp, DipThyp, PNLP, MHS (Acc) had Jimmy Preston, the guy who bullied him at school, as a patient on his couch. It may have been almost twenty years ago but Dr Logan remembered the way Jimmy and his bullying cronies had gone out of their way to embarrass, torment and physically assault the class nerd (him) for over four long years. It was obvious that Jimmy didn’t recognise the doctor he was about to unload many of his secrets to, if he had, he may well have had second thoughts. As it turned out… well… from a troubled and disturbed Jimmy Preston, a new Jimmy Preston was about to be born. # Jimmy was referred to the practice because he had ‘anger’ issues. The court had ruled as part of his sentence for Domestic Violence that he had to undergo a series of Anger Management classes, during which, he would be assessed by the court’s psychologist Dr Stewart Logan and on whose opinion his fate would rest. Jimmy’s marriage was over, his wife was glad to get away from his violent and controlling ways, but in her summing up, the judge had made it clear that if there wasn’t a change in his behaviour after this psychological assessment… then a custodial sentence would result. In their first few sessions 34 year-old Jimmy was full of resentment and reluctant to talk. However, as the doctor gained his confidence; gently probing, adding easy banter, gaining trust, his patient opened up. Logan quickly realised that despite his patient being very good-looking and in perfect condition, the man was a seething mess of unresolved anger, petty hatred and simmering, unfounded jealousy that needed to be put in check. # The patient’s neurosis and paranoia may have sprung from his upbringing but he’d done little to curtail any of these damning traits. In fact, he’d revelled in the power he could wield over others, the total control he could exude over those he thought were there simply to be used. He resented the judge trying to change him but had opted for what he saw as the easy option, letting a sympathetic (pathetic) doctor try to cure all his ills. He even laughed to himself when the judge offered this option and thought how stupid and gullible the law was at times to try and change someone like him. However, several sessions with the doctor had been quite a revelation to Jimmy. He’d liked to talk (and at times brag) about the things he’d done. However, despite him feeling he was in control, slowly, bit by bit, drip by drip, the clever Doctor Logan had crept, unnoticed, into the control freaks head and made camp there. The talk became easy and although Jimmy thought his defences were impenetrable, Doctor Logan had detected a weakness he knew he could exploit. Once ensconced in his patient’s head the doctor decided he’d use deep hypnosis in the hope of reaching to the root of those ‘troubles’. # Unaware he was even being put in a trance the doctor was surprised just how easily Jimmy went under and how simple it was to get him to react to any suggestion. Realising this empowerment the highly educated, hugely qualified, much in demand psychologist suddenly found his own issues rising to the surface. Anger that had been churning away in Jimmy all these years had transferred to the man who was charged with making him well. Retribution was a word that sprang into the doctor’s mind and Mr Jimmy Preston was going to feel the full force of that payback. This was not going to be the ‘stage hypnotist’ style of embarrassment; being a chicken or growling like a dog, the hunky Mr Preston was going to feel the intensity of that resentment. Stewart knew his desire for revenge could possibly lead to complications but he was determined to at least try. He wouldn’t have been the first psychologist to use his skill to get what he wanted from a patient. To train an easily receptive brain to do something different from the norm and become a vassal to the whims of the doctor. It was completely against any reasonable code of conduct but that was not going to be any kind of deterrent. Even after the many people he’d helped and given solace to the good doctor could not bring himself to do the same for Jimmy Preston. The scars ran deeper than he realised, so conceived a strategy that would reduce his patient to the same level he’d been when the bullying started. He started his mind manipulation by suggesting that every time Jimmy got angry, he pissed himself. ‘Yes’, the doctor thought, as he remembered the number of times he was left wearing wet pants after the bullies had set about him, ‘that was a very good place to start’. As a schoolboy he had returned home soaked on many occasions but an unsympathetic father and mother had dismissed his claims of bullying and solved their child’s ‘problem’ by making him wear a nappy to school. Of course, once the bullies found out, his life was made even more intolerable. # That was another level that added to his inability to forgive his patient. The young Stewart hated his uncaring and unsympathetic parents, both high-flyers who were incapable of dealing with a lonely and timid boy. As if it was his fault, they seemed to resent the child they’d brought into the world and scorned his love and need for any kind of compassion. It was as if the bullies and his parents conspired to make his life hell. They never took his claims seriously so attributed his wet pants and occasional soggy nights as ‘attention seeking’ - their solution; to return him to nappies until he was over it. But, with all the aggravation at school, he was a long time wearing such padding. # The doctor had issues and now they were swamping his head he was going to do what he had to do to seek some kind of satisfaction for a childhood full of woe. He could take his time because the number of sessions Jimmy had to attend was at his discretion. Whilst his patient was relaxed, deeply under and easily suggestible he set about his task; delving deep into his subconscious, tearfully prising out those long withheld triggers from a psychotic childhood. The doctor told him what a worthless, little baby he was, how everybody hated him and that he was in for a beating later on. It was a terrifying tirade, if you were a small child, and one that he himself had been dealt by the very man now crying and panic-stricken in front of him. As the tears streamed down his face Jimmy couldn’t control his bladder and a wet patch blossomed down the front of his trousers. The doctor felt triumphant. He would leave that piece of auto-suggestion in Jimmy’s brain so that any time that he got angry he’d revert to being a scared little kid. It was with some self-satisfaction that he noticed at later sessions, the hard man with anger issues would arrive wearing what appeared to be secure thick padding under his trousers. The soft rustling sound as he lay out on the psychiatrists couch was confirmed by the satisfying soft bulge that now occupied the front of his trousers. Jimmy didn’t know why he had suddenly started wetting himself. ‘Stress’ is what he put it down to, but wanted some control at least over these strange leaking problems he had developed, though far too embarrassed to mention to his psychiatrist. He had no idea why he was buying nappies, disposables and plastic pants but thought he’d come up with the idea of such protection all by himself. The one thing he was sure of was he didn’t want this particular fact permanently on file, so hid what he thought was secret. His doctor chuckled to himself at the man’s delusion. # Stewart was enjoying this feeling of domination so regressed Jimmy during each session making him act and talk like a frightened little boy. Despite his psychiatric training the feelings of revenge grew with each visit and although his patient left the couch acting relatively normally for a man of thirty-four, a nervous fear was now perched on his shoulder with each encounter with members of the public. More often than not, by the time he’d made it home his nappy would be soaked and he’d cry in frustration not knowing why he was unable to remain dry. He became anxious about everything, which led to even more sodden nappies. Throughout the many sessions not once did he bring up the subject of his reliance on protection with his psychiatrist. To begin with he was reticent to mention it but then it simply became part of who he was. He had no idea that his old foe was now calling the shots and making him dependent on such fluffy material keeping him relatively secure. With each session the doctor made the fear more intense but then he remembered that the only person at school who had tried to help him was his old geography teacher, Mr Hudson. When he had confronted the bullies, and Jimmy in particular, the teacher had also been threatened, had vile names spat at him and was accused of being a ‘fucking gay twat’ by this evil bunch of boys. The fact that the 62 year-old was gay made the inference hit a nerve that he never quite recovered from. The boys then took great delight in daily accusations and knife twisting into an honourable but defenceless old man. # After several weeks Dr Stewart Logan finished his final sessions by deeply regressing Jimmy and implanting the thoughts that he only sexually desired older men - that he would seek them out, offer himself and get upset if he was rejected. This rejection also manifested itself with a flooded nappy and babyish tears. Even though his wife may not want anything more to do with him, in future, he would want nothing more than to submit his taut, 34 year-old body for these elderly men’s pleasure and enjoyment. Unfortunately, Mr Hudson was long dead so couldn’t take up such an offer even if he’d wanted to, however, the doctor brought in a couple of his older, gay ex-patients to see the reaction. Jimmy submitted gladly to all demands and liked it even more when they spoke as if he was a small boy in need of encouragement. The control freak had been transformed into a polite, compliant, ready-to-please reformed character. The court was pleased at the clear bill of health on all anger issues that the doctor had provided and decided against the custodial sentence that had been hanging over the ex-violent criminal. The treatment was regarded as a success but nobody knew the real cost. Jimmy was no longer the angry young man he used to be but on a totally, mind-boggling different level, he was proving to be an emotional but dedicated addition to the gay community. The thick and ever present soaked nappy and protective plastic pants only adding to the athletic young man’s vulnerability, he was quite a hit with everyone. Jimmy quickly regressed to a thumb sucking little kid in a man’s body. He spent most of his time wearing just his protection, which became his trade mark look. He was never short of daddies keen to take a nappy-clad ‘youngster’ in hand and taught how to love and respect, occasionally via a spanking, all older men. Jimmy’s life is now one of service and one where he has no control over anything… especially his bladder. #####################################################

Does anyone have this story saved to there computer? I cannot find it anywhere.

First and foremost, thank you @Selpharia - author of the amazing "Of Capes, Cowls, and Cuddles" sci-fi epic - for sponsoring this story. Her interest in our work enabled and inspired Pudding and I to create this wonderful tale. The fact that Pudding's main character in Nightmare Asylum and Selphie's main character in C3 have the same name is purely coincidence! Or is it? *evil laugh* Pudding and I called this story 'Spoopy Nightmare Asylum' for like three months, so it's only fitting that Nightmare Asylum is the official name. I might be a little slow to update this one through because we literally just finished it and it has a ton of editing that needs doing. Anyway, I hope you like it! Disclaimers: diapers, wetting, messing, hypnosis, little, regression ------------------ Nightmare Asylum by: Sophie & Pudding 1.) ”A haunted house?" "No, dummy, a haunted children’s asylum from like old movies. You know, back before kids were drugged up all the time.” On the one hand, it was hard not to be interested, because we were both studying children’s psychology at the university, Ria and me, but on the other hand it was hard not to be disgusted because we were studying children’s psychology at the university. "You're not chicken are you? I mean I guess I can go and ask Cat Stone if she wants to go with me instead? You know that lil' closeted rug muncher's wanted to spend time alone with me for, like, ever..." I didn't like girls. Ria did. I didn't have a crush on her, but boy did she have one on me. And okay, I was a little manipulative. So? "Don't even say her name!" It wasn't that I had anything against Cat, it was just... well, she was prettier than I was. I hadn't quite let go of my high school self-consciousness issues. "Fine. You want to go into the stupid asylum? Then let's do it. I'm not afraid." Though I was notoriously afraid of everything. Bridget, on the other hand, wasn't afraid of anything. It was so annoying sometimes! And so sexy other times... Wahaha. Bridget strikes again! Calhoun Gardens wasn't even that far away, either, so the biggest issue was just waiting for it to be dark enough to be scary. Ria wanted to leave early, so we stopped at a Wendy's on the way to waste some time. Sometimes I felt like our movements with one another were a game of tug-o-war, or the world’s most childish game of chess; always trying to outplay one another. But we'd known each other since Freshman year, and had been untouchably close ever since. We just had... a dynamic. "Are you gonna eat your potato?” I waved a fry at my best friend, eating the way I usually ate: like somebody who'd never been an ounce over 130lbs despite a horrendous diet of fries and Mountain Dew. Genetics, am I right? "No, you can have it." I'd barely ate anything on the ride up. We were parked outside the gates of the building - tall and looming - and the sun had gone down twenty minutes ago. I was so nervous that I could feel it in my fingertips. There was a sign on the gate - readable even from here - that said "Keep Out". "What if we get caught? We'll get arrested. This is breaking and entering. We'll get expelled." "We're not athletes, you dummy, and we go to a state college; our behavior outside of school hours isn't some media spectacle." I rolled my eyes. I wiped my hands on a moist towelette a little too obsessively - because eating food with my fingers was somewhat of a breakthrough that Ria had manage to make with me in the time we'd known each other, but I still didn't like messy hands - and balled up the Wendy's bag to toss in the back of the car. "Okay it seems acceptably dark and spoopy outside now. You got charge on your phone?" I regretted that this wasn't the 1980's where we'd have flashlights and cool stuff like that, because everything we needed was on our phones. "Or, or, or! We could say we went in. And you know. Not go in. I like that plan." "You really are scared, huh?" Bridget sighed. "And here I thought it was sort of sexy, how you were willing to go into the scary dark asylum..." I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling warm inside. Damnit... "Let's go," I mumbled. Hahah! Bridget: 1. Ria's sense of realistic fear: 0. "Alright, let's go." When we got out of the car, Ria fumbled to lock it and I watched her, frowning. "Who's going to break into our car, you ditz? A ghost? Besides we might need easy access to the car if we're being chased by deranged spirits! She frowned. And quick like a bunny, I scampered up over the heavy iron gate that blocked our path. "There's a hole in the fence..." she quipped at me, as I landed, and I stuck my tongue out. "That's less dramatic. Come on!" I opted for the hole in the fence. I was never a very good athlete and that gate was awfully high. Once we made our way quietly across the parking lot, we came up against the side-entrance to the building. The asylum was huge - at least five stories. It took up half the block. "There is no way we are getting in. Everything is boarded up." I turned on my heel and started back toward the car. "Oh well, we tried!" "Yeah, I mean, I guess there's no way in." With a grunt of effort I pulled up the doors to the basement, angled against the side of the building, and waved my hands at the ensuing staircase down into the bowels of the sublevel. "This is so cool, can you imagine what went on here? I'm really curious. I bet it was horrible, though, and that makes for angry ghosts. I hesitated at the entrance. "Stop being a baby. Get down here." So I followed Bridget into the small, dark sublevel of the facility. I didn't even know how old this asylum was. But hysteria must have been a pretty big thing, right? Oh, I should have paid more attention in my psychology class... I fumbled for my flashlight on my phone. "Really? Selfie Light 2017? Don't you have any apps on your phone that aren't for taking your own picture?" I shouldn't tease, honestly, because Ria had the kind of confidence-issues in her appearance that few girls would ever muster, even at our age, and it did nothing to offset how much of a nervous nellie she was in every other area of her life. But hey, taking pictures helped her, right? "Hey the stairs are wet, be careful." That clumsy girl could trip over a strong breeze, so I was amazed we made it down to the bottom in one piece. The only problem was... "Ew..." We were standing in like two inches of stagnant, smelly water. "I am not going any further." "Stop being a baby," Bridget reiterated, but I shook my head. "These are new shoes. I am not going in there. No way, no how." "Then leave your shoes behind." "And step on a rusty syringe and die of poison?" I refused to go down the bottom step, even though the water didn't look that deep. "It's just water, and the sooner we get to the stairs to go up, the sooner we'll be out of it. And look it's not very deep so that means there won’t be any water upstairs, right?" I was pretty good at seeing the positives in things, almost annoyingly so, but she puffed her alabaster cheeks out in defiance anyway. "I'll piggy back you." Which I'm sure would go just fine given the fact she had four inches and twenty-five pounds on me, but hey, I was trying at least. "I don't need you to piggy back me!" I sighed and looked down at the water. Ugh. What else could I do? I'd have to wash my shoes the second I got home. I slowly put my foot down in the mucky water and followed Bridget through the dark corridors. Where were the damn stairs? It was hard to see, even with the flashlights on our phones, and to make it worse the ground beneath the water wasn't exactly smooth either. "Hey, look!" Stairs, at last! But as we got closer there was something just past the stairs... Troubled Patient Wing. We both stared at the doors with the faded paint and brass plaque, and shared glances. "Well we can't not go in there..." "Yes we absolutely can't!!" I went right to the stairs and got my feet out of the mucky water. Already I was regretting this trip. All it needed now was a spider or a ghost or a zombie child. I brushed the cobwebs off my jeans. But when I looked back behind me, Bridget wasn't there. Uh... "Bridget...? Bridget? This isn't funny... where are you?" "You have got to see this." Ria just about jumped out of her skin when I put my hand on her arm, and she shook her head quick as could be. "I promise if you don't want to stay when you see it, you can go, but you have to see it." She frowned. I grinned. I made sure I won. And just like the first time when I'd pushed through the double doors into the Troubled Patient Wing, things changed. There was plush red carpet beneath our soggy feet. Lighting. Soft music. A warm and inviting atmosphere. Like we'd stepped into a totally different place. ----------- The first five chapters are up on our Patreon! Please consider supporting us!!

I hate to ask, but I was kinda wondering if anyone be interested in doing an X-Men Evolution rp where Rouge does get hit by a mutant and the power she’s hit with slowly causes problems for her (like mental regression)? So it wouldn’t seem like a big deal and she would just seem off? At which point Gambit is put in charge to make sure she get’s better but things only get worse, to the point where she is basically a baby in an adult’s body. And Eventually he becomes her Daddy. But it doesn't necessarily have to have Rogue as the baby it could be two other characters....But it'd be nice to have Rogue babied. I'm also not interested in those who write just short one liners as replies.

Are babies born with all the knowledge they will ever need and they just… forget? Man and Child Howard shuffled around the aisles of the superstore, no matter where he went he always ended up in the diaper section. He had no idea why as he was there to shop for food, yet still, with his little basket empty, and no matter which way he turned, he ended back in the same aisle. At 82, Howard occasionally got confused. He’d watched his partner of forty years forget him, and everything else, as Alzheimer’s took control of his body nine years ago, he hoped that wouldn’t happen to him. However, there was no doubt about it; things were getting more and more difficult. His bladder more or less gave up two years ago but going back into diapers hadn’t been that much of a trauma. Earlier in their relationship they’d both enjoyed a bit of ABDL fun well, now, he had no choice if he didn’t want a stream of piss marking his route. The young man behind the counter was asking him if he was OK. Of course he was OK he was just asking him for a loaf of bread. The seventeen year-old apprentice butcher tried to explain that this was the meat counter, the bakery was on the other side of the store. The young lad was patient with the old man and tried to direct him to the correct place and after a few minutes of gentle persuasion Howard realised his mistake, thanked the boy and ambled off. He ended back at the baby’s diaper section yet again. He stood there remembering the fun they’d had and slowly felt the bulk that now occupied his own trousers, not out of fun these days but necessity. He wished he could go back, he wished he could live his life in these more enlightened times but, he was old and… what was he here for? Oh yes, he needed to buy something for dinner, that was it, dinner. He arrived at the checkout with his meagre provisions. Four items; sausages, bread, tea and milk - it wasn’t much but he’d always loved a sausage sandwich. By the time the queue had lessened and it was his turn to pay he felt quite odd. He was breathless, even though he’d done no exercise, and his head felt fuzzy. Once he’d paid for it he noticed the bench were normally old folk sat and chatted was empty. His heart was racing so shuffled over to it and gratefully sat down. ‘Whoa’, he was happy for the rest before he set off on the half mile walk back to his apartment but a deep agony that left him rigid with pain… as if his heart was fit to explode, engulfed him. He couldn’t move and his bladder had given way. He couldn’t prevent his few purchases falling to the floor, he couldn’t see anything but a blur…he couldn’t move… he couldn’t… ***** Where am I? I can hardly see. All I can hear is muffled sounds. I can’t make out what anyone is saying but there seems to be hundreds, well maybe thousands of people all talking. I can see them in my head as easily as I can see anyone else but my eyes just won’t focus on anything except… moving shadows, shapes and the occasional flash of… lightness. What the hell is going on? Am I in hospital? The tightness and pain has gone, yet for some reason, I’m crying. Why am I crying? I need to speak to someone. I need some answers. I need to shut these thousands of people up. They’re driving me mad. Every one of them is talking, explaining, emphasising… often in a language I don’t understand but I know they are trying to tell me something important - to impart some knowledge. If I can stop crying and listen for a while perhaps I’ll find out what all these people are doing here in my head. I’m snug and warm but I have no idea why. I suppose the store has put me somewhere, perhaps I’m in hospital, maybe I’m dreaming. No, it’s not that. I feel warm and protected and I’ve stopped crying. There are other voices now outside my head though I can’t understand what they’re saying. The voices in my head and the people I can feel in my brain are offering advice, showing me untold wonders, telling me all about the secrets of the universe. I can hear… I’m beginning to comprehend. I know I’ve had some kind of shock to my system but why are they telling me all these things now. Is it some kind of revelation, which I’ll need to know when I’m feeling better? Suddenly, a bright light but I see nothing. I am crying again but only for a short while before I am sucking on something. Why am I doing that? Oh, it’s nice. Mmmm I could get used to this. As I concentrate on getting sustenance, the voices begin to fade. No don’t go. I want to know the secrets of the universe and the meaning of… Well, I can’t speak with this in my mouth so I’ll ask them when I’ve finished. However, I can see all those shadows… one by one… slowly dissolving from my minds-eye… but it seems more important at this moment to keep sucking. I don’t know why. Therefore, I just suck and suck and suck… and sleep takes me. ***** When I open my eyes there is no one and I can hear nothing. The images and voices in my head have all gone but outside, the shadows and strange noises continue. What was it those voices were telling me? The secret of… Oh damn… I can’t remember but I know it must have been important from the way everyone was talking to me. Well, I’m sure it will come back but for the moment. Suck, suck, suck, suck… I think this is the weirdest dream but at least my chest is no longer filled with the tension of stress. I’m warm, happy, relaxed and… what is that feeling… that other feeling? Suck, suck, suck… What was it I was worried about? Why am I even thinking about… I’ve no idea? I can’t remember now, all I know is that I like this new feeling. I can’t even remember the voices or anything that was told to me but I don’t care. This new sensation is far better. I only have to cry and I get food. Suck, suck, suck… ***** My eyesight is getting better. I can make out strange people who are fussing over me. I can see my legs. That’s funny…God they are so small. Ohhhh… this is one hell of a dream. Ooops, someone has just picked me up. Now they are laughing and there’s powder and a smell of… not sure what that is. It’s all a bit clearer now, don’t know what all that other stuff was about. Erm…er… was there some ‘other stuff? I’m naked but I appear to being dressed in. Bloody hell… I must be in a bad way, they’re putting me in a diaper. I must have lost use of all my bodily functions. I’ll have to ask what is going on but every time I try to speak, all I end up doing is crying. Oh, this isn’t good. My brain is… erm, I’m not sure what…. Mmmm suck, suck, suck… Where am I? Who am I? Why doesn’t anyone speak to me except in those silly tones? I no longer understand a word being said. I can’t say a word. I gurgle, I cry. That’s it. But I need to express myself this is a living hell. I need help. Suck, suck, suck… but it’s all so warm and nice… Suck, suck, suck… The shapes in front of my eyes are becoming clearer. I don’t know who they are… nurses, my carers? I don’t know. I don’t know anything any more. My brain is going numb. I know something happened but I can’t remember… I’m held and kissed and the feeling is fantastic. I sleep. I feed. I sleep and the memory fades. “Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good little girl? Who’s a pretty baby?” Suck, suck suck…

