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

Chapter 1 Abby stumbled through the dense woods, following a faint trail that led her to a dilapidated house. Its wooden shutters hung loosely on rusted hinges, its roof sagging and covered in green moss. She hesitantly stepped closer, her eyes scanning the peeling paint and broken windows. Despite its appearance, the house seemed to call out to her, a glimmer of hope in the dark forest. “God what am I doing out here I know this is on the far end of the property, but I have no idea why it’s even here, it wasn’t even listed on the land plot, and I can’t find any record of this place.” Abby thought out loud. Abby's heart raced as she approached the weathered porch, its boards creaking beneath her feet. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her, its gaze piercing through the shadows of the surrounding trees. Her small frame shivered, not from the cool forest air, but from a sense of unease that crept along her spine. She reached for the tarnished doorknob, her hand trembling. As her fingers brushed against the cold metal, a whisper seemed to float on the breeze, incomprehensible yet somehow familiar. Abby froze, straining her ears to catch the sound again, but only silence greeted her. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, trying to steady her nerves. "It's just an old house. There's nothing to be afraid of." But as she turned the knob, a soft click echoing through the stillness The door swung open with a haunting creak, revealing a musty interior shrouded in shadows. Abby hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the grimy windows. Dust motes danced in the air, stirred by her entrance, and the floorboards groaned beneath her feet. She moved cautiously through the front room, her gaze sweeping over faded wallpaper and tattered furniture. An ornate mirror hung crookedly on one wall, its silver surface tarnished and clouded with age. Abby caught a glimpse of her reflection, her thin face pale and eyes wide with apprehension. As she explored further, she discovered a narrow staircase leading to the upper floor. Each step seemed to whisper secrets as she ascended, her hand trailing along the weathered banister. The upper landing stretched before her. She comes to the top and notices a bright pink door on one side of the room, she slowly walks over to it her Curiosity overwhelming her. Abby approached the bright pink door, its vibrant hue a stark contrast to the rest of the house's muted decay. Her hand hovered over the tarnished brass knob, hesitating for a moment before grasping it firmly. With a deep breath, she turned the handle and pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak that echoed through the empty hallway. As the door swung wide, Abby's eyes widened in surprise. Before her lay a nursery, frozen in time like a faded photograph. Soft, muted light filtered through a dusty window, casting long shadows across the room. The walls, once a cheerful yellow, were now peeling and stained with age. Faded circus animals danced along a tattered border, their painted smiles eerie in the dim light. In the corner stood a white wooden crib, its paint chipped and flaking and falling off to the other side an old toy chest seemingly filled with toys and the like. She looks around but can’t find anything she would want in here, so she slowly backs out of the room and leaves the door behind her letting the room be lost to time forever. “Ok enough of that this is already creepy enough I don’t wanna be in here any long time to gtfo.” She hurries as fast as she can down the stairs and to the main room, she does one more look around before she heads out the front door closing it behind her. She stops quickly and looks around, everything around her looks different and flat. She remembers there being woods everywhere but now it’s all flat land, she quickly turns around to grab the doorknob and the door and house are gone, she’s all alone in the middle of nowhere and has no idea where she is at. Abby's heart pounded in her chest as she spun around, her eyes desperately scanning the barren landscape. Where once stood a dense forest now stretched an endless expanse of featureless, sunbaked earth. The sudden transformation of her surroundings sent her mind reeling, unable to process the impossible change. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she stumbled forward, her legs weak and unsteady. The air felt thick and oppressive, pressing down on her like a physical weight. The sky above her, once a patchwork of leaves and branches, now loomed vast and empty, a pale, sickly yellow that seemed to pulse and writhe. Panic clawed at her throat as she tried to call out for help, but her voice emerged as little more than a strangled whimper. The silence that enveloped her was absolute, broken only by the sound of her heart. As Abby's initial panic began to subside, her racing thoughts slowly coalesced into a singular, urgent realization: she needed to find shelter. The oppressive heat of the barren landscape beat down upon her, and she could feel her skin beginning to prickle with the first signs of sunburn. With no landmarks