Before reading this it is strongly recommended that you read both: Subliminal Baby: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/54377-subliminal-baby/ Subliminal Baby 2: Steven's Regression: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/55332-subliminal-baby-2-stevens-regression-finished/ --- This has been available on my Patreon for the past week and for a pledge of $5 a month you can see all my public stories posted one week before the rest of the world. For $10 there are exclusive stories as well! For more information on different tiers and rewards please visit: https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 A big thank you to all of my supporters and an especially big thank you to: A big thank you to everyone who supports me: DannyDazzler, Daniel O, Sophie S, Cole, Kyle L, Guilyn, Akithor, Keen Lover, Dre, Darrell, Jack C, Frank Sz, S Millard, Cheryl C, Carlota C, Alex W, Snazzycool, Ron M, M, Tsidt, Britnee L, Trenton M, Geoffrey J, Robert J, Chris, Cole T, Dorian G, BabyBB, J Land, Tim F, Cvsflip105, Chris B, WillNotWill, Jerry J, Charlie S, P, Orion F, John, Kevin H, Tom H, Sterling W, Ryan, Jens B, Thomas R S, Matthew S, Pierry L, Matthew, John D, Bojack D, Shihouin10, Scott S, Diapering Daddy, Miguel A, James B, A Random Patreon, Eric C, Ben R, C Dom, Lin John, Ben F, Henry C, Bob, Michelle G and Kent J --- Subliminal Baby 3 By Elfy Steven stared up from his crib at the mobile that was spinning slowly and playing it’s tune. He knew that he couldn’t hear his own voice reading out instructions but it felt like, if he really concentrated, he could hear a word or two every now and then. It was rather spooky to think that this mobile was going to have a profound impact on his life. Half of him hoped it wouldn’t work and the other half, remembering he could be left like this for a long time to come, thought it couldn’t start working soon enough. It had been a few days since Steven had begged his mother to start playing the tape for him but he couldn’t say he noticed much difference. His control had been slipping before the subliminal stuff had started and it didn’t seem to have become much worse in the last few days. Arguably the worst part of the next few days was the way his mom and brother looked at him. They seemed to be just as expectant as he was regarding the changes and he got annoyed about the way they looked at him and the way they were talking about him when they thought he couldn’t hear them. The first hint that something had changed was very subtle. One day, after being taken out of his crib following his afternoon nap, Karen, Steven’s mom, had left him on the floor of the bedroom as she went to start running a bath for him. Steven had looked to the side and seen some small toy racing cars. Without really giving any thought to what he was doing, Steven crawled sideways and sat on his wet rear. He reached down and began moving the cars. In just a minute or two he had become totally immersed in his game, he had devised ideas for racing tracks, he wanted to have a championship for all his cars, Steven of course would drive the fastest one! As Steven looked at the little cars he smiled and imagined himself on the winner’s podium in front of a huge crowd of cheering fans. He pictured himself holding up a trophy and… Steven was suddenly brought back to reality when he heard his mom clear her throat. He looked up as the crowds melted away to see Karen looking at him with a slightly perplexed look. Steven quickly stood up and followed his mother out of the room and into the bath where he was thoroughly cleaned. It was rather scary to be brainwashed like this. Steven felt like maybe his brain was resisting a little harder than Ritchie’s had and that was why it was taking longer. He liked to believe that at least, with his battered pride being assaulted on all sides it was nice to think that at least his mind had been a little stronger. “Please, Ritchie…” Steven said to his brother one morning after breakfast, “I’m sorry. Please!” “No.” Ritchie replied quickly and simply. He simply didn’t believe that his younger brother had learnt his lesson yet. Steven knew the only way to stop this subliminal messaging from happening was if his brother stopped it. He felt his heart drop when Ritchie turned him down but he wasn’t surprised by it. After what he had done to Ritchie he didn’t expect to be allowed out of this hell for a while. Ritchie’s girlfriend, Linda, seemed to take particular joy in the new status quo and obviously enjoyed Ritchie’s revenge on Steven. Most of the work of looking after Steven was done my Karen, Steven and Ritchie’s mother, but it really didn’t seem like she minded looking after Steven at all. Steven was a little worried and suspicious that if it were up to her he would never be allowed to be an adult again. “Hey, Mom?” Ritchie asked just as Karen started gathering the cutlery up. “Yeah?” Karen replied. “Linda’s been bugging me…” Ritchie started as he looked at Steven, “Could we take the baby out to the park or something?” Steven’s eyes flew wide and he uselessly shook his head. He had only been taken out twice since this whole mess had started. The disastrous shopping trip and the moment his friends all found out what was happening to him. The last thing he ever wanted to do was leave the house. “That sounds lovely!” Karen replied with a smile a she walked out to the kitchen. “Cool.” Ritchie smiled a cold smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He looked at Steven with some satisfaction. Steven was taken out of his chair and allowed to play in his nursery for a while. He didn’t know when this planned trip was going to be, one of the worst parts about this whole thing was how little control he had of his own life. He had no say on where he went or when he did anything, it didn’t take long for the mind to start getting used to this type of life. It soon became entirely normal for Steven to just not think or plan anything out, all he could do was react to circumstances. As he sat down with his toys, Steven felt his diaper suddenly warm around him. His control had been slipping since even before the subliminal messaging had started but it had got much worse recently. Steven looked down as he felt the diaper warming but had no real way of stopping himself. It was like his brain had forgotten how to control his bladder. As much as Steven had expected this to happen, it was still very scary. Ritchie burst into the room without knocking about an hour after Steven had started playing. He smiled down at Steven who looked up from the floor in shock and with a little fear. “Looking forward to your day out?” Ritchie asked sarcastically as he walked into the room. Steven shook his head. He hadn’t really lost his verbal skills but he found it a lot easier to just not talk these days. Like making himself speak would take a huge effort. He knew this was another symptom of the tape he was listening to every night but knowing about it didn’t help fight it when it seeped into your brain whilst asleep. “Don’t be like that!” Ritchie continued. He walked forward and pressed the warm padding against his brother’s crotch, “Some fresh air will be great for you.” Steven shuddered slightly. It was only more recently that he remembered the part of the messaging that made the diapers exciting. Even little touches like this made him tingle down between his legs. “I guess I better change you before Linda gets here.” Ritchie said as he felt the wet padding. “Mommy?” Steven asked. He blushed a little but he was trying to ask if Karen could change him. He felt even more embarrassed when it was Ritchie that changed him. “Come on, Little Bro.” Ritchie said as he ignored Steven’s childish request. Ritchie pulled Steven over to the changing table and Steven sighed as he climbed up with Ritchie’s help. Steven’s diaper crinkled loudly and was a constant reminder of his humiliating status. Ritchie started pulling the tapes off of Steven’s diaper as soon as was laying on his back. He lowered the front of the wet padding and pulled the diaper out from underneath his brother. He smiled snidely as Steven’s penis twitched slightly. Ritchie remembered this well, he remembered the uncontrollable sexual arousal that came with the diapers thanks to the messaging. He didn’t do anything to help his brother out though. Pulling out a clean and fresh diaper. A big and thick disposable diaper, white with little pictures on them, was unfolded. Ritchie lifted up his younger brother’s legs and slipped the diaper underneath him. When Steven’s legs were lowered again it was on to fresh and fluffy padding. It almost felt pleasant but Steven tried to hide that, he didn’t want to start appreciating this new type of underwear. The diaper was rapidly pulled up between Steven’s legs and taped closed. Steven sighed sadly and quickly climbed off of the table after he felt the new diaper tightly taped together. Steven stood very still as his brother started going through the drawers full of their “little” clothes. The clothes that were big enough for adults but styled like a baby. Steven shuddered at the thought of not only being taken out but also being taken out whilst dressed in any way like a baby. He could feel tears threatening to overwhelm him but he did his best to hide his emotions, he knew that it was the subliminal messaging making him overly upset. “This looks good.” Ritchie eventually said as he turned around with an outfit picked out. Steven felt his heart drop when he saw a bright yellow shirt with a popular children’s television show printed on the front and a pair of white shorts that looked like they would be too small even without the diaper underneath them. “Lift your arms up.” Ritchie ordered. Just as Steven did so there was a sudden noise downstairs. The doorbell rang and Ritchie immediately perked up. He dropped the clothes on the floor at Steven’s feet as his younger brother scowled at him. “You can get yourself dressed, right?” Ritchie said as he walked towards the door, “I’ll be back in a minute.” Steven watched Ritchie walk out of the door and was thankful for some time alone, even if it was just a minute or so. Being able to dress himself was a very small victory, but a victory nonetheless. A good chance to prove that he was still an adult, a chance to do something for himself. Picking up the infantile shirt, Steven lifted it up and suddenly paused. He looked at it quizzically, he turned it around, he turned it upside down and he frowned as he tried to work out how these things work. Steven felt his stomach drop and heat rising in his face as he realised he couldn’t remember how to put on the shirt. It was the simplest thing in the world, something he learned to do as a very young child… So why was he staring at this piece of clothing like it was one of the most complex things he had ever seen. “Come on…” Steven said to himself in a panic, “This is easy.” Steven’s memory was taken back to when he was regressing Ritchie and his brother came to him when he needed help with his diaper. Despite it being easy and something he had done countless times before, the subliminal messaging was forcing him to forget simple things. Panic began to set in as Steven couldn’t sort this simple task out. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and as he tried to sniff them back they started to roll down his cheeks. He felt so useless, so helpless and he just wanted his Mommy to come and help him. Steven threw the shirt on the floor in a fit of anger. He was frustrated with the whole world and he dropped to the floor. He sat down with his arms folded across his chest and started sobbing softly. He didn’t want any of this, he didn’t want to go out, he didn’t want to cry. All he wanted to do was stay at home forever. “… and I said we could take him out an-” Ritchie stopped talking as he opened the door and looked at the scene in front of him. His younger brother was quietly crying next to the pile of clothes. “Oh God.” Linda said as she followed Ritchie into the room, “What’s going on?” “I have no idea…” Ritchie said to his girlfriend. He turned to his brother, “Steven? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you dressed?” Steven took a few moments to catch his breath. He tried to calm himself now, he knew he was stupid to be this upset but his emotions were out of control. He tried to regain control of his breathing but it was incredibly difficult. “I… I… Can’t remember…” Steven sobbed as he picked up the shirt again. “You don’t remember how to get dressed?” Ritchie asked with furrowed brows. Steven shook his head as he blushed. It didn’t help when Linda covered her mouth and started giggling. “I remember that…” Ritchie said quietly to Steven, “Scary, isn’t it?” Steven nodded his head quickly. Ritchie helped Steven back to his feet and picked up the shirt. He fed it over Steven’s head and pulled it down. It stopped just below the waistband of the diaper he was wearing. Next, Ritchie held the shorts out and allowed his brother to step into them. Once the shorts were around Steven’s ankles, Ritchie began pulling them up. It was a real stretch to get them over the thick diaper but eventually they got it over the top. Not that this was much of a relief for Steven, when he looked in the mirror it was very obvious how padded he was. The material of the shorts was pulled so tight that you could see bits of the diaper through it. The shirt was no help. It barely covered anything and any slight movement pulled it up to show the waistband underneath. To put it bluntly, no one that saw Steven would be under any illusion as to what he was wearing. The colour drained from his face when he realised that he could be seen by a lot of people. “Cute as a button.” Linda smiled. Ritchie snickered beside her and nodded his head. He gave her a little kiss on the cheek and smiled. He grabbed Steven’s hand and pulled him, a little roughly, from the room and towards the stairs. He laughed when he heard Steven’s whimpers mixed with the obvious crinkling noises. Ritchie put Steven’s shoes on for him whilst Linda headed into the kitchen and soon returned with a picnic selection of sandwiches and snacks to take with them. The fact that they seemed to be making this into a real day out was no comfort to Steven who watched with mounting trepidation. He was still preoccupied with the fact that he couldn’t remember how to dress himself and he was on the verge of panic when Ritchie pulled him to his feet, took him by the hand and led him out towards Linda’s car.