to guide her, she made an arbitrary decision to head east, hoping that direction might lead her to salvation. She set off across the desolate plain, her feet sinking slightly into the parched earth with each step. The horizon shimmered in the distance, a mirage-like wavering that made it impossible to discern where the land ended, and the sky began. As she walked, Abby noticed strange plants and trees after a while, and she saw birds bigger than she could ever believe. “What the hell is going on? Why are the birds so freaking huge?!?! And holy shit! Is that a squirrel it’s massive.” Abby ventured deeper into the bizarre landscape; her senses overwhelmed by the strange sights surrounding her. The trees towered impossibly high, their trunks as wide as houses and their leaves the size of cars. Vines as thick as her arm snaked across the forest floor, their tendrils reaching out as if trying to grasp her ankles. As she pushed through the dense undergrowth, a rustling sound caught her attention. She froze, her eyes widening as a rabbit the size of a medium sized dog hopped into view. Its long ears twitched, each one nearly as tall as Abby herself. The creature's nose quivered as it sniffed the air, its whiskers swaying like thick ropes. Abby held her breath, afraid to move. The giant rabbit's eyes, each as big as her fist, locked onto her for a moment before it bounded away. Abby breathed a sigh of relief and kept on walking her journey long and hard before she finally found a small cave underneath a large tree that she could stop and rest in. She looked down at herself, happy she had worn sweatpants and a shirt with a hoodie over it, thinking it was one of the smartest ideas she had ever had now. She pulled her knees close to her and pulled the hoodie over them to try and keep as warm as possible knowing it was getting dark and would soon cool off, she just hoped she could survive the night at this point As night fell, the alien forest came alive with a symphony of unfamiliar sounds. Eerie whistles and low, rumbling calls echoed through the darkness, punctuated by the occasional rustle of massive leaves. Abby huddled deeper into her makeshift shelter, her body trembling from a mixture of cold and fear. Eventually, exhaustion overcame her anxiety, and she drifted into a fitful sleep. When dawn broke, shafts of golden light filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Abby stirred, her eyes fluttering open to a world transformed by the morning sun. She attempted to stretch but winced as pain shot through her body. Every muscle ached, a testament to her arduous journey the day before and her uncomfortable sleeping position. Despite the discomfort, a wave of relief washed over her. She had survived the night and was alive. Abby slowly rose to her feet, her joints creaking in protest. She stepped out of the cave, blinking in the dazzling morning light. The forest around her seemed even more vibrant and otherworldly in the golden glow of dawn. Massive flowers, their petals as large as dinner plates, unfurled to greet the sun. Dew droplets the size of marbles clung to blades of grass that towered over her head. Determined to find water, Abby set off through the undergrowth. She pushed aside ferns with leaves broader than her entire body, their delicate fronds tickling her face as she passed. The air was thick with the heady scent of unknown blossoms and rich, loamy earth. As she walked, Abby noticed strange, iridescent insects flitting between the enormous plants. Their wings shimmered with colors she had never seen before in her life. After walking for hours Abby could hear water in the distance and grew excited, she started running at full speed, reaching a small stream she got down on her knees and started drinking the water by the handful. “Well, that’s water solved but I’m starving and need to find something to eat soon or I’m going to have more than one problem.” Abby took off her clothes and got in the water for a small swim and to pee, knowing it would just go downstream she knew that she had to head that way after she was done. Refreshed by her swim, Abby reluctantly climbed out of the cool stream. She wrung out her long hair and slipped back into her clothes, grateful for their familiar comfort in this strange world. As she laced up her shoes, she took a moment to marvel at the scene around her. The stream gurgled merrily over rocks the size of cars, creating miniature waterfalls that sparkled in the dappled sunlight. Dragonflies as large as small birds darted above the water's surface, their gossamer wings refracting the light into prismatic rainbows. With a deep breath, Abby began her journey downstream. The riverbank was a riot of color and texture. Moss as soft as velvet carpeted the ground, interspersed with mushrooms that stood taller than she did. Their caps were mottled with swirling patterns that seemed to shift and change as she stepped. Abby set off downstream, her steps more purposeful now that she had a direction to follow. As she walked, the landscape gradually shifted. The dense, jungle-like foliage gave way to more open terrain, with rolling hills covered in grass that shimmered