Alright, this wild beast of a story I started to write over a year ago, but I haven't finished as much of it as I would've liked. Still, I'm gonna post what I have over the coming days. It's a little story about a woman, a wish-fulfilment app, and how one chance for greatness can bring out both the worst and the best in us. Enjoy. From This Day Forth by Frostwyrm Part 1 Leslie Audet Is A Wishmaker Chapter 1 Wishmaker It was a few minutes before 6 AM and Leslie Audet could feel that it was just another cold november morning. The windows to her apartment were closed, but she was positive that it was frosty even in here. She groaned, still half-asleep, and tried to bury her head beneath the sheets. It was slightly warmer, but not by that much of a margin. She needed new sheets, some which actually did their job during this most joyous of seasons. The woman knew that, but also knew that she wouldn't get to buy any this month or the next, or probably ever. Unless she got a raise, which was of course doubtful. She stayed beneath the sheets, closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep again. It was something she'd done quite often in her college days, where she'd managed to get more sleep when at any other time in her life. Those days were over, as her alarm clock decided to remind her. Its horrible noise shattered the peace of mind she established and made the woman jump up and storm across the floor, every step a painful reminder of how cold it was in here. She slammed her hand down on the damn thing and then there was only silence. Leslie remained there for a moment. The city's lights managed to penetrate those old curtains of hers with ease and covered her bedroom in a dim luminescence. It was, like the rest of her apartment, entirely unremarkable. An unremarkable wardrobe, an unremarkable cabinet, and an unremarkable bed with slightly stained sheets. Leslie would have lied if she said she liked how it looked. A noise came from above, she heard the ceiling creak as someone moved. She heard a loud voice, screaming obscenities, which was soon added by more voices complaining about the rising noise levels. Leslie let out a sigh as she stared down on her alarm clock. The worst part about sunday mornings was always when it woke up the guy above her, as he was one of those cholerics who went into a frenzy whenever anything happened. Leslie hated that guy as much as this apartment, but after five years of this, it was pretty much a part of her routine. As the complaining died down and everybody presumably receded to their beds again, Leslie, with another sigh, went for the door and into the biggest room of her apartment. Flipping on the light switch, she casually glanced over an unremarkable couch, an unremarkable table and unremarkable boxes piling up along the wall. Ignoring it all, she went straight for the bathroom and used the chance to glance directly into the mirror. "Still a gorgeous baby girl," Leslie remarked through clenched teeth. Needless to say, she hated how she looked. It wasn't the fact that she was thirty-nine or that her red hair decided that now was the right time to start getting grey. It wasn't that she was particularly unhappy with those small breasts that pushed against the fabric of her nightdress, nor the wrinkles, which looked like they were becoming more and more prominent, day after day. Neither was it her many freckles. No, it was the nightdress itself. A cute, pink thing with frills and her name stitched onto the right breast. She'd gotten it for a discount after befriending a skilled tailor in university, but that had been more than a decade ago. She hated looking at herself, a woman that looked almost too eager to grow old, in clothing that made her feel so childish. Leslie sighed and proceeded to lift the dress up, so that her underwear became visible. She stared at it for a moment. The legs truly didn't belong to a young girl anymore and the diaper almost looked like it fit perfectly to her new, granny-sort of look. Another sigh escaped her as she let the dress fall. At least her continence was still in tact, as her bladder made itself noticed rather quickly, but she didn't care about the pressure and just let herself go in the diaper. It was a process she was used to, by this point, but standing in the mirror, knowing the diaper was getting soaked beneath that frilly dress, it actually brought a smile on her face. "Still a gorgeous baby girl," Leslie told herself with a bit more confidence. She couldn't be a real child, so she'd have to settle for dressing like one. How old she got didn't matter, Leslie told herself and turned to walk away from the bathroom. She turned the light off behind her and quietly walked into her living room, seating herself on the couch and staring at the TV monitor and the console below. Five games remained, the rest of her once so vast collection she'd pawned off. This room looked dull, too, so Leslie decided to kick back and just stared at the ceiling. The slight crinkle of the diaper was her only respite, as every sunday morning. She missed having a computer, but the internet wasn't for her, not after Clara had messed her life up in a most ridiculous manner. Well, it hadn't exactly been Clara's fault. Forming friendships at work was different than at college and Leslie had been far too idealistic concerning that horrible woman. Time crawled along in the slowest pace imaginable and the artificial illumination gave way for the natural light of the sun. Leslie, as always, only barely noticed, as she never bothered to move her curtains. The woman in the apartment on the opposite side of the road was a rather prominent person in the district. While it was clear that she suffered from some sort of mental illness, she was apparently deemed safe enough to live on her own. So she took to stalking people or staring at them from her apartment window. Leslie had made the mistake of befriending her five years ago, much like she had tried to do with everyone back then. The results had left her with a distrust towards law enforcement and a rather jaded opinion of lawyers. Her grumbling stomach ripped Leslie away from her thoughts. She was thankful for the timely intervention of her body, lest she'd go down another bad road and rose up immediately, only to be interrupted by the ringtone of her mobile phone. She turned to the door, where her jacket hang and hurried over there, picking up her phone from a pocket. The number spelled out on it belonged to a friend of hers, one who only ever called these days to whine about her life. Another sigh escaped Leslie as she pressed a button and answered the phone. "Heya, Annie," she said with as little enthusiasm as possible. She expected to hear the noise of someone crying, some gurgle of meaningless words crashing against her delicate eardrums, but none of that was found. "Yo, Leslie, you wanna meet up today?" The voice sounded both happy and sober, two states of mind Leslie thought impossible to coexist within Annie at this point, so she just remained silent for a second too long. "You still there?" She shook her head. "Wha? Yeah, of course I'm still here. You sound lively, did something happen?" "I'll tell you when you get over here," the voice said over the phone. Leslie rolled her eyes but looked around her home. She didn't really feel like spending the rest of her sunday in this rotten place. "Sure," she answered, trying for a smile. "Cool, when can I expect you?" "Somewhere around ten, if that's alright with you." "Sure. Do hurry up, though. Weatherman said there's gonna be heavy snowfall today." "Kay, bye," Leslie answered and closed the call before Annie could answer. She remained standing for a moment more, feeling the padding press against her legs and her bottom, so soft and comfortable. Considering she only just wet it, she wondered whether she could keep it on and just get some pants, but decided against it. She went into the bathroom once more, took off the diaper, rolled it up and threw it into the bin she kept for them. After that she wiped her privates with some toilet paper. It took her about half-an-hour more to put on makeup and dress herself but forewent breakfast, as she did almost every single day. Today she opted for unremarkable pants, a sweater and the thickest jacket she had. Then she got her scarf, a woolen hat and mittens. Everything was ready and then she went out into the stairway. The floors looked as rustic as the apartments, yet it seemed more of a charm point here than inside. She ignored it, told herself that it was just her home being horrible and then locked the door. As she walked down she saw the landlord by the door. He was an arab-looking man in his mid-thirties, who was slightly overweight, sharply dressed and had one of those large beards which had gotten trendy at some point or another. Leslie put on her best smile as she walked down the stairs. "Hello, Asad," she said, keeping to the first name basis they'd established over the years. "Morning, Leslie," he said, not even looking at her, as he checked his mail. "I've gotten complaints about your alarm clock, again. Most people want to sleep in on sundays, so could you make my life easier and do the same?" She halted in her tracks as he said that, felt a shiver run down her spine. For some weird reason, people telling her off made her feel almost a child again, mischevious and small. But Asad was like the rest of the world and he wasn't part of her littlespace. Of course, she knew that there were complaints, since the house was pretty clairaudient. So, Leslie nodded. "I'll turn it off on sundays, then. That should get everybody off your back." He looked at her with a soft smile. Once, Leslie had considered him attractive, but that had been before he'd grown himself that horrid beard. "Thanks, Leslie," he said, before he turned his eyes back to the letters. And with that she vanished out into the open city. The district she lived in was worn-down, dirty, but at least wasn't filled with as many criminals as one might expect. There were some people Leslie would've described as ill of mind, at least one drug dealer and she was also certain that the boss of the chinese restaurant was involved with the mafia, but that was everybody she could think of. Yes, this district might be among the worst in the city, but she could still tolerate it. The worst part living here was the weather anyway. If it wasn't raining, it was cloudy and if it wasn't cloudy, there was fog. Even today the sky was colored in a grim grey-ish tone that would soon give way to snow. Honestly, she wasn't sure how happy she should be about this, but decided to not care. Instead, she walked along the streets of her home and watched how the city came more and more to life as she walked out of that broken down district. There weren't that many people on their way, so she was happy to take the subway to her friend's place. Some personnel checked the tickets, some homeless lady tried to sell her a paper she didn't want to buy and, of course, some creepy guy in a long coat leered at her. At least he got out a station before her, so that was a plus point. Annie lived ten stations away from Leslie, on the edge of the city, where the air smelled of salt and the rushing of waves could be heard in the distance. It was a green place during the summers, with lots of trees by the wayside, expensive hotels and shops. The residents had said it was a victim of gentrification, rent spiked, many people from five years ago were gone. Leslie knew that the few people who spent their lives here were either already looking for a new home or trying to fight a hopeless fight against the new city the politicians were creating. Of course, Annie was neither of those. Annie lived close to the daycare where she used to work, before she had her emotional breakdown. Paranoia, drug addiction, anancasms, it had all sent her down a steep cliff. Nowadays, the woman kept to herself, spent her days hiding away, drinking booze, crying how miserable her life was and failing to get proper treatment for her mental illnesses. Once upon a time, Leslie had liked her, but as she approached the house Annie lived in, she couldn't help but feel the want to turn right back around. She rang the doorbell, which was answered by a ring of the door, signalling her to open it. Inside, the house was of a much better quality than her place. The ceiling didn't look cracked, the stairs were freshly painted, the smell of chemicals was in the air as the housekeeper had clearly gone over the floor recently. Annie lived on the third floor, where she occupied a two room apartment much like Leslie's, except, of course, much better decorated. And more filled with trash last she checked in. Annie had become sort of a hoarder ever since she started to fear her neighbours. Leslie prepared herself for a horrid smell to drift into her nostrils, but as the door opened, she was greeted by the soft smell of scented candles and a warm smile by her friend. "Leslie," Annie said and put her arms around the other woman. "You came!" "Yeah, of course I did," she answered, awkwardly putting her arms around Annie's back. The other woman loosened her grip. "Come in. Come in," she said and gestured for Leslie to follow her. So she did, closing the door behind her. Annie Sherman was a grotesquely fat woman of fifty years with a pig nose and hair she dyed a different color every month. This time it was a shade of red mixed in with streaks of blue. Leslie thought it looked ugly, but admitted to herself that she was just worried that there would be less grey in Annie's hair than her own. Annie also managed to dress in unflattering clothing, but Leslie knew that she'd simply stopped caring at one point or another. They walked into the woman's living room, which reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, though there were some trash bags scattered across the floor. Old food was rotting away on the table, right beside a fresh bag of potato chips. She spotted four candles burning behind them, all vanilla scented and the windows were open, too. Still, the different odors mixed together in a sickly sweet smell. Leslie hated it immediately. "So, you're still the same, huh?" She asked, kicking a trash bag that lay in her way. Annie cleaned some magazines off the couch and gestured Leslie to sit down, though she herself only moved away after putting the magazines down the couch again and lifting them up again. She did that four times and finally receded to the wall by the window. "Yeah," she said with an awkward smile. "I got in touch with another doc, though. So I hope that goes well." Leslie shrugged and finally settled down, looking at the old food. She wasn't sure what it was, but once upon a time, probably a soup. She looked at it and then couldn't bear it anymore, taking it and walking into Annie's kitchen. Her friend quietly watched, as if she was trying evaluate what was happening. Leslie figured it some new fear, some new compulsion and didn't really care. She cleaned the bowl with her hands, since Annie had no dishwasher. The fat woman walked up to the kitchen door, still looking at her. "You don't need to do that, you know?" Once more, Leslie shrugged. "I like work, helps me not think about my own shit." Annie folded her arms and leaned against the door, it creaked ever so slightly. "Still trouble with that Clara woman?" "Everybody started ignoring me ever since the new boss showed up. He cares about how we treat each other, mostly because he doesn't want any drama at work. Clara just tries to be subtle about it, as always and when he's not there … I guess I should find a new job." "You've been saying that for two years now," Annie said, her gaze piercing through Leslie. She smiled at that. Leslie didn't intend to get another job. She'd considered suicide more seriously than that. It wasn't just moving away from the city. She had no coin, no family, no idea how to even start a new life somewhere else. Somewhere along the line, she'd lost the spunk of her youth and just wanted to remain in an endless cycle of daily work. That was the adult thing to do, after all. "I'm just complaining, it's not really as bad as I make it out to be," Leslie said, water flowing through her finger, an empty smile on her lips. "Rick said Clara's a high functioning sociopath, your co-workers are all sheep and your boss is blind to anything that doesn't concern whatever your company does," Annie said. Rick was another man she knew, an old love that remained at least a steady friendship. He was also far too open about other people's problems, which left Leslie exasperated. "She's not a sociopath, my co-workers got their own lives to deal with and my boss cares about the company. Rick just knows what I told him at my worst, seriously. Don't take his word over mine. Can we talk about something else now?" Annie shrugged. "I just wanted to make conversation, geeze." Then make it without digging into open wounds, you idiot, Leslie thought, rolling her eyes. Thinking of another topic was hard. Of course, she could've complained to Annie about Annie, but that seemed hardly appropriate. So she just quietly finished up with the bowl, before she went back to the couch in the living room and sat down. "What did you want to talk about anyway?" "Actually," Annie said and went for her pockets, took out her mobile phone. "I wanted to talk to you about something that might interest you." She sat down beside Leslie, typing wildly on her phone. Her fingers were thick and clumsy, how she managed to work a phone with them was far beyond Leslie. Either way, she was happy that this wasn't going to end up in a whine-a-thon like almost every other meeting they had these days. At least, she thought so at first, but then she noticed how Annie clicked her tongue while she typed, a clear sign that she just got caught up in another compulsion. Leslie looked at her, impatiently drumming her fingers on her knees. The only thing that made her stay now was that she didn't want to go home. Now that people were awake, she knew that the sounds would be unbearable. She hated it and Asad wasn't helping, since he only ever talked about the noises she made, all while dismissing her own complaints. "Is the price of this place still good?" "My landlord spent the last two months raising the rent. It's still affordable, but not for much longer, why?" "Because I hate my place," Leslie answered truthfully. "I don't think you want to live together with me. I know I'm wearing you out." "You already did," Leslie said and gave her friend a smile to take the edge off her words. It worked, it always did, as Annie gave her a small smile back. "Are you searching for a new place?" "Not in earnest. I've got the cheapest apartment in the city, or close to it anyway, and my job won't pay enough for a bigger one." Annie nodded. "Maybe you should look for another one. You're smart, I'm sure you find something." She sighed. "I'm working for a company that spent the past few years growing. Everyday I'm expecting a raise, since everybody knows how much I'm helping out with everything." "Those are just excuses, though." Leslie let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe, maybe not. I won't stake my whole livelihood on the off chance that I might find better work, though." Annie's fingers danced across the phone and the woman exhaled loudly, shaking her head. "You're just wasting away, though." That much was true, Leslie had to admit, but in the same vain, she simply shrugged. "We all do." Annie's eyes fell and she looked at the phone for a solid minute. The quiet was welcome, since Leslie could take the chance to not think about her life, but rather something, anything else. They only got older and with every year that passed, Leslie wanted to think about what she'd done until now less and less. In a way, she knew that Annie felt the same way, but she blamed it on her illnesses, that she'd lived happily before. Maybe it was true, maybe not. Leslie couldn't find an answer. "I've got it, take a look." Leslie leaned over to catch a glimpse at whatever it was that Annie offered her. A website, with a simple blue design and in its middle was a window where one could type their name. She raised an eyebrow, "So you found a shady website on the internet? Color me impressed," she said sarcastically. "No, sheesh. Rick told me about it. It's a weird site. You type in your name and then it just asks a few questions." "Still sounds shady, though." Leslie looked at her friend who handed her the phone. "Try typing in your name. You'll see what I mean with weird." The woman sighed and did as she was told. Leslie Audet, she typed and suddenly a question flashed up before her. Do You Want Your Wishes To Come True? She stared at the window for a moment. Should she ask Annie, or just answer the question? A shiver ran down her spine, like bug crawling down and covering her in ice, and as it went, she stopped wondering and just started typing her answer. She hit Enter and then looked at the phone as the site vanished and gave way to Annie's social network profile, where the mother texted her daughter rather viciously. Leslie ignored it and looked at Annie. "The fuck was that?" Annie shrugged. "Rick told me about it, it seemed fun, so I shared it with you." Yet Leslie couldn't quite follow that train of thoughts. "It was just a question. I don't even know what just happened with it. Who programs a site to ask a dumb question? Are they trying to be ominous?" "It's more like a game. You get a message later on where they explain the rules. It's creepy at first, but you get used to the questions. I wanted to tell you because the messages indicate that some big event is happening on monday." The vagueness of those sentences made Leslie weary. "Why would you want to share a game with me?" Annie offered her a sad smile. "You'll see. It asks you if you have a wish, a desire you want to have fulfilled. I said that I want to leave my fears behind. I want to walk the outside world again, get back to work and life and everything I left behind. It said that on monday, I would find myself in a world where my wishes would come true. I don't think it's true, but a part of me does. I don't know, but I thought, considering how much you've been there for me the past few years, it might be some fun for you, too." She felt her head hurting and rubbed her temples. "Really? You called me over for this dumb shit?" Leslie shook her head and gave the phone back to her friend. "You do know I've got better things to do, right?" "Leslie, I–" Leslie rose up. "Stuff, Annie. I've got stuff to do!" Before her friend could answer, she went for the door, happy that she kept the coat and shoes on. She closed the door without even saying goodbye and left the house without further notice. Outside, snow was falling and she stared up at the sky. Countless snowflakes fell down from the sky and Leslie could only hope that it wouldn't end up like last winter. She hated to go to work through ice and snow. Either way, the sunday was hers now and she still needed to stay away from her home. And Annie, too, since this was pretty much the biggest waste of time she'd ever sent Leslie on. The question from the site still lingered on her mind, though, and she reached for her own. It was a prize she'd gotten from Rick last christmas, one of the few gifts she could truly use. She turned it on and found it ringing with a message, though it came from noone she knew. If You Want That Wish To Come True, Just Hit Enter. She stared for a moment, then looked back at Annie's apartment. There was a second part to this? Leslie groaned, but hit enter nonetheless. If it was a virus, she didn't care. There was no vital information on that phone and she could do well without the ability of getting calls. Instead of a virus, she received another message, however. To Write Out One True Desire Is All It Needs To Set You On The Path Where All Your Wishes Come True: There was an empty box beneath the message for her to write in, she looked at it and then up at the sky again. It wasn't like she had anything better to do, so as she started to walk back to the train station she started to think on her answer. She didn't think it was true, either. Of course she didn't think that. The city was dull and grey and boring, but it was her life and she knew that there was no more way to change it. She'd robbed herself of that hope. Her legs were hurting, there was an aching to her back and she felt a hundred years older than she was. On whim, she decided to answer. "To have a young body again." But she didn't hit enter, instead let the answer stand there. Leslie stopped in her walk, wondered how a world might look where this might work, where this would send her to a younger body. What would she even do with it? What sort did she want? She'd read some stories about alternate dimensions, about regressing into a younger body. It was a fantasy she liked, something she loved to happen to her. Half-heartedly she also remembered some roleplaying she'd done in the past, the ages her characters had been. Always children, innocent and unspoiled by the rotten world. "To have a body of ten years again," she corrected the writing and sent the message to wherever. Then she put the phone away again, sighing heavily. Monday morning, 6 AM was when her long road to death continued and in truth, wishful thinking wouldn't be of any help then. Knowing that, she decided to take the train to the very last station, where she could at least take a walk and enjoy some unspoiled nature.

Gabrial is a 22 year old coming home after finishing his fifth year in college as he is working on his master's degree. He doesn't visit home very often and rarely calls home as he tries to be as independent as possible. As consequence for his attemps he has not talked to his mother in almost a year as he did not go home for Christmas break or spring break. He just hopes his mother hasn't been too lonely without her only son.

My Nightmares Have Become Dreams Part 1 The crowd is cheering as I stand almost on the halfway line at Wembley Stadium. I have just scored the most spectacular long-range goal of my career in this, the final game that will determine the Premier League title. One hundred thousand people are shouting my name “Joey, Joey, Joey”. One hundred thousand people’s eyes are on me as I become aware that… all was not what it appears. I don’t understand. As I stand with my arms held aloft in celebration, everything suddenly goes quiet. Where has my shirt disappeared to? Why are my shorts suddenly slipping down my thighs… and why can I do nothing to prevent this from happening? Here I am, alone in the middle of the pitch, naked but for a thick nappy and the crowd starts laughing at me. I see my image up on the big screen. The terry-towelling nappy is held together at the front by a single huge pink safety pin. It all looks so thick and immense in close-up. The laughter grows as I try to hide my embarrassment; the big screen captures every detail. There is nowhere to hide and I can do nothing to conceal my shame. There appears to be no one else on this hallowed turf to protect me. No team mates, no opposing team… where have they all gone? The supporter’s laughter reaches hysterical levels as they point and shout - wondering if I wanted my mummy… ‘Do you want your bot-bot changing?’ ‘Do you need a dummy?’ ‘Ahhh, poor widdle baby’. They all appear to be screaming baby-talk at me and as they do so, the flow of warm piss into my nappy is picked up by the camera, as is the fact that I am now on the verge of tears. The crowd’s mocking intensifies. Abruptly, as if from nowhere, a man in black appears by my side. I recognise him as a referee and he is carrying something. He pulls a whistle from his mouth and sticks it in my own but it isn’t his whistle, it’s a dummy, all pink and bulbous. I suck on it briefly and it restores some calm but then he thrusts a teddy bear into my arms, which for some reason I gratefully accept and start to cuddle. That’s when my bowels let loose and I fill my nappy once more only now, the camera picks out the huge discolouration on the seat. The big screen displays my disgrace, while a hundred thousand voices rise in laughter filling my head as I am led crying from the field of play, waddling slowly in my heavy, sagging nappy, towards the exit. **** The noise rouses me from my sweaty dream. The alarm clock radio was on full blast and playing some heavy hard thrash music. This isn’t what I want to wake up to but neither is the state of my bed and worst of all, my PJs. This is the fourth night in a row that I’ve had the same dream. A moment of absolute triumph is destroyed to become a distressing nightmare. This is also the fourth time I have messed my bed and the commotion of my noisy alarm clock and my sudden yelp of realisation as to what has happened had brought mum into my room. There is no getting away from the evidence; the mess, the smell and my guilty face are all she needs to know that it has happened again. She screws up her nose and says quite calmly “That’s it.” I instantly know what she means. She isn’t going to put up with my ‘problem’ anymore and she already told me, after the first incident, that I should sleep with protection to save my embarrassment and her having to wash and clean up after me. She isn’t a terrible woman, but at 18 I should be able to control my body. My two younger brothers have no trouble getting up in the night and only my little baby sister Maria (a very late arrival to the family) needs help with her toilet requirements. Mum has already indicated that, to spare my blushes she wasn’t going to tell anyone else about my problem but, and there are no buts to her argument, I will be wearing a nappy and plastic pants to bed for the foreseeable future. It’s what my baby sister needs and that is exactly how I will be treated. She did add that if I can go an entire month without wetting or messing then she’ll rethink my extra night time ‘equipment’. Meanwhile, she put in a call to her colleagues at the hospital where she worked (that was before the arrival of the baby) and got her plans underway. As the eldest son I have my own room, which I have made clear to my younger brothers they do not enter (on pain of some unspoken evil) without my express permission but I did notice that they both caught a whiff of my bodily secretions and may already have guessed what had happened. I didn’t get chance to disagree with my mum especially when dad told me that I was lucky that was all that was required of me. His stern expression emphasising that arguing would not only be pointless but might make for a more severe punishment (although mum didn’t see it as a punishment, merely sensible protection). My dad wasn’t convinced that I couldn’t do anything to stop what was happening and thought I was just being an uppity, slovenly teenager. He had very little time for his eldest son, who in his opinion, seemed to have regressed to a little baby and he had enough responsibility with his (unexpected) youngest child to cope with. **** The school year was almost over, exams taken and lessons more or less abandoned as we lazily went through the actions of those final days. I had no idea why my dream should cause me so much anxiety; I liked football but it wasn’t going to be my career. I’d breezed through the exams and assumed I’d done pretty well but, with the holidays looming, I still hadn’t found a part time job to see me through summer and my eventual results. What was more embarrassing was that my two younger brothers both had jobs. Gary, who is 12, has a paper round and Steve, who is 15, works with his mate on his father’s fruit and veg stall in the market over the weekend. Dad has refused to finance, what he sees as my lazy attitude to work, so I have no money. He thinks I could have found something, anything, if I’d tried but to him this is all part of my lethargic and disinterested way I live my life, always depending on others. This bout of bed wetting is just further proof of my ‘indolence’ of ‘can’t be bothered even getting up and going to the bathroom’ and his anger with me is on the cusp. I feel that if I argue, complain or in any way annoy him he’ll just explode and it will be worse for me. **** I had planned a first holiday with my girlfriend Kate to start the week after the school year finished. We thought we’d take a break before she had to start work whilst waiting for our results and eventually university. We’d planned on going to the same one, although taking different courses, and hoped we’d be able to get accommodation together. I hoped many things for my future but one of the main things that I yearned for was to be able to get into Kate’s knickers once we were away from home and living together. We’d been doing everything except that last real bit of sex and the frustration was driving me mad but, she said, she wasn’t going to lose her virginity just because I wanted her to, she could be quite controlling in that way. Mind you, in my current ‘situation’ I wasn’t keen on sleeping with her just in case I made a mess – I’m sure that would be the kiss of death to any relationship. Now I couldn’t afford to go, even camping would have been too expensive and, my dad would have seen it once again that I was running away from my responsibilities. It’s not that the family is poor. Dad has a well-paid job and up until the baby, mum was pretty well paid in her exec capacity at the hospital. However, Dad’s ethos has always been ‘you get nothing for nothing’ so, although I sought my escape in the prospect of university, I really was relying on my family to support me up until I went away. It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried to get work, well, I had tried but there were few opportunities around and I guess I was just too picky, thinking I was better than what was on offer. Mum had arranged for a part-time job at the hospital but I really didn’t want to be carting bodies around the wards with all those ill people – uuurggh! Mum was OK with my decision, saying it wasn’t a job for everybody but dad was furious and called me a little kid, scared of work and getting my hands dirty. The fact that I was now wetting the bed on a regular basis added nothing to his low opinion of me… and I suppose I could see his point. **** Mum had got her supplies from the hospital and I was greeted with them when I went to bed that night. Grown-up disposables and plastic pants were laid out on my bed and mum insisted that I wear them as she was damned if she was going to be mopping up after me anymore. I’m fairly easy going and don’t like conflict, that’s why I rarely argue with mum or dad, but I could see her argument on this and, I have to say, as reluctant to take this step as I was I thought it was the easiest of solutions to my immediate problem. Mum said it was only until the problem disappeared, hopefully, as quickly as it had arrived. That night it felt strange wrapping myself in the thick disposable (mum had offered to help but I told her I could manage) and it took a few attempts at getting the tapes tight enough for the damn thing to stay up. Eventually it appeared to be in place and I looked in the mirror and burst into fits of laughter – I looked a right loon. I even did a little dance I thought I looked so stupid… the whole thing was hilarious. I slipped the plastic pants, a sort of thick creamy colour, over it all and to hide the bulge pulled on my PJ pants. The bulkiness was something I thought I’d never get used to. When I was standing up and dancing around, it had all seemed so funny but now, as I tried to get to sleep, it felt hot and uncomfortable. The slickness of the plastic pants meant that my hand kept stroking the front of my bulge but I could hardly feel my cock through the thickness, this I found quite disconcerting. The plastic had a texture of its own which, I surprisingly found stimulating and continued to play around with the silky mound until I fell asleep. The dream was slightly different this time. Instead of being at Wembley I was on a camping holiday with Kate and it was she who was consoling as I wet myself. She pulled down my drenched pants and checked my soaked nappy and proceeded to start to change me in full view of the passing public (who on this occasion were a group of young hikers… all of whom were laughing at me). Kate was not putting up with my protests and insisted that I let her see to my needs or we were through, she wasn’t going to put up with a baby who didn’t want to be changed and that was that. I had no alternative but let her get on with it but the growing audience of a troop of scouts and an old folks walking group only added to my embarrassment. I started to cry. **tbc**

Before reading this story, it is highly recommended that you read the first two stories in this series: Daddy's Cabin: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/51692-daddys-cabin/ Daddy's Cabin 2 - Connor's Story: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/57670-daddys-cabin-connors-story/ --- This is the first part of the third and (as things are) last instalment of the Daddy's Cabin trilogy. This has been available on my Patreon for the last week and if you want early updates to every story I post then it costs a $5 pledge. If you want the above and access to exclusive stories it costs a $10 pledge. There are more tiers and rewards available on my Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 A big thank you to everyone who reads my stories, a huge thank you to everyone who comments and a super-duper thank you to all of the people who support me on Patreon: DannyDazzler, Daniel O, Lena S, Tsidt, Scy Tali, Britnee L, Sith, Trenton M, Geoffrey J, Robert J, Chris, Cameron, Cole T, Dorian G, LB Iceland, Babybb, J Land, Tim F, Cvsflip105, P74_1986, Chris B, Ron N, Jerry J, Frank S, Charlie S, P, Orion F, John, Kevin H, Tom H, Sterling W, Ryan, Jens B, Zachary U, Thomas R S, Matthew S, Pierry L, Matthew, John D, James B, A Random Patreon, Eric C, Ben R, C Dom, Lin J, Ben F, Henry C, Bob, Michelle G, Kent J, Scott S --- Daddy’s Cabin 3 By Elfy “Quiet down. Let the drugs work, fighting it will only make it worse…” Connor sighed as he sped along the dark highway towards the cabin. The sounds of struggling from the backseat only intensified as the college age woman frantically pulled against the ropes restraining her without much success. Connor was sure she would be screaming if it wasn’t for the gag in her mouth. Connor yawned as he looked out of the window. He hated this job, it had caused him to become cold and detached from people and even his friends had asked him what was wrong. Connor could never tell the truth though, how could he, he had to play the grieving friend who had lost Tyler and could never admit his own role in that disappearance. Turning off of the main road, Connor started navigating between the trees towards the accursed house of Daddy. He had the route memorised at this point. When Connor started working for Daddy it had been suggested that he wouldn’t be called very often, that Connor would only be needed every few months to bring a new hapless victim to Daddy but it quickly turned into an event he was having to take part in a couple of times a month. He had no idea how Daddy was conditioning and moving these people on so quickly. In the last three months, since Connor had left Tyler at the cabin, Connor had brought ten different people to Daddy. By the time Connor pulled up in front of the old shack the woman in the backseat of his car was out cold. Connor stepped out of his driver’s seat and knocked on the cabin door, it swung open after a few seconds and the huge, hulking figure of Daddy appeared in the doorway. Without a word, Daddy and Connor walked back to the car and manhandled the woman out of the backseat. She wasn’t too heavy but an unconscious body was never easy to carry. As Connor carried the body into the house his mind went back to the situation that led him here. He remembered Tyler, his best friend, making a mistake. Connor remembered tricking Tyler into coming to this discreet cabin and then what happened next. Tyler would have been sold into babyhood slavery by now. It had been a few months since Connor had last seen Tyler but he found that his old best friend was increasingly on his mind. “I’ve got another target for you.” Daddy grunted as they dropped the unconscious woman’s body into the crib. “Already!?” Connor exclaimed, “What about her?” “I’ll have a couple of weeks with her and then move her on.” Daddy replied with a shrug, “Business isn’t going well. Prices are through the floor and demand is dwindling. The people I work for need more and more bodies just to keep even.” “But surely you need longer than a couple of weeks to… Do your stuff…” Connor was very careful about how he referred to Daddy’s role of regressing the captives. “I do what I can.” Daddy grunted simply. For the first time, Connor looked up into Daddy’s face and saw an old man. Daddy looked tired, he looked like the passion he once had for his work had ebbed away. “Who’s the target?” Connor sighed. He had been told he would be used sparingly and yet seemed to be called upon very often. This isn’t what he had agreed to, not that he had much in terms of negotiating power. Daddy handed a slip of paper to Connor and started restraining the woman in the crib. He had already stripped her down and had a diaper ready for her. “Trevor Smith!?” Connor exclaimed as he looked at the details of his target. “You know him?” Daddy asked haphazardly. “Sure…” Connor replied as he continued reading, “He was the high school quarterback. He was destined for huge things, had all the top colleges scouting him. Hell, he had NFL teams following him closely already.” “They did say they wanted more high profile targets.” Daddy said, “What happened to him if he was so promising? Looks like he’s homeless in that photo.” “Double leg fracture.” Connor said with a hint of sadness, “A nothing play at the end of a blow out game. He’d just broken the record for most yards thrown in a single game at the high school when he got sacked and fell awkwardly. Snapped his leg in two places…” “Ouch.” Daddy grunted. “He could still have come back and had a career.” Connor continued, “But he became addicted to the painkillers he was given. He stopped rehabbing his leg, stopped showing up at school… Last I heard he was basically drifting through houses he could squat in. He used to be a friend but we lost contact.” “Well evidently someone still sees value in that quarterback.” Daddy replied, “They are offering a decent amount for him. I need him by the end of the week.” Connor sighed deeply but nodded. He knew this was an order and not a request so he didn’t argue, he simply took the paper with the details and walked back out to his car. --- “Aren’t you… Trevor Smith?” Connor was walking down the street when he saw his target. It had taken Connor a week just to find the former quarterback, he knew that he was cutting it very fine in regards to time. Trevor looked in a rough state. His muscled physique had wasted away and now he was stood hunched over in an alleyway. He looked a little lost and his wildly unkempt hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. “Who the fuck are you?” Grunted the homeless man. “Connor… Remember from high school? We used to hang out sometimes.” Connor replied as he took a step into the alley. “Connor? Right, how are you doing? You got any spare change?” Trevor’s eyes squinted as he looked at Connor. Connor wasn’t sure whether the former star football player remembered who he was at all. It made no difference to Connor, his job remained the same either way. “I haven’t got any change…” Connor started. “Then what use are you!?” Trevor stumbled backwards slightly. He seemed more angry than happy to see Connor. He clearly saw anyone who didn’t have something for him as a nuisance. “I do have some stuff in the car though…” Connor continued, “Some drink and stuff, was thinking we could go on a drive and catch up.” “You have booze?” Trevor repeated as his anger melted almost immediately. “Sure, got some other stuff too if you are interested.” Connor replied with a small smirk. “Then what are we waiting for!” Trevor flashed a wide smile. His yellowing teeth contrasted with his former million dollar smile, “Connor, right? You were always my favourite friend.” Connor knew that was a lie. They only tangentially knew each other, only at social events did their two circles of friends interact. But he smiled and indicated for Trevor to follow him, his car was parked very nearby and they were soon piling in. Trevor took the backseat as the front passenger seat was covered in various items. “Where’s the stuff?” Trevor asked immediately as soon as the door closed. “Hold on.” Connor said as he reached over to his glovebox. Connor pulled out a non-descript prescription bottle filled with little white pills. He placed them on the passenger seat and then pulled out a second bottle of very similar pills. “Good shit.” Trevor smiled as he watched Connor, “This is all temporary though, you know?” “Is it?” Connor asked distractedly. He wasn’t really listening all that much, he was busy trying to find the cheap plastic cups he had brought with him. “Yeah man…” Trevor said wistfully, “I’m going to clean up and go finish college.” “Sure.” Connor was sceptical. It sounded like a typical thing for a drug addict to say, they rarely followed through though. When Connor had found the cups, he put them on the seat and turned the engine of the car on. He quickly pulled out and started driving towards the edge of the city. “Aren’t we going to take the pills?” Trevor asked as they pulled away. “Sure we are.” Connor replied, “I know a good quiet spot where we can go though. No chance of cops.” “Sweet.” Trevor replied as he relaxed and sat back in his seat. For five minutes they drove in relative silence. The city gradually thinned out as they were heading towards the city limits. “You were best friends with Tyler, weren’t you?” Trevor eventually said to break the silence. Connor felt a feeling like an icy dagger stab his heart. He hadn’t expected this to be brought up and he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. “I… Yes, we were best friends.” Connor replied shortly. “Did they ever find out what happened to him?” Trevor asked, “I remember there were news articles and stuff.” “He just disappeared.” Connor replied, “Vanished off the map.” Connor’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. The guilt and regret of handing Tyler to Daddy burned inside him, he wished more than anything he could take it back. “Shame.” Trevor replied, “He was a good kid.” “How about we sort this stuff out.” Connor said to change the subject. He pointed down at the pills as he continued driving down the quiet country back road that headed towards the cabin. As Connor continued to drive he set the two plastic cups in the two cup holders and roughly filled them with water. The road was practically deserted so he didn’t have to worry too much about doing this on the move. Connor opened the bottle of powerful sedatives. He dropped a couple of the pills into one of the drinking vessels. Trevor made a noise of approval from behind Connor. Connor then opened the second vial and poured a couple of the pills into the other cup. These were harmless sugar pills, a pill that wouldn’t impair Connor at all. “Yeah!” Trevor called out excitedly. He reached forward and picked up the two cups. “Woah man. What are you doing!?” Connor asked suddenly. The plan was for Trevor to drink the spiked cup, now Connor had no idea which one that was. “Getting ready for a party!” Trevor laughed. “Which one of those cups was the one nearest me?” Connor asked urgently as he tried to split his attention between his companion and the road in front of him. “Erm…” Trevor looked down at the two identical cups. His short-term memory was rather hazy and he couldn’t honestly say for sure which drink was which. “Jesus, Trevor!” Connor yelled. “Relax, dude.” Trevor replied, “It was this one… I think.” “You think!?” Connor continued. They were getting near to the edge of the forest now, he needed Trevor drugged and sedate as soon as possible. “It doesn’t matter, man.” Trevor said, “A pill’s a pill!” Connor couldn’t waste any more time or give Trevor any idea that something was going on. He reached back and took the cup that Trevor was handing him and he looked into it. There was no way to tell whether these were the sedatives or not, the pills looked the same. “Bottom’s up.” Trevor said. He threw his head back and swallowed the pills and the water in one go. Connor murmured something in return, he put the cup to his lips and swallowed the drink. There were no immediate effects and Connor breathed a sigh of relief, it seemed like he had got lucky. It was almost as soon as Connor hit the treeline that he suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. His eyes were growing heavy and his limbs seemed to be responding slower. “I’m not feeling a thing…” Trevor said with disappointment, “How about you?” “Ugh…” Connor tried to respond but he was having trouble getting his brain and body to co-operate. “Are you feeling OK?” Trevor asked. Connor was swaying slightly in his seat. The world around him seemed to be spinning around him, his clouded mind knew just one thing, he had to get to the cabin. “Shit man, you don’t look so good.” Trevor said as he leaned around the seat, “Where are we?” “C… Cabin…” Connor mumbled. The car came to a rolling stop and with difficulty, Connor pointed out of the side window. The cabin was just visible. “You need some help, bro.” Trevor said as he stepped out of the car, “I think you are having a bad reaction.” Trevor opened the driver’s door and lifted Connor out, he was limp and his eyes looked permanently out of focus. Trevor lifted Connor up and started struggling towards the cabin. When they got to the front door, Trevor found it unlocked and he walked right in. He found the living room and laid Connor down on the couch with a look of concern. “Shit, man… I think we need an ambu-” Trevor suddenly stopped mid-sentence and fell forward. Connor’s vision was fading badly but he could just make out the hulking frame of Daddy with a small club in his hand. Connor finally gave in to the drugs coursing through his system and he blacked out. --- Connor felt groggy but he woke up as Daddy carried him into the nursery and sat him in the rocking chair. He felt utterly powerless as his muscles were paralysed by the drugs in his system. He was just dead weight that an angry looking Daddy propped up in the seat. Connor wanted to say something to Daddy but was utterly unable to speak. Daddy was muttering darkly as he walked out of the nursery and then came back a few minutes later with the semi-conscious body of Trevor. “You really messed this one up…” Daddy muttered as he laid Trevor down on the changing table. Daddy rapidly stripped Trevor down leaving him naked on the table. Trevor’s head rolled from side to side as he slowly woke up from the hit he had received a little earlier. Without wasting any time, Daddy got a cloth diaper from the shelf above the table and unfolded it. He easily lifted Trevor’s legs and slid the cloth diaper underneath him, Daddy pinned the diaper closed quickly and easily. Connor watched through eyes that struggled to stay focused as a slightly more conscious Trevor was then carried over to the crib and some plastic pants were slipped over the padding. As Trevor started moving a little more, Daddy began to restrain him. Trevor’s wrists and ankles were tied to bars and a couple of straps across the chest rendered Trevor almost completely immobile. “What… What’s going on?” Trevor pulled against his bonds, “What the hell!? Help!” Daddy quickly retrieved the pacifier gag from the shelf and shoved it into Trevor’s mouth. He fastened it tightly closed to muffle the screams of the new captive. When Daddy was certain that Trevor was safely tied down he turned towards Connor. Daddy was furious. “How the hell did this happen?” Daddy asked Connor who was starting to regain some of his senses. “I drank… Spiked drink…” Connor managed to say as he tried to keep his eyes open. “God damn it.” Daddy hissed as he shook his head, “Does anyone know what happened? Are we in danger?” Connor loosely shook his head as he felt the tiredness threatening to overtake him again. He tried to shake some life back into himself but the drugs were just too powerful, he had used an extra strong dose because he assumed Trevor would have a tolerance built up to them. Daddy looked around for a second as if deciding what to do. He seemed to suddenly come to a decision as Connor watched him leave the room. He returned a minute later with the baby swing that he attached to a hook on the ceiling of the nursery. Connor could only watch all of this with confusion as his drugged state wouldn’t let him ask what was going on or try to stop what seemed like a bad situation. “Do you have any idea what might have happened?” Daddy asked hypothetically as he rounded on Connor. His eyes were wide and shining, he reminded Connor of a wolf. “Relax…” Connor slurred. It was all he could manage but he could instantly see that his words were not having their intended effect. Daddy advanced on Connor and lifted the young man up with ease. He carried him over to the changing table and laid him down, his strong arms held Connor’s weak body in place and began removing his clothes. “What… What…” Connor was having trouble processing what was happening. He tried to pull his limbs away from the table but he was still too weak. “This was too close.” Daddy stated angrily, “You could have blown the entire operation. We are already struggling, the last thing we need is you causing us even more problems.” “Stop!” Connor’s voice was weak and it was about all the resistance he could put up. Daddy took another cloth diaper from the shelf above the changing table and unfolded it. He slipped it underneath Connor who could do little to resist. Connor knew he had made a mistake and now he was wondering how much it was going to cost him. He fearfully thought back to when Tyler would’ve been in this same position and wondered if he had been as scared as Connor was right now. He suddenly felt a huge amount of empathy for his missing friend. The diaper was pulled up and pinned closed, a pair of plastic pants followed before Connor was put into the baby bouncer in the middle of the room. Daddy adjusted the height so that Connor could just touch the ground with the soles of his feet. “Time to learn a lesson.” Daddy growled. Connor turned in his swing to see Daddy closing the bedroom door and leaving him in the nursery with Trevor who had spent this whole time trying to scream through the pacifier gag. Connor felt the drugs overpowering him again and he slumped forwards in the swing, the room went black again as the sounds of Trevor’s struggling filled the otherwise silent room.

I think one of my pics is too risque for DD... click here to read the full story with both pics. A friend of mine said she was in the mood for something dark and embarrassing... I'm dedicating this one to her and all the other naughty girls out there. If you’re a naughty girl and you’re reading this, then it’s already too late. That fascination you’re feeling, the urge to read onward-- that’s not an accident. You’re already falling under my spell... and by the time you’ve finished reading, it won’t matter what you are now... because by the time you get to the end of this, you’re going to be nothing but an overgrown baby. Don’t believe me? Then keep reading (as if you had a choice.) Let your eyes wander on down the page, and maybe even allow yourself a smile or chuckle at how silly it all is. That’s fine... your disbelief is all part of the plan... by the time you realize what’s going on, it’ll be too late. You can probably feel it now. It’s very subtle at first... little more than a tickle in the back of your head... but ignore it for now (as I know you will) and just keep reading. Let your eyes wonder over the words, letting them fill up your mind until there is nothing else. There... you can feel that something’s wrong now, can’t you? All those precious big girl thoughts are going away... drown out by the growing din inside of you-- a voice that tells you to abandon the hollow trappings of your adult life and settle back into the soft, babyish comfort of a nice... soft... diaper. Now it’s in full effect, and you wish you could take your eyes away... that you had just listened to my warnings... but now it’s too late. It’s OK, don’t fight it... just let the words wash over you, filling you up with warm, mushy feeling, pushing out all the bad thoughts, pushing all that boring schooling and useless job experience aside. Just relax and let it fill you with warmth and innocence, and don’t worry about a little dampness down below... you’re just wetting your pants. Now now... don’t run away (like you could if you even tried.) Just give your butt a little squirm in the seat any you’ll discover a little extra padding-- that’s right: you’re wearing diapers! Good thing, too... they’ll catch all the pee pee you were too silly to hold in and keep you from making a big mess... after all, you don’t want to get spanked by daddy or mommy... do you? And as you sit there, on you’re plushly padded patootie, you’re going to notice small changes... your cup of coffee becomes a bottle, your t-shirt becomes a onsie, and... was your hair up in pig-tails like that before you sat down and started reading? There’s no denying it, honey-- you’re turning into a baby! Now, you’re probably asking yourself “could I possibly be more infantilized than I am right now?” and I would like to respond to that question with a little riddle: what’s white and brown and stinky all over? Give up? BBBLLLAAARRRTT! The answer is you, honey... or more specifically, your diaper! PU! Don’t try to deny it young woman... your pampers are all saggy and brown and the back, even if the stink wasn’t a dead giveaway! You look so cute with that shock look on your face as that big load overwhelms you, forcing it’s way out of your backside and squishing into the back of your pampers without your permission. A saggy, stinky diaper butt... that was your fate the moment you logged in to this website! And let’s face it-- you wouldn’t be here unless you wanted it... would you sweetie? Now, I know you’d love to read more, but you’re long overdue for a nap, and mommy or daddy should be along soon to put you down for the afternoon. Night night, sweetie... and stop by again real soon... assuming you’re still allowed to use the computer, that is! Until then, I know you’ll be dreaming of diaper changes...

Chapter 1 Lauren Cohan laid in her bed, naked and covered up, she has to shoot season 5 now so she better get ready, she pulled her covers off and walk to her closet when suddenly the room begin to shake, there was a bright flash as Lauren cover her eyes. When she open them she laying on a metal table, in a strange metal room, she sat up as she saw green Martians walking in. She covered her mouth stopping her from screaming. Oh god what do they want with me? She look around hoping for a way out but there was none. The Martians begging coming to her and laid her down. 'There there, you should be glad' it said 'Glad for what?' Asked Lauren 'You have been chosen to partake in a experiment' the other Martians starting to poke her naked body, one poke her breast making Lauren slap it's hand. 'We are studying the behaviors of a human infant and we chose you as a perfect specimen' 'But I'm 31 years old' said Lauren 'I'm too old to be a baby, so if you could take me back to my home.....' 'Yes, you are an human adult but to us Martians you're still infant level' 'No! Listen, do babies have fully grown boobs like these?' She touch her breast 'so I'm not a baby, just a normal grown women' but the Martian just shushed her as it turned her over, it then put a cold thermometer in her ass making her squeal, once it took it out and turn her on her back another one lift her legs up and slid something under her, Lauren try to look but she's being pinned down, the Martian put powder on her and tape the thing up, when Lauren finally looked she gasped. It was a adult diaper She want to rip it off and run but the Martian picked her up. 'Now you must rest for the study will begin tomorrow' it placed her in a pod nod close it up. All Lauren could hear was a lullaby singing her to sleep, Lauren started yawning and fell asleep, unknowly sucking her thumb. When she awoke she was on the floor, she rub her eyes, she look around and found herself in a giant nursery, it has adult size baby toys, change table, cribs even baby accessories. Lauren stood up and walk to a cupboard filled with adult diapers, on the cover of the package was Katy Perry doing baby stuff while diapered and topless. Lauren then saw a tv, she turn it on but all that was on were baby shows. 'This is crazy, I must be dreaming' she pinched herself but it just hurt, then she sees a commercial came on. It showed Kristen Stewart naked on a table laying down and waiting for something. Then a martian came in carrying a adult diaper. Kristen smiled as it fasten the diaper around her waist. 'How does feel baby?' Said the Martian 'Its comfy!' Said a smiling Kristen Stewart then it showed the huggies logo with Kristen on the package. It then went back to a baby show, leaving Lauren more scars then ever. 'These sick Martians are serious' she ran to the door 'I got to get out' she try to open the door but it was child locked. She look around for a window but the windows are too high. She bend down to the wall looking for a hole or something until the door open. A Martian saw Lauren with her diapered butt sticking out as she bend. 'Theres my baby' Lauren got up and saw the Martian, she should run but something was pulling her to the Martian, she waddle to it until the Martian pick her up. Lauren felt happy all of a sudden. 'How is the little baby' it tickle Lauren's bare belly making her laugh. "This isn't right I have to leave! Why am I acting like this?" The Martian sat her on the floor and cover it eyes, 'pika boo!' Lauren laughed making the Martian doing it again and again until Lauren was on her back laughing. The Martian smiled, 'ok I'll be right back' it then left the room leaving Lauren to relies what just happen. They hypnotise her Somehow they manage to make her act like a baby, with no control over her actions, Lauren sat up, she must find put how they are doing it so she could escape before something bad happens. She picture herself laughing in a messy diaper while sucking her thumb. She shivered at the thought. When the Martian returned Lauren could smell baby powder. 'Ok mummy brought you a dress' Lauren look up with a grin. The Martian was holding a pretty pink dress with frills. Lauren clapped as the Martian help put the dress on her. Lauren stood up and look in the mirror, the dress looked cute, only covering half her diaper. The Martian then place a bonnet on her head. Inside Lauren's mind she was screaming, she tries to figure out how they are hypnotising her but all she could right now was to go through with it. The Martian then place her in a stroller, it buckle her in and they went outside for a walk. Lauren suck on her pasi as she went around the block, from other houses she sees other women in her position. She saw Jenna Coleman being bottle fed by her Martian, Cobie Smaulders playing in the sprinklers butt naked, Victoria Justice in a onesie riding her trycicle, all these women must be hypnotised as well. Once Lauren was back in the nursery, strip of her dress, the Martian then went out, bringing Lauren to her senses. 'Damnit! I still couldn't figure out how they did it' she slam her fist on the ground. Then tears form in her eyes, 'this.... This isn't fair! Me big girl! Me no baby! WAAAAAAAAA' she cried like a baby, tears and snot running down her face, her Martian watches from out side the window. 'Research log, the infant is now crying, possibly want a diaper change? No I think she just want a baby sister' The Martian smiled as she made a call to her superiors.