like spun silver in the breeze. Massive flowers dotted the landscape, their petals a riot of colors she had never seen before - deep purples that seemed to glow from within, blues so vivid they hurt her eyes, and reds that pulsed like living flame. Strange creatures scurried through the grass, some resembling oversized rodents with iridescent fur, others more like insects with too many legs and eyes that glowed like tiny stars. In the sky, creatures that looked like a cross between birds and bats soared on leathery wings, their necks twisting as they called to each other in haunting, musical tones calls echoing across the vast expanse. As Abby crested a particularly steep hill, her breath caught in her throat. There, on the distant horizon, rose a sight that defied belief. A colossal city sprawled across the landscape, its spires and towers reaching impossibly high into the sky. The structures seemed to be made of a material that shimmered and shifted like liquid metal, their surfaces reflecting the light in dazzling arrays of color. Massive bridges spanned between the towering edifices, their graceful arches adorned with intricate patterns that appeared to move and dance as she watched. At the heart of the city stood a central tower that dwarfed all others, its peak disappearing into the clouds above. Pulsing beams of light in every hue imaginable shot from its apex, creating a mesmerizing lightshow that painted the sky. Abby was shocked, she knew at heart she was no longer on Earth anymore, she just had no idea where she was.

Hello again, and welcome to the final episode in Mike’s inevitable slide into babyhood. This one follows on from the events outlined in At Miss Katie’s House and Later at Miss Katie’s House. I did go back and make some edits to both of those stories so that they fit with what transpired as I wrote this one. I think this story is my longest yet, which seems like a fitting tribute to Mike and everything he’s been through with the women in his life. I originally wrote this one in past tense, but then decided present fit better with the ending. Fair warning - you might still find a few discrepancies which I’ll get around to fixing later. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! As always, all characters are 18+. Mike and Katie Together I haven’t been back on the couch long, when Katie returns to the living room, looking clean and fresh-faced, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She looks magnificent actually. Motherhood suits her in all the best ways. She leans over me with a soft smile. “You did so good waiting quietly for me, sweetie! What a good boy! Shall we check your diaper and then have a snack?” I’m immediately reminded of how good Katie always smells. Sort of like a warm kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning. That’s not quite right, but it’s a pretty close approximation of the sense of familiar comfort it brings whenever I’m close to her. She’s always so gentle and soft, too… I shake my head a little. There’s no time for these little trips down memory lane. Most of them lead straight to babyland anyway. Right now, I’ve got to focus on staying with it, here, in the present, in my adult mind. And I can’t do that without Katie‘s help: “Katie wait! Hold up a second…I’m Mike…It’s me! I’m back. I mean - the real me - this Mike - the Mike from before! I’m back.” I’m not sure that makes any sense, but it’s obvious at least that my diction and tone has gotten through to her. She freezes for a moment in shock, and then pulls me into a giant hug, peppering my head with kisses, smothering me in her warmth. A torrent of questions follows: When did I snap back? How long has it been? Am I feeling OK? What else can I remember?… I do my best to answer her questions with the limited information I have on hand. Unfortunately, I learned a long time ago that toddler Mike doesn’t take great notes, which is also why I have important questions of my own. Chief among them: WHEN is now? And for how long have I been a functional toddler? It doesn’t take long before the most pressing questions are asked and answered, and we find ourselves in a pause, both appraising the other. Her eyes flit to the bulge in my crotch, and I’m suddenly reminded of the soggy diaper around my waist. “I guess I should probably get out of this thing before too much longer” I say, while starting for the bathroom I passed earlier. Katie’s hand shoots out and stops me: “Mike, hold on a second. Um…I know this sounds crazy, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. You’ve been in diapers 24/7 for almost 6 months now. You’ve almost certainly lost some control. How about we leave it on for a little while - just until we have a better sense of where you’re at in terms of potty…toilet training? Could you do that for me?” I notice she’s slipped briefly back into her ‘preschool teacher’ tone, but I choose to ignore it. Old habits die hard, after all. But I can’t just go along with this either. My mental state is fragile right now. What if staying in a diaper pushes me back over the edge? “Katie I’m fine. I’m back. I’m not gonna piss myself. I promise! Please don’t make me