Never More Content - Part 1 Rob had been with Doctor Mark Thompson now for around 19 months. It was a relationship that, at the beginning, neither could have foreseen the outcome. However, Rob has never been happier; his days are now filled with fun, adventure and that rarest of gifts… love. For these last few months he had learned that he didn’t have to fight for everything, he didn’t have to worry about anything and, in fact, he didn’t have to think at all, Daddy would see to his every need. Rob was only 14 when he tried to mug the rich-looking man who was getting out of his BMW. His stomach was empty and he was desperate because for the last few weeks he had been living rough on the streets. He’d had to learn how to survive quickly since he ‘left’ home and he wasn’t doing too well. Opportunities to find food, shelter and safety weren’t as easy to come by as he had hoped they would be. In fact, he hadn’t had a decent meal or a place to stay since he’d slammed the door and swore at that drunken bitch… his mother. Recently, his home life had deteriorated badly, he’d been expelled from school because of his mounting violent streak, he fought against any form of authority, he hated the world and everyone in it and he needed to get OUT. However, living rough was even worse. When he wasn’t being offered drugs, he was the victim of those desperate drug addicts who saw him as an easy target. He carried the cuts and bruises to prove it as he was no match against the rougher element he met. His stomach ached with hunger and he urgently needed to get some money and this smart, swanky, well-to-do guy appeared to have loads. In the past he'd begged for money but people either took no notice, as if he didn’t exist or worse, screamed abuse at him for daring to ask for help. The only way he’d found effective was to threaten, then he was listened to and the sharp 8” blade he now carried certainly got most people’s attention. He waved it at the BMW owner and demanded money but his threat was swiftly countered by a speedy kick from the man that sent the knife spinning through the air and a follow up kick to the would-be mugger’s head that knocked him to the ground. It all happened so fast that Rob didn’t know what hit him until he regained consciousness… then things really began to get weird. Forty year-old Mark Thompson is a man who knows what he wants. He left school and university with an armful of top class awards, flourished quickly in his specialised field and found the demanding intensity of his martial arts programme the perfect way to relax, keep fit and stay alert. In the dark he hadn’t realised the age of his assailant, all he saw was a body rushing towards him and a fleeting glimpse of a steely pointed object being jabbed in his direction. His training took over and in a nanosecond the would-be assassin was dropped to the ground unconscious. As he checked the prone body he realised that the youth lying at his feet was in need of some treatment. He reached down and easily picked up the grubby, thin urchin and carried him to his apartment just a few yards away. The boy was filthy. His clothes were torn and tattered whilst the bruises and cuts on his hands and face made Mark wonder what the poor little guy had been through recently (apart from a kick to the head that is). He got the lad into his home and started to inspect the comatose body now he had light to see just what his injuries were. He removed the lad’s thin jacket and t-shirt and saw that there was a very bad, festering cut on his arm that appeared to have gone untreated for some time. He removed the boy’s trainers and jeans and saw that he was just a mass of bruises and, strangely perhaps, he felt sorry for his would-be mugger. The boy was still out for the count so Mark called a friend of his who was a doctor and asked him to come around and check the boy out. He arrived minutes later from an apartment in the same block just as Mark had finished trying to wipe as much grime away as possible and the lad was beginning to regain consciousness. Although not fully compos mentis Rob realised that something was going on and he was being touched… so he lashed out. Although there was hardly any force to the blow he managed to cuff the doctor at the side of his head and was about to throw another punch when Mark grabbed his arms and pinned him down. Despite being naked and having little strength he tried to fight back and break away from his captives. Alas, he was no match for them and a quick injection from the doctor calmed him down and he drifted off into unconsciousness again. Once he’d gotten over the brief commotion Paul, the doctor, carried out his examination and treated the bruises and cuts on the pale thin body as best he could. His diagnosis was more malnutrition than any great injury but recommended that the large cut on the boy’s arm was kept under scrutiny for any infection. He gave the boy various injections that would help him recover and suggested that Paul feed the lad up before letting him go… or call the police… or do whatever he was going to do with his young attacker. “He’ll be out for about 12 hours,” the doctor informed Mark. “So, is there anything else… or can I get back to Little Liam? I left him sitting in front of the TV watching the Cartoon Channel.” He saw Mark’s raised eyebrows, “Yes again,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders, “it’s his favourite.” Before he left Mark asked Paul to check to see if the lad had been sexually abused. Paul checked the boy’s anus and said that it was inflamed and torn and he reckoned that the lad must have been the subject of a vicious attack, and had probably been raped… and perhaps more than once was his diagnosis. Mark sighed “Poor little fellow.” Mark looked down at the lad once more and began to wonder what had driven this sorry looking soul to this point. He was even worried that if he threw him out and back onto the streets, the boy would be an easy victim of some unscrupulous druggies or bullies. He wondered what he could do to help; after all, he was a trained (and rather expensive) behavioural psychologist, perhaps he could help sort the lad out. As he speculated he suddenly became aware of a strong aroma and gathered that the boy had just urinated onto his leather sofa. He quickly grabbed the nearest thing to hand to mop it up, which led to the lad’s thin t-shirt, pants and jeans soon soaked with stinking piss. Rob was unaware of what had happened as Mark took these smelly objects and tossed them into the washing machine. Then he realised he couldn’t leave the lad naked so went off to find something to cover him with. Mindful that he needed to protect his sofa from any further accidents he found a large towel and some safety pins. Returning to the sleeping boy he fitted it like a diaper around the lad’s waist. Whilst pulling the towel up between the lad’s legs and fastening it tightly a sudden shiver ran down Mark’s spine. He caught his breath at this moment of recognition. His mind catapulted him back to the last time he’d done this - it was during his final exams in his last year of senior school. A huge trauma had recently affected Mark and he remembered waking up some mornings to find he’d unconsciously wet the bed. The trauma had been the dramatic death of his father in an explosion at the chemical plant where he worked, which had killed 17 others and had devastating consequences to all concerned. Finding he’d wet the bed at his age was another upset he found difficult to deal with and although he and his mother were very close, he didn’t want to burden her at this time with what he saw as a ‘stupid childish’ problem. Each night he’d diaper himself with a towel just in case he wet again and every morning he’d wake to find it soaked but on the plus side… at least the bed and bedding were reasonably dry. The pressure of exams and the death of his loving father, who had encouraged him to do well and to work hard, had ultimately had a distressing effect. He wanted his dad to be proud of him so worked exceptionally hard to pass his exams. The hours he put in to revision, the empty loss he felt inside, the sadness he could only imagine his mother was going through, all just built and built until it found some kind of release. It was just over a week that he’d been diapering himself when his mom found out. It was early one Monday morning when she entered his bedroom to wake him and found him sat on the edge of his bed in the soaked makeshift diaper. His youthful looks were etched with anguish as he shrugged not even trying to hide his obvious shame. She hugged her bed-wetting son and told him that he shouldn’t have to carry that worry on his own as she was there for him… for anything… and everything. Between them they would meet head on and solve any problem that came up. They had always been close and, like when his dad was alive, there were few secrets in this loving family. He was relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to her anymore and, as she sat beside him, both cried in their mutual sorrow. Once the tears were almost dried up she asked if he needed any help with his diapers. Apart from the soggy one, which at that moment was hanging heavily between his legs, he wasn’t sure what she meant. He gave a side-long look at his sympathetic mother and asked if she was offering to change him. She giggled, relieving what could have been a tense situation, and put her hand to her mouth as if she’d said something really stupid. They both laughed. “If I thought you needed it, of course I would, but you seem to be coping OK.” She looked into his eyes reassuringly. “But,” and she looked down at the sagging diaper, “don’t forget the other things… you don’t want to be getting a diaper rash at your age.” She paused to check he was still OK with what she was saying, “What I meant was, do you need me to get you anything?” He realised she was correct… it had all been a bit haphazard. He hadn’t been taking care of that side of his diaper hygiene, just having a shower then dressing for college… and his crotch and bum were raw and beginning to itch. His mom bought him some more appropriate disposables, plastic pants and assorted lotions and powders, it was like when he was a kid again and she loved the diversion from her own problems. One evening when Mark was getting ready for bed and applying his night time protection his mom came in and asked him if he recalled that he went through a similar period of bed-wetting when he was four. He remembered but, perhaps surprisingly, not in a negative way… it had all been so normal. She told him that he’d been potty-trained for two years when, just before he started school, he started to wet again. “Stress,” she said as if it was the answer, “you were very scared of leaving me and going to school.” His mom went on to tell him about the fun she and his father had with diapering their slightly older, but still little scamp as he played. “Wearing a diaper never stopped you doing anything. You never seemed to worry about it.” Indeed, from the moment it had been suggested that he needed to go back into diapers to save the bedding and loads of washing, he seemed to accept it. His dad was determined that he shouldn’t get distressed by being back in a diaper so had gone out of his way to be positive when his son was wearing them. This was partly due to the fact that he had also wet the bed as a child and his father, Mark’s grandfather, had given his own son such a horrible time about it; ridiculing and chastising him all the time. Mark’s dad was determined that if that type of misfortune should happen to his own son he would never be made to feel guilty about it. In fact, his dad, and mom to a certain degree, had loved having their 4 year-old baby back. They loved him scampering around the house in just a diaper and it never bothered young Mark because he was always being told it was normal as it was no more than just another style of underwear. The truth was that both his parents had loved his sweet little padded butt getting into all the things a 4 year-old got into. His dad had made it into a game for Mark and bought special plastic covers for his son’s diapers. Soon the little imp was running around in brightly coloured pants, that although made the padding thicker, didn’t seem to hinder his ability, or confidence, in getting around. At school there was no difficulty as he wasn’t the only one still in diapers and while at home, he seemed to prefer to wear little else. Even though it started as just a night time precaution, Mark was often up and dressed first thing in a morning before his parents and he’d have fastened himself into a diaper for the day… no matter what he was doing or where he was going. Both his mom and dad thought this was the cutest thing and Mark himself seemed to love each new design that was slipped over his diaper… often choosing the colour and pattern that his dad offered him each day. He wore all that extra padding from 4 years until he was almost eight, when, after a stay-over with his friend Danny, he'd asked his mom to buy him some big boy pants for when he started school again. Although his parents were sad that their little boy had grown up, they didn’t want to keep him dressed that way if he it made him unhappy. As his mum told him this story, parts of that time came flooding back to him and he remembered it as a period when he had never been happier. There was a great deal of loving attention from both his mom and dad and he recalled the constant picking up and hugging by them both. “We just loved patting your thick diapered butt.” His mom had said with a reminiscing smile, “and you… well you’d never seemed more content”. Suddenly those words struck him “never more content” and he knew exactly what he could do with his young, would-be assailant. His mind was suddenly dazzled with the possibility of this new enterprise. As the boy slept on oblivious of the thoughts that were now so appealing to Mark, the psychologist regretted chucking the lad’s clothing into the wash. As the final spin-cycle came to a stop he realised that any clues to his identity would probably have been washed away. The damp bundle of clothes revealed nothing at all. In fact, only the boy’s jeans appeared to have held together, the rest had simply dissolved to mere bits and pieces not even fit for rags. Finding out any information about the boy was now down to what he was prepared to reveal. He wasn’t sure if this would be a problem but looking down on the lad, wrapped in such a thick diaper, he thought it all might be worth the effort. He had this grand plan developing in his head as he slipped upstairs to his doctor friend to tell him about his intentions and to borrow some items that he thought would come in useful. ***tbc***

Because of the current tech problems I have re-laid the entire story in this chapter. You can still read the comments at the end but they probably won't make much sense. Samantha’s lesson Samantha was being her usual annoying self. Her parents didn’t know why their adorable little baby girl was growing up to be an obnoxious little fiend. She was seven years old but had the attitude of a grumpy teenager who always thought she was right. Her mommy and daddy were at their wits end as to what to do with her and yearned for the days when she was a happy little bundle of smiles, giggles and the only demands she made was for her paci. Now she demanded attention 24/7 and had the house in uproar if she didn’t get it. Her brother, four year-old Nathan, was more often than not left crying because of some act of nastiness that his darling older sister had visited on him. Nathan was a sweet, undemonstrative child, who, though worryingly still in diapers, was otherwise a normal little boy. Having said that, the normal ‘terrible twos’ that his parents remembered so well from when Sam was at that age, appeared to pass him by. Maybe this was down to the fact that they had his sister to contend with and she seemed to be forever in that part of her ‘terrible’ childhood development. Whenever Nathan got any sort of attention Samantha would start acting up, get into trouble, cause an argument or generally be disagreeable. Meanwhile, her little brother would sit there playing with his toys and perhaps wondering why he was being ignored (if a child of his age ever thought that way). The school was always sending messages and asking Sam’s parents in for meetings to ‘discuss’ her behaviour but everything that was tried to remedy the situation failed miserably. That was until her mother accidently came across something that appeared to work. * Samantha had been screaming at her brother. Ridiculing the poor boy because he was still wetting himself, not just at night but also during the day, and, because she had been potty trained since the age of two, told him how much of a baby he still was. After one particular nasty tirade and unforgivable incident where she rubbed his wet diaper in his face, which needless to say had upset Nathan tremendously, her mother decided on her own punishment. She spanked her daughter (much to Samantha’s surprise and something her mommy had never done before), removed her little panties and replaced them with the wet diaper with which she had just been tormenting her sobbing little brother. Sam was the one now crying, and not just because of the spanking, she hated the feel of the wet diaper that now hung between her legs. Her mother had made it pretty clear that if she even attempted to remove it that would produce an even more severe spanking. Samantha was smarting from the first smacking she’d ever received and was temporarily stunned into submission so wandered miserably around the house with her huge drooping diaper easily visible below her little dress. Her mother noticed that somehow this action had calmed her daughter down and, for a few hours at least, she saw Sam behaving herself and, although perhaps reluctantly, start playing with Nathan who was now sitting happily in his dry protection. * As the children played their mother couldn’t help but notice how cute her disruptive daughter looked now she was back in diapers. The way it so obviously hung below her dress when she bent over brought back memories of those happier days when she was a baby. The fact that she now appeared a lot more obedient and agreeable also hadn’t gone unnoticed although, she realised it could have been down to Sam’s reddened bottom. When it was time for Nathan’s afternoon nap she also put Samantha down at the same time and while there was a little argument, it was soon over and she complied. Popping a pacifier into her son’s mouth soon had him sucking wildly as he soothed himself to sleep whilst hugging one of his teddy bears. Without thinking she also slipped one between her daughter’s lips and was surprised to see her also sucking as she closed her eyes and slipped into her own little dream world. Soon both her children were out for the count and mommy was able to have time to assess what had happened. Neither she nor her husband had, with the arrival of Nathan, given Samantha any less attention so wondered if it was more than just sibling jealousy. However, her terrible behaviour at school showed she was quite the tyrant there and that pointed to something else in their daughter’s make up. Physical punishment had never been in the armoury these parents used. However, with this current action, Sam had learned that there were now very definite consequences to her conduct. Meanwhile, her mother decided she was going to at least try and see if she could develop on this more agreeable side to her daughter. * When her children woke up she first changed Nathan, who had inevitably wet himself as he slept, spending time making him giggle as she wiped him clean, powdered and re-diapered him. She covered that with a pair of clear plastic pants and then pulled on his favourite matching cartoon t-shirt and shorts. Happily dry and wide awake he rushed off into the sunlit garden to play on the swing. Sam had warily watched the entire procedure but didn’t dare get up before her mother had given permission. Despite a rather long, deep nap she wriggled uncomfortably in the sodden diaper and could still feel where her mother had spanked her and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. Once the soggy mass had been removed she anticipated getting her panties back but mom then proceeded to do the same as she had with Nathan; wiping her daughter clean, spreading on some lotion and getting her well powdered. However, despite this obviously leading to the inevitable conclusion Sam was surprised when her mother produced another disposable. The protest was noisy but not unexpected. Nevertheless, her mother just lifted her legs up, swatted her bottom a couple of times, slid the diaper into place and fastened it tightly around her hips whilst her stunned daughter tried to hold back the tears. * Sam was in shock. Twice in one day she bore the marks of her mother’s hand but didn’t know what she could do about it. She wanted to object, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tear the house down but she didn’t want to feel that pain again so, despite every bit of her body wanting to reject what was happening, she grumpily put up with it. As her mommy slipped a pair of plastic pants over her diaper, but before she let her go and play outside, she was told in no uncertain terms that her behaviour was not acceptable and that until she stopped being an awful sister to her brother and started to conduct herself as a young lady, she would be kept in diapers. With that her mommy stood her up, pointed to the door and told her to go and play in the garden with Nathan. Reluctantly she moved towards the door, she didn’t really want to go outside where someone might see her wearing her padded protection, she was a big girl after all but her mother had made it clear that was where she should go and acting up just wasn’t an option. Her mother watched as she waddled out the door. There was no doubt about it, that little glimpse of bulky padding showing beneath her dress made her look adorable. In some way she hoped her daughter would do something unpleasant again, just so she had reason to keep her dressed like that for a little while longer. * Whilst her children were playing in the garden she went to the attic and found some of the baby clothes she used to dress them in. Waves of nostalgia swept through her mind and she wished she could have both her little babies back. She found a pair of pink frilly plastic pants that Samantha had worn as a toddler and remembered how sweet she had looked in her little dress with the frills showing over her bulky padding as she pushed her toy pram. Most of the clothing was Sam’s she had been the first and as such received brand new baby clothes. Little Nathan, when he came along, was saddled with her hand me downs but she remembered that he always looked so sweet no matter what he wore. As her fingers touched each piece of clothing another wonderful memory came to mind. She chuckled to herself at the thought of when he wore the same pink frilly plastic pants that had somehow gravitated to her hands, and how he had crawled around the house unperturbed by such a sweet but ‘girly’ item. He was always such an easy-going bundle of joy and her heart filled with the love she shared with almost every other mother over her children… but sighed to herself as she wondered what had gone wrong with Samantha. * Unexpectedly, the afternoon passed off without any trauma, both her children played together and appeared to be getting on, which was a first for a long time. Sam had even helped her brother build a tent using a blanket and the washing line as they’d played at camping in the wild outback. She howled like a wolf, made chirping and squawking noises as she pretended she was a host of wild animals and Nathan giggled his enjoyment and feigned being scared as he hid behind a rock (the upturned clothes basket). Their mother hadn’t seen such simple pleasure for quite some time and both her kids seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. When her husband returned home from work he was astonished to see a very relaxed wife, and both his children playing happily in between watching snatches of TV. When he sat on the sofa after he’d eaten he was also surprised to find that this time not only Nathan came over for a cuddle but the normally fussy Samantha also wanted the same. Without making a scene she crept to the other side of her father and settled down as, with one in each arm, he hugged his children together. He looked over at his wife as if wanting an explanation but she just smiled and let him discover the secret for himself. It wasn’t long before he noticed that his daughter, like his son, was also padded and again looked to his wife for some sign as to why this was the case. She was smiling broadly at his incomprehension but he realised that whatever the reason it had appeared to work, for the time being at least, and for that he shrugged in gratitude. Perhaps, for the first time in many months, they would have an evening without a Sammy style outburst, or a neighbour complaining about their daughter’s behaviour. * At night both her children were put to bed at the same time. Both had protection, which once again Samantha tried to rebel against but her mother forcibly made her wear under the extreme threat of getting her daddy to administer a more severe punishment if she didn’t do as she was told. This warning had the desired effect and Sam quietly, if unhappily, submitted. She mumbled under her breath about not being a little baby and resented being put to bed at the same time as her silly little wet baby brother. So, she was still able to lash out even if this time it wasn’t as loud or as prolonged as normal and certainly she was more than a little unsure of the ground she stood on. Her mommy simply popped in her paci, pushed a teddy under her arm and told her to go to sleep. She added that she didn’t want to hear any sound and if there was it would mean ‘big trouble’. Leaving that warning to speak for itself she wished her sweet dreams, kissed her forehead and left to return downstairs to her perplexed husband. When his wife explained the way the day had panned out, and guiltily justified the spanking (which neither really agreed with), all became clear. Both seemed unhappy about what had happened but couldn’t deny the results. When she spoke about her idea to keep their seven year-old in diapers to see if the transformation was permanent, he had to concede that it was at least worth a try. The threat of a spanking as punishment was also going to be maintained but they hoped that the threat would be enough. He would support his wife in her decision but thought that Samantha was a very headstrong girl and expected some reaction to her new situation. His wife sighed as if she agreed that it was inevitable but, and she was adamant about this, she was going to pull out all the stops to try and curb her daughters aggressive activities. * Despite herself and her insistence that she didn’t need to go to bed so early Samantha had a very good night’s sleep and only woke up when her mother shook her to get ready for school. Through sleepy thoughts and wandering hands, which fell on her thick night time protection, she remembered what had happened the day before. The plastic pants felt strange as did the bulk between her legs but it slowly dawned on her that she had wet during the night. She hadn’t done such a thing since she was two and couldn’t understand why it had happened now. However, with mother standing over her and encouraging her to get up she shifted uneasily beneath the covers. Fearing a possible argument or tantrum her mother quickly pulled back the covers and pulled her out of bed and, like her daughter, was surprised to see the soaked diaper. Thankfully the plastic pants had kept everything else dry but even though her mother looked concerned the tears were welling up in Sam’s eyes. She was certain that she would get spanked for it and was crying because of the fear that had gripped her body, which unfortunately didn’t help as she peed a little more as she stood there weeping. Her mother took sympathy on her damp daughter and hugged her telling her it was OK and that sometimes little girls have accidents. Through her blubbing Sam tried to say that she wasn’t ‘little’ and not a baby and that it shouldn’t happen but all that came out was some childish whining and choked-back sobs. Soothing words eventually calmed the wet seven year-old as she was guided to the bathroom to change out of her soaked padding and to get ready for school. Her mother cleaned her up and went to retrieve her school uniform. Fearing that she would have to wear a diaper for school she started bawling even harder but calmed a little when she saw that her mother had returned with panties and not further protection. However, as her mother helped her get dressed she issued a further warning about her behaviour at school. If it didn’t get better, or any of the teachers had reason to complain, she would be wearing diapers to school every day for the rest of the term. Shocked at this terrible threat Samantha meekly put her uniform on and went downstairs for breakfast whilst her mother got Nathan ready for his day at nursery. * Once at school and away from her mother’s authority, the compliant Samantha quickly turned into the overbearing ‘Little Madame’ the teachers had come to dread. Creating uproar, making other children cry and generally being at the centre of mayhem soon led to her mother being called to once again come and collect her disruptive daughter. The drive home was a sullen affair, her mother angry beyond words and Sam insisting that she’d done nothing wrong and it was entirely the other kids fault for acting like babies. However, once through the door her mother quickly dragged her over her knee, pushed up her school skirt, pulled down her panties and smacked her bare bottom for the third time in two days. Whether Sam thought that it just wouldn’t happen again or not, her mother was not going to put up with such blatant disrespect for her, the teachers and other children. Never had Sam’s bottom been so thoroughly chastised and when her mother made her stand weeping in the corner and think about what she had done to deserve such a punishment her extremely red cheeks were testimony to the fury her mother had felt. Her tears eventually dried up and though her bottom stung she was getting bored standing in the corner waiting on the punishment to end. However, the angry words her mother had said about moving an inch were still ringing in her ears so thought better than to defy her so stayed put. Unfortunately for Sam her smarting bottom was just going to be the start of her ongoing punishment. **** Part 2 As she rubbed her sore bottom Samantha wanted some kind of revenge on her mother. Her mind was working on the things she planned on doing and, she thought conspiringly, ‘daddy had cuddled me yesterday so he will be on my side’. Alas for her she was unaware of what her parents had already agreed between them to try and tame their infuriatingly volatile daughter. The anger she felt at least took her mind of her glowing cheeks and she was in a seething world of her own when her mother re-entered the room armed with her daughter’s new clothing. Unable to contain her fury any longer she turned and screamed at her mother and ran off to her bedroom, where, for some reason, she thought she’d be safe. Her mother had always knocked before she entered and Sam naively believed that all she had to do was say “No” and her bedroom fortress could not be breached. Mommy would just go away and leave her to her own devices and eventually call her for dinner when it was ready. The trouble for Sammy was, her mother was not aware of any of this and simply stormed into her room, telling her in no uncertain terms that she needed to learn to behave. Sam was quick to avoid the grasping hands so jumped up and ran around the room, leaping on her bed whilst avoiding her chasing mother. Quick she may have been but her mother was clever and just waited for her to tire herself out as she shouted, screamed and threw things in her wake. Unfortunately for her, she tripped over one of the blankets she had thrown in her temper tantrum and, still kicking and screaming, was scooped up by her mother. Her red bottom was easily identifiable now she was wearing no panties and provided an obvious target for her mommy who delivered another couple of whacks to that already tender behind. Then, as a stunned and weeping Sam struggled to make sense of this departure from the norm, her mother stripped her out of the rest of her clothes, wrapped her in an ultra-thick fabric diaper, pinned it in place and told her that from now on any time she acted like a spoiled little baby, that was just how she would be treated. * Her mother picked her up, carried her downstairs and deposited her in the back garden and told her she was to play nicely in the sunshine with her brother until daddy got home. Wearing only a thick diaper it was Sam who now looked like the baby. Although Nathan was wearing his usual protection at least it wasn’t visible like Sam’s. He playfully told her that she looked like a big baby and was glad she’d come to play with him. It was amazing that, dressed like she was how her whole personality changed. She hadn’t reacted to her brother mentioning she looked like a baby and, once outside in the garden, she just got on and played the games that Nathan wanted. Her mother wondered if Sam was even aware of this dramatic change but she was intrigued as to why, as soon as she had her headstrong daughter diapered, all the anger, violence and screaming just stopped. As they played Nathan did something totally unexpected, he shrugged off his shorts and t-shirt and wore only his diaper like Sam. To him wearing such a thing was completely normal and often ran around the house dressed that way. His parents hadn’t tried to stop him, they enjoyed his diapered exuberance and he was such a contrast to Sam who would be the one often ridiculing him for being “such a baby”. Now, as mommy watched from the kitchen window, she couldn’t believe how sweet her two diapered children looked as they played some imaginative game that was producing gales of giggles. * Their father was somewhat bemused to sit at the dining table with both his children dressed only in diapers. He didn’t say anything because he knew there would be a good reason why his wife had taken such measures and was also relieved to sit through a meal with no squabbling. Indeed, Nathan was explaining what he had done at nursery and Sam quietly listened to all the conversations. Partly because she was worried that her mommy would tell daddy about her being naughty and perhaps… well… she didn’t want anything to happen as she planned on speaking to daddy later. After dinner Nathan sat in mommy’s lap watching TV whilst Sam cuddled up with her daddy. He gently patted her padded bottom as she squirmed around trying to be loving and endearing. She adopted a very childish voice, which was most definitely not what you expected from her, and whispered in his ear just how much she loved her daddy. Despite him realising she was planning something, it had been so long since she’d expressed any form of affection to anyone that he was quite taken aback. Once mommy took Nathan upstairs to bed she saw her opportunity to see if she could manipulate her father into agreeing she need not wear diapers ever again. Hugging daddy she said, in that false childish voice she hoped would sway him, that mommy was being cruel making her wear ‘baby clothes’ as she hadn’t done anything wrong. Her daddy snuggled his daughter tightly but replied that she must have done something as he was sure mommy wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Sam tried to force out some tears as she sniffed that it was all the teachers fault, they didn’t like her and made up lies about her to make her look bad. She looked at her father, desperately trying to hold back those crocodile tears, and told him that she could only rely on him not to be awful to her… protesting her innocence as she let a tear slide down her cheek. Her father was impressed with his daughter’s acting ability and was softened just a little by such a sterling performance. He tried to put Sammy’s mind at rest by saying that he was sure it would all be sorted out soon but in the meantime, and it would probably be only for a short while, the diaper stayed. “Besides,” he said grinning and trying to make his daughter feel better, “you look so cute… and your brother never seems to worry about wearing them.” She was still trying to gain her father’s confidence. “But daddy, he’s a baby and I’m a big girl… and big girls don’t wear diapers.” “They do if mommy tells them they do.” He stroked her head, “Naughty girls, no matter how big they are, wear diapers if their mommies think that’s what they need.” He held his daughter at arms-length and looked into her tear-streaked face. “Sometimes, mommies and daddies have to punish their naughty children… and you have been very naughty…” “No daddy I haven’t, it’s not my fault,” she blubbed. But her father noticed that even this protest was not as vocal or as strident as he would normally have heard from her. He hugged her close, patted her padded bottom in reassurance and told her not to worry, he was sure that her diaper days would soon be behind her. However, he couldn’t help thinking what a sweet nature she could have if she wanted. His wife’s insistence on her being diapered certainly had an amazing effect and, like her, thought that both their children looked delightful dressed in such a way. * Her mother called down that it was time for her bath and though disappointed at not having influenced her father she hung tightly onto his neck as he carried her upstairs. There was no denying the fact that he liked this affectionate version of his daughter. Carrying her cradled in his arms and stroking her padded bottom brought back his deep paternal thoughts. In that brief trip up the stairs he too remembered with a great degree of happiness just how Sam used to be when a baby. How soft she felt, how wonderful her childish hugs were, how sweetly she smelled of baby powder and lotion. His head was filled with all these thoughts when he put her down on her bed and began to unfasten her diaper. No sooner was the diaper removed than that hateful steely look reappeared in her eyes. She kicked out and kicked-off as her daddy tried to guide her to the bathroom. She saw her mother knelt down at the side of the bath washing and playing with Nathan who was giggling as bubbles were being piled on his head. Sam screamed that she wasn’t going to get in with her “smelly baby brother” and that she should have a bath to herself. However, her father picked her up and deposited her in the warm suds with her brother and a warning that he didn’t want to hear another word from her. This didn’t stop her complaining about everything. Nathan was in the way, the water was too hot (and too cold), the bubbles made her eyes sting, mummy rubbed too hard with the sponge… etc etc etc. * Mommy plucked a clean and fresh Nathan from the bath and snuggled him in a huge soft towel. She carried him back to his room, dried him off, powdered and diapered him, gave him his paci and teddy and left him to sleep. Then she went to her daughter’s room and got her nightwear ready only this time, her pjs were augmented with another thick fabric diaper. Once her daddy had fought through all the arguments and mess that her bath time routine had made, he also wrapped her in a towel and took her back to her room. Covered in such a huge thick towel she wasn’t able to run or kick or do anything other than lie still. Once he’d dried her, and while she was still relatively immobile he slipped the diaper under her and had it pinned in place in seconds. Sam’s protest died on her lips as her father pulled her pink pjs over it all and kissed her goodnight. Now she had Nathan settled her mother came in and, seeing her lay quietly in her bed, asked if she’d like a story. A very subdued Sam nodded so her mother picked up a book she’d read at an earlier time of her daughter’s life and began the tale of a pretty princess. Sam snuggled down with a stuffed toy and her mother remembered she had a paci in her pocket and offered it to her, which she happily sucked on as the story continued. It wasn’t long before she too dropped asleep and both parents couldn’t believe how much difference the diaper made. They discussed what had happened during the day and the punishment that had been dealt out. Strange that they both felt so guilty about a strategy that seemed to be working but it was decided that, in the morning, when they were getting her ready for school she would be diapered… just to see if her attitude there could also be changed. * Again Sam slept right through and was only roused from sleep by her mother’s gentle shaking. Sleepily she tried to make sense of where she was and what she was doing with a thick, wet diaper between her legs. This time, because she wasn’t wearing any plastic protection, the diaper itself had not been enough to prevent her pjs, blanket, sheets and mattress from getting a bit of a soaking. As her mother realised what had happened Sam started crying and shaking her head. She just couldn’t understand why, for the second time in two days, she’d woken up wet - she was a big girl and big girls don’t have accidents. Her mother made a note to remember plastic pants next time and felt silly that she had already bought a couple of pairs for her but hadn’t thought to put them on her that night. Still, it was a damp lesson, and one she was determined not to make again. However, whilst her daughter was coming to terms with what had happened, she quickly dried her off, wiped her clean and powdered her before slipping her quickly into a waiting disposable. Sam wasn’t really aware of the quick change so only realized what she was wearing when her mother slipped over a pair of pale blue plastic pants which matched her school uniform. She really wanted to object but was still feeling a little bit ashamed of her mishap. Her mother simply didn’t allow her protest to materialize and soon had her dressed for school. Other than the soft crinkle sound she made as she walked, no one would have been aware of the fact she was now diapered. However, Sammy was well aware of this fact. She thought the rustling noise she made could be heard by everyone who had ears, the thick feeling between her legs a constant reminder and although she hated it there was nothing she could do and would just have to put up with all her friends laughing and calling her names. * Mommy dropped her off at school and walked her into the classroom where she was left to go and join the other pupils. Meanwhile, her mother had a word with the teacher, passed her a bag which contained spare disposables and told her that Sam had had an accident during the night and that they thought, for everyone’s benefit, it might be best if she wore some protection for the rest of the day. Her teacher seemed slightly taken aback at this turn of events but nodded her understanding of the situation and she would see to it that if Sam needed a change, it would be done without any fuss. Despite herself, Sam wet her diaper twice whilst at school so without any fuss she was sent to the nurse who changed her. Sam may have felt awful about having such accidents but she was by no means the only girl in her class who also needed their diaper changed. She still didn’t understand why she wet just because she wore a diaper but the pee came unannounced and the only time she realized what had happened was when she felt the disposable swelling under the deluge. The other thing she was amazed by was that none of her classmates commented on either the crinkle sound or her frequent trips to the nurse, they all seemed relieved that at least for the time being, Sam wasn’t as shrill as she often was. However, the teacher also noticed that, despite her occasional need for a change, her behaviour had improved dramatically. She’d always been the brightest of all the children in her group and had dominated every one of them in every subject and, to a certain extent, the teachers had part thought this was why she acted up so much. Perhaps she felt stifled by her peers and her bad actions were her way of drawing attention to this problem. Maybe, but there was no denying that whatever her parents had done or said to her, she appeared to have calmed down considerably. The teacher didn’t make the connection between the protection and her behaviour but, when her mother came to collect her and heard about such positive conduct, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that she had found some kind of solution to her daughter’s aggression. On the car journey home Sammy was quiet but looked a little grumpy. Her mother tried to make conversation but she just gave one word answers. At least she wasn’t being nasty just deep in thought or at least had her mind on other things. When they arrived back at the house it was patently obvious why Sam had been so quiet, she’d wet herself again and was more confused than ever as to why. Thankfully the plastic pants had protected the car seat and contained the flood but she was a very waterlogged girl who desperately needed changing. * Her mother let her wallow in her damp diaper for a while whilst she unloaded the car and started to put her shopping away. Sam looked most dejected as she waited for her mommy to finish what she was doing and help her change. Eventually, she finished and shooed her daughter up to her room. Once there she helped her take off her school uniform, which left her standing there in the swollen protection. Sam was just pleased that there was no one else who could see what she could see. Her mother helped her out of the plastic pants and the disposable was saggy and saturated. Pulling at the tabs released the weight and, to Sam’s great relief, it flopped to the ground. Her mother laid her back on the bed and cleaned her up; wiping and powdering her thoroughly. Sam may not have liked it but realised that, whilst she was wetting herself, the diapers would be staying. So, when her mother fixed her into a thick fabric diaper like the one she’d worn the day before, she could do nothing but accept her fate. This time, and like Nathan always wore, she had a pair of clear plastic pants pulled over them. Her mommy added a pink t-shirt and was about to add a pair of shorts when she realised that the padding was too thick for them to fit. In the end, like the previous day, she was left to wander around the house in just her protection. Her mother was overjoyed when, just before Nathan arrived home from nursery (dropped off by a neighbour who also had a child at the same place) Sam climbed on the sofa with her and cuddled into her lap. Like her daddy the day before, this was the first act of affection that Sam had expressed for quite some time. Her mother couldn’t have been happier or more thankful and, with an emotional tear in her eye, snuggled her daughter tightly. ***** Part 3 For the next few weeks Samantha wore a diaper to school as well as at home. Every morning she would wake up wet but now took it as normal. She still had no idea why she should be in such a state but now that she did she no longer reacted. The enquiring, lively, though ultimately argumentative young girl had been replaced by someone with a much more placid demeanour, whilst her brother had never had such an attentive playmate. Both mother and father were proud of their daughter and although her diapers were proving extra work for them, it was more than compensated by the fact she was so much calmer and such a pleasure to be around. Also, and this was something they were both relieved about, they no longer needed to spank (or threaten to spank) Sam to make her do as she was told. At school it was like she was a different person, no one was scared or intimidated when she entered the room like they had been before. Also, she soon learned that she didn’t have to go to the nurse every time she wet, the disposable would soak up and store her pee leaving her feeling relatively dry, if slightly more bulky. She even got used to her plastic protection ballooning out a tad as her diaper expanded but waddled around expertly not letting on about her ‘misfortune’ until she arrived home. The moment she got in mommy would always lift her skirt, push a finger past her elasticated leg-holes and check, then if needed (which was nearly always), whisk her up to her room where a store of disposables, fabric diapers, plastic pants, wipes, various lotions and powders now awaited her regular changing routine. Gone was the anger, the shouting and near hysterics that had caused so many problems in the past, all being replaced by an affectionate sweetheart who seemed to be getting cuter and more adorable by the day. Her mother was really enjoying the transformation from disassociated seven year-old into an endearing little miss. She heaped praise and love on her almost nonstop and was even more overjoyed by the positive and tender reactions it brought. So many hugs, cuddles, kind words and general compassion were now happening naturally, it was as if Sam had remembered what it was like to be nice. Mommy purchased prettier diapers, more colourful and fancy plastic pants, as well as an array of new clothing that emphasised what a darling, devoted, little daughter she had. When they went out Sam’s delightful pastel-coloured summer dresses had gotten shorter to reveal her matching padded panties. Sam appeared not to even notice this ‘devolution’ in her clothing and no longer argued about anything she was made to wear. However, her mother was getting much too comfortable and at ease at the way her ‘reborn’ daughter had so effortlessly returned to those less-fraught toddler days. * It used to be a regular event that Nathan would request to go ‘potty’ after the deed was already done. He seemed to only know about it after it had happened and of course by then it was too late. However, as Sammy appeared to be getting younger Nathan was getting the hang of actually using the potty on time. He still occasionally had accidents but they were becoming less and less frequent and both his parents were relieved at this sudden progress. Almost overnight he began to go to school in ‘big boy’ briefs, and as a typical four year-old, when he was with his chums, enjoyed this step up from being a little kid. However, at home there was a different and unforeseen development. As his sister scooted around the house, often wearing little more than her diaper and plastic pants, he wanted to wear the same as she had on. Not that he wanted her girly clothes, he just wanted to wear the same kind of thick diapers and brightly coloured plastic pants as his sister, perhaps missing their snug and comforting quality. As soon as he returned home from pre-school he’d change out of his briefs and ask his mommy to fit a diaper. If they were playing out together and Sam was wearing something new, even if it was something frilly and pink, it didn’t bother him, he wanted to match. He’d sulk if he didn’t get it, though thankfully there was never the histrionics that Samantha inflicted on everyone. He just asked, begged, looked dejected and promised he’d never ask for anything ever again, if only he could wear whatever Sammy was wearing. He wasn’t even using his diaper as much as Samantha, more often than not waking up dry, but it was as if he wanted to show solidarity with her predicament so, he’d decided to dress like her. Despite an initial resistance from his parents, they saw no harm in his request and eventually gave in to his rather sweet desires... even if it was for something pink and frilly. His mommy checked the stuff she had in the attic from when they were both toddlers and found the plastic pants she’d reminisced about only days before. She just hoped that if they fit it would stop Nathan from looking glum because the household had become a pretty cheerful place. The silky plastic cover was a bit of a squeeze over his thick fabric diaper, the frilly nature not worrying Nathan one little bit. He was just happy to be dressed the same as his sister. And that joy was catching because mommy and daddy were equally thrilled to see their two children deep in some game, playing together, or laid out watching TV wearing their matching outfit. Their vibrant padded little posteriors repeatedly making new memories that both parents had thought were long gone. * The entire environment in the house had changed. Bed times were no longer proceeded by refusal and argument, in fact, Sam had started going at the same time as her younger brother without so much as a sulk or pout. On alternative evenings each parent took turns in settling the children down; bathing them, changing them, reading stories and making sure that a pacifier and correct plushie were in attendance. A kiss, a hug and a sweet ‘night-night’ was enough for their children to sleep right through until morning. Neither parent could believe that from 7pm they now had peaceful evenings to themselves and could completely relax. Mom was able to get back to her favourite pastime of dress making, while her husband found time to decorate and repair the many things that had just been left due to a lack of time that a disruptive house caused. Mommy made new outfits for both her children but they were aimed more at Nathan’s age group, than Sammy’s. Cute cartoon characters festooned many designs, though any new dress for her daughter was complemented by a pair of shorts for Nathan. Both children seemed to enjoy coordinating their clothes and were often found in each other’s bedroom discussing what they should wear. A padded bottom had never bothered Nathan and now Sammy didn’t care either. Her wetting was manageable so, perhaps because of the peace which now reigned, neither parent thought it strange that she was continually in damp diapers. Mommy and daddy loved their sweet and well-behaved little urchins and were often complimented by other parents who struggled to control their own kids. Moments like that made them feel that they were doing something right but failed to question how this turn around in Sam’s behaviour had come about. They’d taken it for granted that the harsh but, as they saw it, pertinent spanking had made her realise the destructive course she was on and helped her mend her ways. The diaper punishment had emphasised that her parents were determined to see that transformation in a permanent way and eventually Sam, even as just a seven year-old, had grasped that need for change. Her parents were enjoying this break from a home constantly on the verge of turmoil and certainly didn’t want anything to disrupt the tranquillity they’d achieved. So, although the daily soaked diapers were a shame they considered them as collateral damage, though something she would eventually grow out of. They had tried on a number of occasions to let Sam out of her protection but she still spontaneously wet her panties, the bed and the furniture and looked most gloomy until returned to the comfort and security they offered. * During the second month of Sam’s dramatic behavioural turnaround her mommy was called into school. This hadn’t happened for such a long time that she was shocked by such a request and the phone call had given her no cause to lose a sudden feeling of dread. Once in the office, and nervously smiling, she took her seat opposite a very serious looking Principal. After the cursory pleasantries he held up a sheaf of papers lying on his desk. They were a selection of childish drawings and paintings, scrawls and daubs that any mother of a two year-old would be proud to stick on her fridge, although she wondered why they were being shown to her. He explained that from being the brightest seven year-old in school Samantha now had no attention span, lacked any drive, appeared to have forgotten all that she knew and that this ‘artwork’ was as much as they could get her to do these days. Shaking the sheaves of paper in bewilderment he wanted to know what had happened to alter Samantha’s personality to such a dramatic degree. A cold, dark feeling of guilt and horror had crept into the pit of her stomach. Sam’s mother searched for the correct words to explain the change. She didn’t mention the spanking, she only mentioned about the return to diapers because… for some reason… her mind was racing for a plausible excuse. She came up with one - perhaps it was as a result of stress at school? Maybe that’s why she’d become incontinent? Seeing the Principal now slightly on the back-foot, and desperate to avoid any blame, she continued that maybe all the acting up at school was as a result of their teaching methods? Perhaps, Samantha was sensitive to such pressures that fall upon a seven year-old and she’d rebelled in the only way she knew how? The Principal was shaken by this accusation but, realising she had the slight upper-hand for the time being, seized the opportunity to leave but not before delivering a final desperate comment. For the sake of her child perhaps it would be for the better if Sam was home-schooled from now on and no longer subject to whatever pressurized regime the Principal may have installed in the classroom. * As she collected her daughter from another concerned looking teacher her mind was in turmoil. She smiled wanly and picked up her daughter, felt that her diaper was full but carried her straight to her car. Samantha was telling her mommy what a nice teacher she had and that she’d had a wonderful time painting and playing most of the day. The fact that she was soaked appeared to have no effect on the enthusiasm about school she was sharing with her mommy. On the journey home she responded to her daughter with nods, smiles and the occasional “Yes sweetheart” but her mind was racing for an explanation. Neither she nor her husband had gone too deeply into why she wet but had only been so thankful for the change. Surely, she thought, it couldn’t be the spanking that had made the difference but then she remembered, at the beginning, Sam would still react and shout and scream even after getting her bottom slapped. No, she determined, it was definitely down to when she was put into diapers… that was when she appeared to calm down the most. It was also the time when she began to become incontinent because her morning diaper was always soaked. Her mother was on the verge of panic; what had she done to her lively, outgoing daughter? Once home she quickly stripped her daughter out of her sodden protection. After she’d wiped and powdered her, instead of the diaper she went and found a pair of her little school girl panties. She slipped them up her well-powdered thighs, pulled on a sweet summer dress she’d recently made and sent her out to play. Sam looked a bit upset at not having her diaper in place but these days never argued with her mother and went gloomily to play on the garden swing and wait for her brother to get home. Desperate for some answers her mother searched the internet, clicking on a multitude of sites to see if any other parent had similar experiences. She was angry with herself, and her husband, for not getting to grips with this earlier. Between them they had just been grateful for the less stressful existence. She realised that once she had Sam in diapers, and Nathan to a certain extent, she had babied them both; neither had to make a decision, everything was done for them, she was even happy to dress them as toddlers so that mommy and daddy were simply too grateful to have such sweet, loving children. * As she peered out of the kitchen window to keep an eye on what Sam was up to she was horrified to see her squat down, and without pulling down her panties, begin to pee. A puddle began to form under her but it was obvious from her expression that she was delivering more than just her urine into her pants. Her mother caught her just in time before she went to play on the swing again in her messy panties and rushed her into the house and led her up to the bathroom. She sat her on the toilet and explained that was what it was for but Sam just had a quizzical look and started to unravel the roll of pink toilet paper. Her mother was suddenly struck by the complete lack of understanding her daughter now had of the rudiments she had mastered when she was two. Why she hadn’t been aware of this shift in her daughters decreasing perception she could do nothing but blame herself. However, she was desperate to get Sam back on track… somehow. Nonetheless, first thing first, she needed to clean her up and that meant, for the time being at least, back into diapers and plastic pants. For the first time in a long time she reluctantly applied the various creams and lotions whilst hoping that she would be able to get her potty trained again, especially now that Nathan had managed it. However, as she pinned on the diaper and slipped on her frilly plastic cover, she couldn’t help but think how cute and adorable her daughter was when she was so dependent. Her joyful giggles and laughter rang around her room, the kisses of gratitude and affectionate hugs that always followed her diaper change, the general feeling of happiness that radiated from her sweet smile must, her mother continued to argue internally, account for something. * Mother was in a dilemma, now she knew about her daughter’s apparent regression at school she couldn’t pretend that everything was hunky dory. There had been occasional nagging doubts about the ease with which Sam had accepted her new status but her mommy had just been too overjoyed at getting her little sweetheart back that she pushed them to the back of her mind. Now that the school was aware she couldn’t pretend any more. Despite her vociferous defence of her daughter to the Principal, she knew she would have to do something and perhaps taking her out of school was not the answer. She called the school and apologised to the Principal for accusing them of having a regime of any kind and asked if he had any suggestions as to what could be the problem. He suggested a child psychologist that the school had used in the past who might get to the bottom of the problem. Sam’s mother froze at the word ‘bottom’ and guiltily remembered the red and inflamed little bottom that she’d inflicted on her darling little seven year-old all those months ago. The problem was that she was torn. Torn between doing the right thing for her daughter and torn between the overall pleasures the family now enjoyed. Was she being selfish? Was she in denial? Was it really that awful to have a happy child rather than an aggressive terror that upset everyone? Neighbours who in the past had crossed the street to avoid Sammy were now happy to see her winning smile and cute clothing, and when she and her brother were out together everyone commented on how adorable they both looked “…and so well behaved.” But, as she got older and grew up, her mother realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep her as a toddler for ever. She shouldn’t be washing diapers and changing her children even if she was actually enjoying doing so. This was going to be harder than she thought. There was no doubt that her children were at an age where all this was OK and it didn’t look that strange but could she really see her kids still running around in colourful diapers when they got into their teens? She wavered but eventually came to a conclusion: No, the child psychologist was the way to go and perhaps sort out Sammy’s problem once and for all. ***** Part 4 Samantha slipped effortlessly into her teens, probably because she had no idea what being a teenager meant. She may have grown in size but her mind was still that of a toddler; she wore what a toddler liked to wear and, despite everything, was still dressed in diapers. The psychiatrists (yes, psychiatrists plural), had been useless. The one the school recommended thought it was just a phase and, even after repeated visits, couldn’t come up with a suitable answer as to why Sam was stuck in such a childish regression. Reluctantly her mommy had admitted to the doctor that she had severely spanked her but that couldn’t explain such a dramatic turn of events, could it? The psychiatrist had doubted that such action would have made a prolonged impression and concluded that she was just happy being a little girl again. This didn’t help anyone, except the doctor’s continued fees, so, when Sam’s daddy had got promoted and they moved to another city, they sought a second opinion. However, this doctor, with an array of letters and certificates after his name, was similarly useless. They tried several methods of changing Sam’s routine, dress, behaviour but now, because no school would take someone her age acting like she did, mommy had her at home full time. Between them the new psychiatrist and her mommy adopted new strategies to reach into Sam’s ‘little’ head but all they got in return where smiles, giggles and wet diapers. * Meanwhile, Nathan was also rapidly growing up and had become quite a ten year-old handful in his own right. Not that he was anything like Sammy had been at seven; he was successful at school in both academic work and athletics, captaining the school’s soccer team. He was popular and always in demand from school friends, neighbours and teachers, nothing was too much trouble for him to try and undertake. Having said that, his main priority was still his ‘baby’ sister, who, despite everything, he adored and who he spent time with still dressing as she did in her protection. It was strange that he’d never grown out of that desire and he’d told his mother at one point that it was a real connection he had with his sweet sister that he hoped would never change. It had never occurred to either parent that Nathan’s desire for diapers should be spoken about to the psychiatrists, it was just thought it was something a loving brother did for his ‘baby’ sister. He was now of the opinion that she was born as a ‘toddler’ and that is all he remembered of her, being fun, childish and loving. He never recalled the nasty things she used to do to him when she was angry or simply out of control, he only ever remembered her as she is now… an older sister who just happened to be a dependent little baby, who he doted on. The move to a different city also meant that Samantha’s parents could also start anew and didn’t have to come up with any reason for their daughter’s ‘problem’. Any new colleague, neighbour, doctor just assumed that they had a daughter who was ‘slow’. Perhaps damaged in some way or perhaps from birth, Sam’s parents never made any excuses or gave any reasons so it was left to the individual to come up with their own diagnosis for Sam’s condition. Nearly always it was sympathetic and people were genuinely entranced by such a happy family, who looked good, were perfectly behaved and had a son who was so obviously concerned for his sister’s wellbeing. Yes, in many ways they had become the perfect new caring neighbours and ones who were a delight to be around. * Sam always looked sweet and childlike now her mommy was making her clothes and dressing her in that ‘special’ way that was so charming. Around the house she was still mainly dressed in colourful diapers and plastic pants, with a pretty little t-shirt with a cartoon or animal print on the front. Sam had developed a love for kittens so her room and most of her clothes had the delightful little depictions of the creatures on everything. Even her plastic pants had little pink kittens chasing a ball of pink string running all over them and she looked so cute. Even though she was definitely growing taller and developing she would cry and sulk if she wasn’t in her diaper. And, if she was wearing diapers, so did her caring and considerate brother, who continued to be selfless when it came to making his sister not appear ‘different’. Because the doctors had been hopeless in treating Sam, her mommy and daddy had just decided they would make the best of the situation. There was nothing they could do that they hadn’t tried and nothing had worked. The only time that smile came back onto their daughter’s face is when she was back in her protection and her brother was playing some fabulous game with her. Her parents had settled back into making the most of a… not bad situation… and were enjoying the pleasure their ten and ‘two’ year-old gave them. * Two weeks after Sammy’s thirteenth birthday she woke up grumpy most unlike the way she usually greeted the day. The smile had disappeared, her teddy bear was thrown on the floor, her bed clothes were in complete disarray and, for the first time in almost six years, she hadn’t woken up wet. Sat on the side of her bed wearing just a cute t-shirt and thick protection Sam was in no mood for silliness. She screamed for her mother, who was just about to wake her, and demanded to know why she was dressed in such a “stupid, stupid, babyish fashion?” Her mother was taken by surprise at this aggressive behaviour and tried to placate her ‘little morning ray of sunshine’ but Sam was having none of it. She ripped herself out of her plastic pants, little kittens suddenly needing more than a ball of sting to run after, as she tugged at her thick, well-pinned night time diaper. The normally placid routine was replaced by a furious teenager who wanted answers and wasn’t content with soothing words from her mother. Eventually removing her diaper it fell to the floor dry but with something else that hadn’t been foreseen. * Even though she was now a teenager Samantha’s mommy had never thought to tell her daughter about growing up and the onset of menstruation. To everyone she had been this cute little child, full of fun and happiness, it was felt unnecessary to burden her with tales about growing up but, here she was, blood in her diaper, furious and seething about something her mother hadn’t seen for, well, over six years. Hearing the commotion Nathan walked into his sister’s bedroom dressed in exactly the same nightwear that she had been wearing and stood at the door waiting for his mother to explain what was happening. Sam saw her ‘stupid little baby brother’ still wearing diapers nervously hovering by the door and called out what a ‘big stupid baby’ he was. Her mother didn’t know what to do or say as Sam, now naked, swept past her and checked her closet. She pulled out all the childish clothing, screaming abuse at whomever it was that had stolen and changed her clothes for all this, baby stuff. She pulled the sweet little dresses off their hangers and threw them to the floor in disgust and demanded to know where her ‘proper’ clothes were. Her mother was still trying to calm her down and still talking to her like she was a two year-old. Sam looked at her mother in disgust and sarcastically told her to try and speak like a grown up for a change… it might be OK for the likes of him (and she pointed to a very panicky brother still unsure of what was going on) he may enjoy baby talk but she called emphatically… I’m a big girl. Just like that, the seven year-old Samantha was back and it felt like she had returned with a vengeance. * Her mother tried to explain that she’d been ‘ill’ and that she’d been kept in diapers because she was wetting everywhere. Sam wasn’t having any of this nonsense and demanded to know where her clothes were, she couldn’t even find her panties and wanted to get dressed for school. Despite her pleading for her to ‘just listen’ Sam was not in a mood for listening to anyone. Her mother thought the only solution was to spank her to make her behave and she pulled her across her lap and set about a hard spank to Sam’s wriggling bottom. Now being a bigger and stronger thirteen year-old, the process wasn’t as simple as it once was and Sam was able to wriggle free and for the first time in her life, struck out at her mother. She screamed that if she ever tried to smack her again she’d regret it and stormed off to the bathroom past her younger brother who was now suddenly standing with a quivering bottom lip and in his own very wet diaper. The unfolding scene had upset him and it was if he had suddenly been catapulted back to a time he’d tried his best to subdue. That awful person who had just tried to hit his mother was no longer the sweet little sister he adored but a bully he was afraid of. He may have grown up himself but unexpectedly that sad and scared little boy reappeared and so had his real need for diapers. The whole scene had become a nightmare and the warm flow that suddenly engulfed his diaper produced a tremor which made him burst into tears. * With Sammy having locked herself in the bathroom, her mother went to see to her shocked son. She was surprised to see him so distraught and even more surprised at his heavily sagging diaper. He’d not wet himself since, well, since Sammy had started wearing diapers. He took some cajoling but eventually she was able to get him cleaned up and dressed for school. He seemed very unsure and confused and needed constant approval from his mother to know he was doing the right thing. Thankfully his friend arrived and they went off to catch the school bus together so that was at least one problem solved. Eventually, Sam realised she couldn’t stay in the bathroom all day and emerged to be told that she’d been ill for quite some time and that the only clothes available to her now were those she had thrown on the floor. Even to Samantha this entire experience was a bit debilitating and her thought process missed an opportunity to find clothes that fit. She could have raided her mother’s closet, or even stolen some of her brothers clothes, however, neither of these options presented themselves in her confused mind. So, despite her arguing that she could never wear such things her mother insisted that until they could go shopping they were all that was available. # Reluctantly she fastened herself into a disposable (she wouldn’t let her mother anywhere near her), pulled up a pink diaper cover that looked more like panties than plastic pants and slipped over her head what she regarded as the least offensive looking dress she could find. It was short and still showed off her padded bottom but at least it wasn’t too obvious. It would have to do until they made it to the mall, which she was insisting they set off for immediately as she had no intention of wearing ‘this’ (she flapped at her dress in revulsion) for a second longer than necessary. Mentally she may have still been a seven year-old but Sam soon realised that she was much bigger than she remembered. She had no recollection of this so-called ‘illness’ but surmised that her mother must be telling her the truth. However, why she should have been dressed in such a babyish fashion she could only guess and her seven year-old brain had come to the conclusion that her parents had wanted her that way. She was easier to control as a baby, she had no opinions and what better way to stop her from arguing… stomping… screaming…??? As the car sped towards the city’s main mall Sam suddenly thought about how she used to be, well how she was, well, now she was confused. Quite a lot of her past was filling her head and as she understood she began to smile. She liked being the centre of everything; she liked that the world revolved around her and her opinions, she liked that she could ruffle up neighbours and teachers and other kids just by behaving in an aggressive way. She liked getting her own way, even if it disrupted everybody else’s life. This was a lot to take in as she peered sideways at her intense looking mother desperately trying to concentrate on driving and wondering what to expect now she had her ‘vindictive’ daughter back. In such a short space of time Sam had gone from a toddler, to a seven year-old and now an arrogant teen, she was growing up fast but there again, she thought, she had quite a bit of time to catch up on. * Sam was appalled to find that the diaper was quite comfortable to wear as the drive neared its conclusion. She could see the mall in the distance and it was only the amount of traffic that was hindering their progress but found that she was unintentionally wriggling around in her protection. The smooth, padded feel of the plastic panties against the car seat material was making her feel strangely happy. She soon cut that train of thought out. She wasn’t about to regress again but she was interested in knowing why, with a diaper taped in place, she should now feel a little bit more contented. However, there were a million other things going on in her rapidly expanding mind and getting to the clothes store was the priority. # It didn’t take her long to get a complete new wardrobe of trendy clothes. She may have given the shop assistants a hard time as she slipped into an array of different items, throwing things on the floor as she looked at something new. She saw what other girls her age were wearing and copied them adding her own touches here and there. In less than two hours she was dressed as a normal thirteen year-old girl, in jeans and patterned top, panties, platform shoes and clutching a quilted purple purse that seemed to be all the rage. She wanted to immediately throw away the outfit she arrived in but her mother put it in a bag to take home… diaper and all. Sam couldn’t see the point in keeping it but then said that perhaps her ‘baby brother’ could wear it, as it was far more ‘his style’ than hers. There was no way Sam was going to carry it, she had more than enough bags crammed with new clothing, so her mother had that responsibility when they returned to the car for the journey home. Sam didn’t know any of the songs on the car radio and was surprised to hear baby songs when she pushed the CD button. The look of horror on Sam’s face was equalled by her mother’s huge audible sigh at the loss of recent happier excursions they had taken together. She pressed the eject button then watched as it slowly emerged from the slot, then with a shrug and another sigh tossed the offending silver disc onto the rear seat. * Back home Sam wasted no time in emptying her closet of everything she disliked, which was everything. Her cute, newly made dresses, tops, skirts, together with the collection of nappies, disposables, plastic pants, wipes, powder etc. all went in a big pile, which she cheekily placed on her brother’s bed. She told her mother that he was the only baby now so she would have no further need for any of it and, slamming her bedroom, door shouted that she expected to be treated as an adult in future. The stroppy seven year-old had turned into a very demanding teenager who expected everything but wasn’t prepared to do anything for it. Her mother called her husband to tell him of this new development and both were sobbing at the realization of what they had lost and knew that hoping things might be different this time, was just an act of denial. They thought they knew what was coming but a thirteen year-old’s demands are louder and more confrontational than either was comfortable with. Threats had no meaning, discipline was hard to exact because all Sam kept on reminding them of was - they had kept her as a baby for six years and she was determined to make them pay. Meanwhile, in what seemed a very short space of time, her out-going younger brother, antagonized by his demon sister, regressed almost totally back to being a terrified toddler. The constant ridicule, her sneering, together with her scary anger had that affect - he didn’t want to wear diapers on a night but for some reason had started wetting himself. If Samantha was in the vicinity, just seeing her made him lose any control over his bladder. The flow would be instant and unhindered… there was only one solution and that was for him to wear protection. It got so bad that he was even wearing diapers to school, which some of the kids were only too happy to ridicule him about, which in turn made him even more nervy and scared. The traumatising didn’t stop at school. His loving sister making sure he knew his place, and she reasoned, as his parents had wanted a baby so much, he should take her place. It wasn’t hard to make that a possibility as Nathan seemed to have returned to being completely and utterly dominated by his ‘caring and loving’ sister. Her ‘baby’ clothes quickly found another recipient for their use and Sam would enjoy making sure her baby brother was appropriately dressed. Samantha was once again happy with the return to her status as the centre of attention. She ruled the house, though every night both her parents wished for a return of their ‘little’ daughter… their wish wasn’t granted. Every time Nathan had an accident or was seen to wet his pants, Sam would be there with a cruel word to mock him and insisted he be treated as she had been - those cute little childishly designed clothes her mother had made especially for her looked equally good on her diaper-clad brother. Friends and neighbours who previously thought they were just the ideal family were treated to a constant tirade from this precocious and horrible young lady who had turned into a rebellious and frankly jumped up, self-opinionated she-devil. Samantha revelled in her growing celebrity and enjoyed taking her cowering little baby brother anywhere she could ridicule him and force him to walk around often wearing embarrassing ‘frilly’ protection. He was always too scared to fight her or argue with her or say anything to her… she took control of him as easily as she had taken back control of the household. Despite attempts to get her to revisit a doctor or psychologist she simply refused any such suggestion. They, she decided, had made her into a little baby for too many years so now, it was her time and her teen years were going to be a terrible experience for everyone except her. The blood in her diaper had been the spur to grow up. Now, she was having the time of her life, whilst making everyone else’s a complete misery. ***************** The End