wear it!” I’m doing my best to sound confident, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind that says maybe shouldn’t be so sure. My bladder feels oddly disconnected from my body. Like I’m not quite certain what’s going on with it. I guess I’m just not used to checking in with those nerves and muscles anymore. Of course, I also should’ve known that Katie had heard those lines probably 1000 times before at work, and she was ready for them. “Well, then maybe you can show me. Do you need to go potty right now? Sorry - I mean - do you need the toilet, Mike?” “No….I don’t think so,” I reply. I’m immediately aware of my mistake. A smile tugs at Katie’s lips as she once again deploys her ‘I’m in charge’ voice: “Well if you’re not sure, then let’s wait to take it off until you are. I promise I won’t think any less of you until then. In the meantime, why don’t you sit back down and we can figure out what to do next?” She pats the couch cushion beside her invitingly, and for some reason, I comply. I guess I could’ve asked to at least change into a dry diaper, but I don’t really have a playbook for this situation (and in truth - it just didn’t occur to me). We sit sideways facing one another - her on the end, me on the middle cushion, our knees touching. I’m not quite sure where to go from here, and so I’m very happy when she takes the lead in the conversation. It’s just so nice being this close to her again. Katie starts with more questions about what I remember from the last six months. I answer as best I can. Her expression is sympathetic and caring, and I find myself going into detail about feelings and emotions that I would normally keep to myself. I guess it’s not surprising that I feel comfortable sharing intimate details with a woman who has both ridden me bareback and wiped my bottom. She deftly steers the conversation away from our brief affair (wait - how did we get on that topic?) and towards this weekend and what might have triggered this latest awakening: “I have to tell you I was pretty surprised at how much you seemed to have regressed since I last saw you. I mean, I knew you had slipped based on what I heard from Miss Rachel at Sunny Hills (she says you are adorable by the way), but when Sandra dropped you off, I almost didn’t recognize you! If I had to guess, based on your speech and behavior, I’d say you had regressed to no more than two years old. You were a toddler in every way - except size of course!” I blush at this statement - thinking of how I must’ve appeared to her in that vulnerable state. How had I let myself go that far? Her expression softens as she senses my discomfort. She reaches forward and puts her hand reassuringly on my thigh. ”Oh Mike you don’t need to feel embarrassed about that! You couldn’t help it, could you?” She looks at me expectantly, until I shake my head ‘No’. “No - you couldn’t - any more than Cassie can. Do you remember meeting her last night? Helping me get her ready for bed? Well she’s asleep now, but you can meet her properly later. She’s much younger than you, just a tiny baby but…” I cut her off. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t know how much time I might have left. I’ve already been lost in conversation with her for what…an hour? If I don’t speak my piece now, I might never get another chance. “Katie, hold up a second please. I need you to know some things. And I don’t know how much longer I have, so please just listen: I don’t like this. I never wanted this. At least not like this. I mean, I know I signed on the dotted line for the regression therapy, but Sandra never told me she was going to take it this far. And I didn’t think it could go this far. I thought I’d just feel like a teenager again or something, and that maybe it would help my depression. Plus, it was a great reason to quit my horrible job. “If I had known I’d be drooling down my shirt and pissing and shitting myself in front of people like you, I’d have never signed on to it. I want it to stop. I need to be ME again! “And that’s why I need you to know how I really feel. Because you can help me even when i’m no longer able to. Talk to Sandra! Go to the center and tell them I want to stop if she won’t listen. There’s got to be some kind of clause for if I change my mind, right? They can’t just take me against my will can they? “Please, Katie - I don’t have anyone else I can trust. The truth is, I’m scared. It’s so hard feeling like I’m losing control of who I am, or of what I am, and I just want someone to help me and there’s no one except you, and I’m so confused and alone and it’s all become such a big mess that sometimes I just feel like…” It was Katie’s turn to cut me off now. She pulled me into her for a hug, holding my head to her chest and shushing me gently: “Oh Mike, sweetheart, don’t get so upset. Everything‘s gonna be OK I promise. No matter what happens, I’ll always care about you and I’ll always be here for you. You don’t need to worry about that. You’re safe here. We can get through this together!” This wasn’t the response I was expecting or looking for. Had she listened to anything I just said? “Katie - I’m telling you I’m worried that I’ll never