(Continued from last post of later version) "Sweetie, you can't take something what don't belong to you." said sternly Sammy and gave pacifier to fox girl. She also gave Brooke her own pacifier which would make her really gentle for other. She then left room.

SnuggleBunny It was a sad occasion. My mother had recently died and I was clearing out her home. In the attic were several boxes of her mementos but one had my name on it. It contained all my clothes, photos, albums and a host of things from my childhood going back as far as to when I was a baby. In fact, pride of place, at the top of the pile was SnuggleBunny, my stuffed toy that went everywhere with me as a child. It was a very strange emotion. I may well be a twenty-seven year-old adult but I hadn’t seen, or thought about it… well him actually… for over 20 years. However, with him sitting in the box, all cute and furry, I just wanted to pick him up and have a huge hug. Placed next to him, almost as if he was holding it in one of his paws, was a photograph of me. I must have been about 2 years-old at the time as I was still dressed in just my diapers, with my one year-old sister Emily sitting on the floor – and I was holding ‘Snuggles’ by one of his long ears. I remember he never left my side. We did everything together, played, ate, slept… SnuggleBunny and me… we were inseparable. When I hugged him I could feel him hugging me right back, it was as if he was welcoming me to a time I’d left far too soon. We were very happy then when mommy and daddy… er… when… errrmm… whe… mommeeeee………. ***************** “Mommeeeee,” I cried because I was wet. I could feel the dampness in my diaper and I suspect it must have been like that for some time as it was all cold and … Hold on, this doesn’t seem right. I look down. Yes, I am wearing a diaper. A very soggy diaper and I’m guiltily chewing on Snuggles’ ear while I wait for mommy to come. Those ears are well soaked themselves with a couple of years of me sucking on them when I want to feel comforted and I… No, no, no. What’s going on? I can see I’m dressed like in the photograph but… ah… I must be dreaming. That’s it. I’ve just fallen asleep and I’m dreaming of my childhood. Phew, I thought I was going mad for a moment then but… Dadddeeee. “Come here my little wet Puppy,” He had his arms spread as wide as the smile on his face as I waddled over to him and let him wrap those strong arms around me. He pats my butt. “Mmm you are one wet little boy aren’t you? Let’s get you changed before you get a rash.” He effortlessly picks me up and of course Snuggles comes along too, we are rarely separated as he carries me into… my nursery? Hell, what is going on? How can I be so conscious of all this and yet… I’m a child, a toddler and my father has been dead since I was six. But, but, erm, it really is good to see him again. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed him every day of every year since he died and now… he’s here if only in my dreams. I cry and hug tightly onto my father’s neck. I don’t want to let go. I have my daddy back. Oh God this is weird and wonderful all at the same time. In all those years I’ve never had an experience like this, where my father, my daddy, is so real and… He lays me down on the counter and slowly unpins my diaper. “Who’s a soggy little tyke?” He smiles and tickles my tummy and I giggle and laugh and wriggle as he pulls the damp material away. As he wipes and powders me dry he’s making noises to keep me amused; blowing raspberries and counting my toes while singing a little rhyme. I love my daddy. I love my mommy as well but she isn’t here. Oh no. As I lay wriggling on the counter I realise that both my parents are dead… yet here he is… my daddy, changing me like he used to do. “There you are champ.” He says as he pulls up a pair of plastic pants over my diaper. “Let’s find you some pants” and goes over to the closet and gets my favourite shorts with the animals all over them. Oh yes. I’d forgotten all about them. I wonder if mom kept them as well. They were nice. Daddy pulls them over my diaper, pats my padded bottom and sends me out to play. Snugglebunny is with me so we carry on playing the game we were in the middle of when I realised I was wet. Snugglebunny is smiling. I’m smiling. I’m so happy. It’s a lovely hot day outside. Emily is asleep in mommy’s arms as she sits lazing in the garden under the shade from a tree. Daddy is bringing out lemonade for us all and I rush over to join them on the blanket that has been set out. It’s covered in Em’s toys so I sit with Snuggles and happily play with her stuff while she sleeps, and while mommy and daddy chat quietly about their day. I shake my head. I know this is ideal but, I really need to wake up and get on with clearing out the attic. How can I think that when I’m busy playing. Snuggles thinks I’m being silly and I feel worried about… something… I’m not sure what… I’m twenty-seven not two, although I am two. I look around and the voices in my head are screaming ‘WAKE UP’ in my twenty-seven year-old voice but look at me… I’m sitting in a diaper and plastic pants, drinking my juice from a bottle and hugging a stuffed animal that is… Snugglebunny wants us to relax and enjoy the sunshine. Mommy is saying something to daddy about my diaper and that she should try and get me potty trained as soon as possible. I just play with Em’s toys and feel… happy. STOP IT, stop it. Stop it. You have work, you have a business to run, you have a wife to get home to… that voice in my head is getting insistent but I snuggle my bunny and all is well. The warm sun, mommy and daddy, Em asleep and my stretching out on the blanket feeling dry and comfortable… why would I want to change anything? ***** SnuggleBunny 2 I was dozing but it was getting warmer and more uncomfortable. I woke up and the sun was streaming through the little arched window in the attic and right into my eyes, it took me a few seconds to remember just where I was. Specks of dust flitted through the rays and appeared to dance, float and perform just for me, I searched around for my parents and my sister but alas, they were no longer with me. I was alone and back searching through mum’s carefully stored items from her life. Because of the memory (dream) I’d just experienced my heart was sad. I’d been united with my family at a time when we were at our happiest and I was sorry to leave it behind. I really did have work to do and I had a wife of my own now. I shrugged my shoulders to myself, things hadn’t been going very well in that area, she wasn’t interested in me anymore and in truth, I couldn’t blame her, I was not the man she married. That fun, carefree spirit she loved had disappeared under the weight of responsibility, not just for her but the firm that I’d built up to support us. I looked back across the attic to the boxes that held a lifetime of memories and was drawn once again to SnuggleBunny. I smiled as I remembered just what this old, stuffed animal had done for me. When I held him, he cheered me up - when I sucked on his ear, he pacified me – when we slept together, he reassured me that the world was safe. I picked him up… **** “OK my little trooper…” it was daddy lifting me onto his shoulders, “hold on tight.” And he galloped with me riding high around the garden. I was giggling and enjoying myself as he ‘jumped’ imaginary hurdles and made noises of horse’s hooves and whinnying. In the background I could hear Emily playing with her favourite toy… a teddy that squeaked. She was sat in the shade and like me, wore only a diaper, it was far too hot to be covered in clothes. Mommy turned on the garden sprinkler and I went off to play in that, jumping in and out of its gentle wafting flow. At certain angles daddy showed me what a rainbow was and I was engrossed in trying to reach and touch it. SnuggleBunny joined me as I skipped over the spray getting a cooling soak but by the time I had grown tired of this little game my diaper was hanging down to my knees. “Oh-Oh,” Mommy said, “we should have taken him out of that first and let him run around naked… oh well, too late now but I think he needs to get out of that sagging thing.” At the back of my mind I knew there was something really important I should be doing… but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what. Something to do with… no… can’t remember. Daddy dried me as I dried Snuggles and pretty soon I was back in a fresh clean diaper that daddy packed me into and pinned tightly to my small frame. That’s it. I’m supposed to be… erm… packing… something to do with… erm… diapers? No… packing… I’m not sure… I made Snuggles a diaper out of a piece of cloth that I’d found next to Em, I suppose she’d been playing around with it at some point but now she was crawling around as mum pulled one of her toys on a string. Mummy found a pin and made sure that Snuggles was as tightly in his diaper as I was. I hugged Snuggles as I followed daddy whilst he did a spot of gardening and telling me the names of the plants, which I thought I already knew. He pointed to a little bush and told me that it had been planted when I was born and that when I was older it would flower and remind me that mommy and daddy and Emily all loved me. He patted my padded bottom and told me how much he loved me now and he always would… Older… that was it… older. I am older. I can’t be here. I’m not a child. I’m not a baby… I’m not… Daddy ruffled my hair, then bent down and pretended to ruffle Snuggles’s hair… although he didn’t have any. “OK sport, time to plant a bush for Emily. Do you want to help?” I nodded and held up Snuggles hoping that this indicated that he’d help as well. “Let’s dig a little hole.” He passed me a small implement and I began to prod the ground in an attempt to make a hole. Dad was very encouraging and… What am I doing? I can’t stay here… I have things to do (although it was becoming less and less clear as to what exactly that might be) I need to be… er… going… coming… digging…? I was sat back on the blanket under the tree throwing Snuggles up into the air and catching him. His expression said he was enjoying this game immensely… and so was I. In fact, I was so happy and comfortable I never wanted to leave the garden. Mommy and daddy seemed so happy, Em was gurgling and smiling so I suppose she was happy and… if I had my way… we would always stay this way. I crawled between daddy’s legs and settled on his lap. “You OK champ?” he said as he blew raspberries against my bellybutton. I squealed with delight until he cuddled me as tightly as I cuddled Snuggles... I never wanted this to end. ******************************************************************************

Hey, I want to make rp about furry who wakes up in strange daycare. What he/she is discovering is that the daycare is slowly regressing him/her. And our character can decide if want to escape from that place or accept its new babyhood and stay there forever. If somebody want to do that just give me sign..

A commission written recently that I very much enjoyed and I hope you all enjoy as well! This first part has been available on my Patreon page for the last eight days and the second (4,500 word) part is posted on there right now. So if you want to continue reading this story immediately you can do so on my Patreon (otherwise you will have to wait a week for the next part): https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 For $5 you can get one week early access to all of my stories (I aim to post a story update once every four days) and for $10 you get the above plus access to a number of stories written exclusively for Patreon subscribers. A huge thank you to everyone who supports me and reads my work but an extra big thanks to: DannyDazzler, John, Diapering Daddy, Lb Iceland, Eric C, Paul E, Kevin H, Mr. Smileypants, Tom H, Sterling W, John S, Ryan, Jens B, Zachary U, Thomas R S, Matthew S, Pierry L, Matthew, John D, Emmanuel S, Henry C, Bob, Michelle G, P, Kent J, Frank S, C Dom, Scott S, James B, Ben F and P74_1986 for their continued support. It means a lot to me --- The Internship By Elfy Katie sipped on her cup of coffee as she opened the newspaper straight to the jobs section. She didn’t care about tensions in the Middle East, she didn’t care about the latest celebrity divorce, she just really wanted a job. She NEEDED a job. Katie sighed as she saw all the usual stuff. Cleaning jobs, construction jobs and everything else that the recent college graduate considered beneath her. It wasn’t that Katie didn’t respect those jobs, but she had just got a college degree and had spent the last couple of months fruitlessly looking for work that put her new qualification to good use. The small, blonde woman shook her head as she looked through the classifieds and felt the familiar feeling of disappointment. Katie really needed to find something soon, her Mom was insisting that if she was going to stay at home that she had to contribute to the household income. Just as Katie was going to give up looking she saw one advert that caught her eye. A small advert in the bottom corner was talking about a very short term contract with a relatively large sum of money upon completion. All it said was that it would last for five days at the most and you had to stay on site. It was something at least, Katie thought, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have some time out of the house and to return with some extra money. The advert gave very little idea as to what the job was for. It just said it was an “Internship” that had the chance to lead to further work. If Katie had been in work, she would have ignored the vague advert but she was desperate enough to give the listed number a call. “No time like the present…” Katie said to herself quietly as she grabbed her phone. Dialling the number, Katie heard the phone ring just a couple of times before being answered by an older man. “Hello?” The man said as he answered. “Hi, my name is Katie.” Katie replied, “I saw an advert about an internship in the newspaper. I’m quite intere-” “Oh! Good, good.” The man interrupted Katie, “Why don’t you come right on down.” “Right now?” Katie asked suddenly feeling rather flustered. “No time like the present!” The man replied eerily echoing what Katie had said before picking up the phone. Katie grabbed a pen and wrote down the address of the place she was to visit, thanked the man on the phone, and started immediately filling a bag with some changes of clothes and other necessities. She scribbled a quick note telling her Mom what was going and that she would call her later and ran out of the front door. Thankfully her car came with built in satellite navigation that she was able to use to guide herself on the half an hour drive across town and out into what felt like the middle of nowhere. She was just thinking that she must have put the wrong address in because there was nothing here but fields when a large warehouse started looming large in the distance. Katie felt a small pang of nervousness as the building got closer and closer. She started running through possible scenarios in her head, answers to questions, reactions to tasks. She really had zero idea what was coming and so didn’t know how to prepare. Turning into the car park, Katie drove slowly across the gravel path and up to the front of the building. She pulled into a spot near what seemed to be the entrance that had a sign for “Guest Parking” in front of it. Katie took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she stepped out into the bright sunshine. She smoothed out her clothes a little bit and got her suitcase out from the backseat. Katie looked around the car park and frowned a little at the fact that there seemed to only be one other car parked up. It looked very expensive and must belong to some executive or something. Katie looked at her shabby old car and kind of wished she had given it a wash at some point. “Where is everyone?” Katie said quietly to herself. It was Monday morning. 10am to be precise, this car park should be full of people working. What kind of internship happened at what seemed to be an empty warehouse in the middle of nowhere? Katie turned to face the building again and felt a slight chill run down her spine. There was something quite eerie and spooky about being at a seemingly abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The warehouse looked well maintained and fairly modern, the grass and flowerbeds outside the entrance even seemed to be well maintained. The building gave the impression of being a modern and busy facility that inexplicably had no one there at this moment. Shaking off the sense of foreboding and remembering how much the pay check was needed, Katie turned to the entrance and started walking towards the glass doors in front of her. She put her hand out to push the door open but just before she touched it she found the door swinging open on its own. Katie stepped into a mostly white lobby area. There was an empty desk against one wall with a large numberless clock behind it. Opposite the desk was a glass table with a collection of magazines on and some large, white leather couches. The lobby was very still and silent. Apart from Katie’s footsteps there wasn’t a single sound in the high ceilinged room. With no one at the desk, Katie walked tentatively over to the couch. She pulled her bag behind her and sat down. Almost exactly as she touched the very comfortable seat there was suddenly a buzzing noise followed by a male voice. Katie jumped at the sudden intrusion into the stillness. “Katie Adams, please come through.” The voice boomed out of speakers that must have been hidden in the walls. Katie jumped back to her feet, quickly rounded the glass table and approached the desk. She had hoped someone would be there, or maybe there would be some instructions for her to follow. She wasn’t really sure where she was supposed to go. “W-Where do I go?” Katie asked. She didn’t know if there were microphones to pick up what she was saying and she spun around looking for a door or something she had previously missed. As soon as Katie finished speaking she heard the sound of a key turning in a lock and some squeaky hinges. Squinting down the long hallway opposite the entrance, Katie could see a door at the end of the hallway swing open slightly. With no other options, Katie started walking towards the door. She assumed that even if it wasn’t where she was supposed to go that there might be someone that she could at least ask what was going on. As Katie walked down the hallway she started wondering whether this was all part of the interview for the job. Maybe this was some kind of test of her initiative or problem solving skills. If that were the case, she hoped she was doing a good job, she didn’t like the idea of being tested without her knowledge but she disliked even more the idea of failing such a test. When Katie reached the slightly ajar door, she carefully peered around it before tentatively pulling it open. The room was rather small with just a table and chair in the middle of the room and a mirror against one of the walls. On the table was a black plastic bag and on top of the bag was a small note, a typed out message addressed to Katie herself. “Good morning, Katie.” Katie read, “To start this process you will need to get dressed in the clothes in the bag. There are no cameras or other recording equipment in this room, your privacy is secure. Please leave your current clothes and any belongings in this room.” Katie was perplexed but she upended the bag and let the clothes inside spill out over the table. As she sorted through the different items she wondered why this was a requirement, there didn’t seem to be anything too outrageous in the bag. A skirt, a white button up shirt, a red and blue striped tie… Katie suddenly realised that what she was looking at was basically a school uniform. Was this some kind of sick joke? Was the person running this place some pervert? Turning to the door she walked through to enter, Katie’s first thought was to just walk out but she almost immediately had second thoughts. Maybe she was over reacting, it was a uniform but it wasn’t necessarily a school uniform. This place was strange, was it that unlikely that they had an unconventional dress code? “This job better be worth it.” Katie muttered to herself and, after glancing all around the room for any obvious signs of a camera, she began undressing in the small and cramped room. She felt very vulnerable when she had removed her clothes and she did not hang around in getting dressed in the new outfit. It all fit her perfectly which she found strange. The skirt was a little short but long enough to not be obscene and the button-up shirt and tie completed the look. Katie looked in the mirror and was rather surprised at what she saw. She really did look so much younger when dressed like this, she was transported back to her own school days as a teenager and had to shake herself a little to remember she was a graduate looking for a job. With no other options, Katie stepped back through the door and out into the hallway. She glanced around at the still deserted building and then stepped out closing the door behind her. As requested, she had left everything she had arrived with in the small room. Just as Katie was wondering where to go next she heard a creaking coming from round the corner. She walked to the end of the corridor and peeked around the corner to see another door hanging slightly open in the otherwise abandoned hallway. Katie was still considering that all of this may be some kind of test so she didn’t wait to be told to move, instead she used her initiative and started walking along to the new room. When she peered into this room she was rather taken aback to see it was laid out like a classic elementary school classroom. “What the hell!?” Katie exclaimed as she slowly walked inside whilst gazing at the strange and unexpected room. After she had taken a few steps inside the pseudo-classroom, Katie suddenly heard a creaking and the door that she had entered through slammed shut. Katie ran back and grabbed the handle to try and wrench the door open but found it stuck fast. It was locked tight and there was no way she would be able to prise it open on her own. Now this was definitely getting weird. “Please sit down.” Came a sudden voice behind Katie causing the girl to spin around. Katie’s mouth flew open as the door at the other end of the room opened and in walked an older woman. Katie squinted, something seemed off with this person, the way they moved it was almost… Mechanical. Katie gasped as what she thought was a person turned to face her. The face was not that of a human but a robot. A shiny metallic front with two piecing red lights where the eyes would be. A speaker was behind lips that didn’t quite move normally and a face that didn’t move an inch. It was the eeriest thing Katie had ever seen. She could hardly believe her own eyes. “Please sit down, Katie.” The robot repeated as it stood in front of the white board at the front of the room. Katie just shook her head slightly and turned back to face the door. She pulled on the door in fear and still it wouldn’t budge. She was scared and just wanted to leave, screw this job! “I said sit!” Katie felt a plastic hand on her shoulder that turned her around. “No!” Katie cried out as she kicked and wriggled trying to free herself. The robot teacher would not be denied and she wrapped her impossibly strong arms around Katie’s waist. Katie was carried to a seemingly random seat in the middle of the room and placed in the chair. She tried to escape but the teacher held her down. “Naughty girl!” The robot chastised Katie who suddenly felt something wrap itself around her ankles. The robot backed away and walked back to the white board. Katie immediately tried to get up again but quickly realised her legs were now restrained against the chair which itself was fastened to the floor. “What are you doing? What’s going on!?” Katie cried out. She could feel tears in her eyes that she tried to blink away. Panic began to set in very quickly. “I’m going to teach you.” The robot replied dispassionately, “Did you bring a pen?” “Wha… No…” Katie said confused, “Wait… Is this a test?” “Didn’t bring your own pen? Are you sure you are in the right classroom? Maybe you would be better off with the younger children.” The robot said as it made the mechanical steps back to Katie’s desk with a bunch of papers in its hand, “And yes. This is a test.” Katie looked down as the teacher-bot placed a large stack of papers on her desk. The top page had the words “Basic Educational Test – Grade 7” in big red letters. A pen was placed next to the stack of paper and the robot turned towards the front of the room again. “You have one hour.” The teacher said as it sat down at the desk. It stared at Katie and never moved. It was spooky in the extreme. Katie was going to ask what she was meant to do but the thought occurred to her again that maybe this was part of whatever internship process she was now going through. Besides, this was a test meant for young teenagers, surely Katie could breeze through it. Since she was trapped in the seat anyway, she picked up the paper and turned to the first page of the test. Katie could feel her heart rate slowing down as she took some deep breaths and she tried to calm her frayed nerves. Katie read through the opening question and furrowed her brow. The question was almost incomprehensible in its complexity. It was some crazily long equation with more letters in it than numbers. Katie had done a degree in English Literature and this math was way out of her league. This was supposed to be a test for young teenagers but these questions looked like they belonged in a post-graduate course. Katie flicked through multiple pages and found that the questions only seemed to get more and more complex. “I… I… Can’t do this.” Katie said as she felt her panic rising again and she looked up at the robot in the corner. The teacher stood up in its mechanical way and picked up some more papers. It walked around the desk and over to Katie’s seat. “Maybe this is more your speed.” The teacher said with a clear condescending tone. The robot picked up the previous test and dropped a new one in front of Katie. The robot walked back to the teacher’s desk and sat down again. Katie shook her head slightly in confusion about everything that was happening. For the first time she really looked around the room. A large window against one wall was allowing sunlight to stream inside and providing a lot of natural light. Outside the window was just empty and flat desert, no sign of anything other than a few small plants. The interior of the classroom was just like a school that Katie would have attended years ago. As she shifted in her seat she was reminded of the restraints holding her ankles to the chair, that was the one obvious difference between this classroom and the ones Katie remembered… That, and the robotic teacher of course. Katie turned over the first page of this new test and was almost insulted by what she saw. Instead of the advanced calculus and algebra, now it was simple sums that any small child would be expected to know. “What’s going on here?” Katie asked, “If this is some kind of test for the job… I can’t do really complex math but I can do better than this.” “No talking during the test, little girl!” The robot teacher said with a slightly angered tone, “You have been nothing but trouble since you arrived.” “But…” Katie felt victimised. She had no idea what was going on and was still just trying to keep herself together. “Shh!” The robot teacher said causing Katie to close her mouth. Katie wiped a tear from her eye and sniffed but did as she was told. She picked up her pen and meekly started answering the questions. She tried to distract her distressed brain by doing the sums on the paper. It’s amazing how when you are feeling so overwhelmed, doing something so simple can just consume your mind. The sums weren’t hard but they were extremely boring. Time ticked by at a snail’s pace and Katie found herself almost drifting off. For an hour Katie found herself torn between sleepiness, confusion and embarrassment about what she was made to do. She cursed her own timidity that stopped her from resisting harder. She still thought this could all be some kind of test about pressure situations or something and she was doing her best to stay composed. “Time’s up.” The robot said rather suddenly causing Katie to jump. Katie had been almost asleep when the robot suddenly spoke up and she quickly put her pen down. She closed up the papers and watched as the teacher walked over to pick them up. She hoped that maybe now she would get some answers but the teacher just took her test papers and turned around again. “Is that it?” Katie asked tentatively. “That is the end of the test.” The robotic teacher said as she placed the test papers on her desks. So Katie was right! This had all been a test. Katie smiled to herself, she was glad she had stuck it out and maintained her composure for the most part. She sat and waited for the leg restraints to undo. She expected some man in a suit would come through the door and explain everything to her, maybe shake her hand and let her know how she did. It really was a very strange way of testing potential applicants though; it must be a European method or something. “So… Can I go?” Katie asked when nothing had happened for a minute. “No.” The teacher stated simply. “Ugh… Can I use the phone then?” Katie asked as she slumped in her seat slightly. She was telling herself not to get angry, “So I can let my Mom know I’m OK.” “No.” The robot replied. “Why not?” Katie asked as her irritation started rising. “You were informed that the process is around five days long.” The robotic teacher said, “No contact with the outside world is permitted during the process.” “What is this?” Katie muttered, “A prison?” The door at the front of the classroom opened and the leg restraints withdrew. The teacher stared at Katie with her unblinking face and raised her arm as if to show her the door. “It is lunch time.” It said dispassionately, “This way please.” Katie stood up and walked reluctantly forwards. The door she had entered through was still shut and sealed so she walked to the front of the room and slowly walked out of the door in trepidation. She could hear the mechanical footsteps of the robot behind her. The corridor only had one door at the end of it so Katie made her way forwards and towards it. Katie just couldn’t get over how truly surreal all of this was. Where was everyone else that must normally work here? Why did it seem set up for so many people when there was only one person here? What was all this for? There were just so many questions that Katie could hardly believe this wasn’t all a dream. The fact she was told she wasn’t allowed contact with anyone made her really concerned though. Pushing open the door, Katie found herself walking into a fairly large cafeteria. There was a bunch of long tables with chairs to the sides of them. A red rope showed where the queue was supposed to be and with the robo-teacher breathing down her neck she followed the rope, grabbed a tray and walked up to the counter. Behind the counter were more robots, almost exactly identical versions of the one that had been trying to teach her and she shuddered as she looked around at them all staring at her. Tentatively, Katie held out her tray to the canteen machines. The machine closest too her took the tray and shovelled a large ladleful of a strangely lumpy mush on to a plate that was then placed on the tray. The tray was passed down the line of the robots who contributed a small amount of vegetables and a couple of slices of bread to the tray. The last machine added a small apple juice box with a straw on the side. Katie took the tray back and looked down at it with a mixture of disgust and revulsion. The food looked anything but appetising, she wasn’t even sure what the lumpy mush was supposed to be. Katie looked around at all the empty seats in the room before taking one at random and sitting down with her tray in front of her. She poked the creamy mush with her plastic fork and tried to imagine it was something a lot more appetising. It wasn’t easy to do. Katie looked to the side of her and saw all the canteen robots were staring at her. The one that had been with her in the classroom was standing a little way behind her. The way they stared at her made Katie extremely uncomfortable. As Katie considered the food in front of her and thought about not being allowed to make contact with people outside the facility she felt a deep sense of foreboding. This was not a good situation, the idea of this being a test was increasingly disappearing and being replaced with the idea that this was some kind of sick experiment. Acting on impulse, Katie stood up. The chair she was sitting on pushed behind her slightly as she looked around at the sinister faces that were staring straight back at her. “Please sit down, Katie.” The robot closest to her said. It took a menacing step forwards. “To hell with you!” Katie shouted. Picking up the chair she had been sat on, Katie threw it as hard as her small body frame would allow at the machine. The chair hit it square in the chest and bounced off, it staggered backwards slightly but didn’t fall. “You are being unruly.” The robot said without a hint of emotion. Katie looked around at the machines around her and realised that taking down one of these things would be very difficult, taking down all of them would be nearly impossible. The robots were advancing on her slowly. It was clear they wanted to quell the threat and they were slowly trying to surround the young woman. Looking around the room, the only exit that Katie could see was the one she had come through in the first place. She took off towards it, running hard and fast she wanted to find an exit and wanted to find it now. To hell with the money, there was something really weird about this place and Katie needed to leave. The only door Katie could find was the one that lead to the horrid classroom. Remembering the door at the back of that room that went to the lobby, Katie hesitated for a second and then shoved the door open. “What the…” Katie began running through the classroom but slowed and stopped in the middle of the room. Katie knew that she had come back to the same room as before, there were no other doors to go through after all. So why was this room so different to the classroom from the morning?