come back to my adult self! And I’m asking you to step in if that happens. Geez! This is like life or death in that way! Can’t you see that?! Are you actually listening to anything I’m saying? “Everyone’s acting like it’s no big deal that grown-ass adults like me are turning into drooling imbeciles - and I know I effectively signed my life away voluntarily - but the fine print turns out to be a real bitch! I want to get OFF this crazy train, and I’m begging you to help me do it!” Katie recoils a little bit at my tone. She stares at me for a moment with an expression I don’t quite like, before composing herself for a reply. The preschool teacher tone is back now in a major way: “Mike, please use your quiet time voice. Cassie is still sleeping. I know that you are upset and scared, but it’s not appropriate for you to take your frustrations out on me. In fact, you’re behaving rather childishly about this situation, which probably isn’t a great idea in your condition, is it?” Again, she waits for me to shake my head ‘no’ before continuing. “I’ll give you a pass this time because you’re not used to processing adult emotions. And I do understand that this is scary for you, sweetheart. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your position…except, well, actually I can, because I care for children your “age” all day long. In fact, when I think about it, my experience caring for you and watching your transition makes me more sympathetic in some ways than others might be. We’ve been through a lot together. You’re not alone in this. And I’m still gonna be here for you no matter what. That’s what I meant, and I’m sorry if it didn’t come across that way. “I’d love to be able to tell you that this time might be different. Or that I can fix it. But I’m not an expert in this, and I don’t really know if that’s how it works. I’m pretty sure that Sandra has full custody of you now. I don’t think there’s much I can do in terms of making decisions for you or communicating your wishes to the Regression Center, except if I go through her. “Anyway, from what I understand, the best thing you can do is to learn to recognize triggers and to develop strategies to overcome them so that you don’t zone out whenever you encounter them. It does seem like you are clearer headed now compared to other times you’ve been back, so maybe we could work on that trigger resistance together - if you think you’re up to it? When I don’t answer right away, she starts up again, this time using the soft and gentle tone from before. “Mike, I need to ask you something. You don’t have to give me an answer, but I think it’s important to ask, so here goes: I’m not sure what you just said to me is entirely true. Specifically, I’m wondering if maybe there’s a part of you that likes to be treated like a baby? Again, it’s OK if you don’t want to answer. I’m just trying to figure out how to help you here. “It’s just that, I’ve noticed some things over the time I’ve known you. For instance ,how you act around women you are attracted to. You seem to crave the motherly or nurturing side of their attention. And that has only become more apparent to me as you have regressed. “Or like just a little while ago, the way you were looking at me when I was feeding Cassie. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous. Am I getting close to the actual truth here?” I was aware I was blushing bright red again. I hadn’t expected this line of questioning. The truth was, the subby side of me did crave the sorts of gentle nurturing praise or even scolding that came with babyish behavior. And I was definitely attracted to women with strong nurturing instincts. But I had never admitted that to anyone - until now. I found myself nodding ever so slightly. “Mmhmmm. I thought so. Can you tell me more about what that means? Do you maybe like wearing diapers?” I squirmed involuntarily at this question, even as it sent a delicious electric shiver up my spine and seemingly straight into my brain. “I think I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” she said good-naturedly. I felt the need to speak up here - I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of diaper freak: “I don’t like them all the time - that’s part of what I meant by “not like this” in reference to my situation. But there’s just something so comforting about being taken care of in that way. I don’t know why I like it…I just…it’s just…” “OK.” She says, saving me from my awkward stammer. “I think I actually do know why. But I have another question for you first: do you like diapers more for how they feel, or for what they represent?” I’m contemplating the answer to this, (or rather contemplating how to bring myself to give the correct answer) when she offers to answer for me: “Do you know what I think? I think you like wearing diapers because of what they represent. They really are the ultimate symbol of babyhood aren’t they? Of freedom from even the most basic responsibility. After all, big boys don’t wear diapers do they? No. Because big boys don’t go pee pee or poo poo in their pants do they? Only babies do that - and thats why their mommies and babysitters put them in soft, fluffy diapers, isn’t it?” I nod my head in response to this last statement (maybe a little too enthusiastically), but Katie doesn’t mind. In fact, she chuckles good naturedly and brushes my cheek with her hand. “I thought so. I think you like that feeling of being cared for and loved in that way. With no judgement. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing. “And I think maybe there’s also something there about other mommies or caregivers knowing you’re in diapers and treating you accordingly. Is that right, Mike? Like maybe it’s a little bit embarrassing, but kind of in a good way? Hmmm? To be treated the same as all the other kiddos in diapers? To have decisions made for you about your needs and level of competence based purely on the site of a pastel liner peeking out from the back of your pants, or the telltale square-ish bum shape of a freshly changed diaper? It’s always been a great look on you, sweetheart! Katie accentuates this last point with a gentle laugh, which seems to echo in my head, but not in an unpleasant way. I’m blushing intensely now, even though I’m managing to maintain eye contact. I feel myself twitch a little bit inside my diaper. Katie has managed to hit the nail on the head in terms of my most secret and deeply hidden reasons for signing on to the regression program. “Mike there’s nothing wrong with feeling thiat way. I could tell when I first met you that you just wanted to be mothered. I found it kind of attractive actually. And I know the other workers at Sunny Hills feel the same way. Early education tends to attract that soft, nurturing personality. I guess thats’s your type huh?” “I gotta say though, I never understood why you were with Sandra in that respect. She just doesn’t seem the type. I mean, you guys haven’t had kids yet and you’ve been together what…10 years? She doesn’t seem like she’d be very nice about your potty accidents either. Like does she spank you when you wet your pants? Did she make you stand in the corner in your dirty undies?” Her hand absentmindedly brushes her breast as she says this, which sends another electric shiver up my spine. It leaves a faint ringing in my ears. Katie doesn’t wait for an answer to these last questions. Instead, she turns now to the beginning of our relationship and what attracted me to her in the first place, connecting the dots to my recently confessed desires and what transpired between us: “I dont think Sandra was ever capable of giving you what you really needed in terms of your desires to be dominated and cared for in such gentle and fundamentally intimate ways. But I picked up on it almost immediately - even if I didn’t quite know all of the gory details” (she leans forward and softly pets the front of my diaper to emphasize this point). The ringing in my ears grows louder. “I used to love sending you subtle cues, like teasing you about spilling your drink, or calling you a good boy, or even little mothering gestures like fixing your collar without asking for permission. I knew you loved it too. It was so exhilarating having that much control over an older guy! You were always so shy and flustered around me. Like a little boy caught peaking at something he shouldn’t be. “In fact, nothing really changed once you started the regression program did it? Except you were less able to hide your feelings and needs. You would always get so squirmy whenever I checked your pants! I think you liked it. And that’s OK, because we just talked about what those things represent didn’t we? “Of course, I’m also aware that eventually you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. But at first, I think you sort of helped propel yourself along through this process - creating your own triggers as it were. Deliberately engaging in babyish behaviors so that I would take notice and treat you accordingly. It was like you were still flirting with me - just in your own unique and special ways. Does that make sense?” I nod my head again. This does make so much sense! It’s like I’m having a private conversation with my ego. Katie seems to be one step ahead of my deepest desires and secrets. Things I’m not even ready to admit to myself. “Well now I have something to confess to you. My desire to nurture you, and even to gently humiliate you, didn’t go away when you started the regression treatment - even if the motives and feelings behind them changed. “In fact, I have to admit that sometimes I’d find ways to put you in situations where I could treat you like a baby, or push you into positions of greater dependency on me. There were more than a few times - in the early days especially - when you were showing very obvious signs of needing the toilet, and I just didn’t remind you or take you, because I wanted an opportunity to get to lay you down and tug your pants off again. “Sorry, I guess it’s my turn to sound weird! I know it’s very different circumstances, but something about changing you just lights me up me on an emotional level. It’s not sexual at all - it’s more about my own desire as a woman to be loved and needed. I think it was the way your eyes would go all soft and gooey as you looked up at me from that position of complete trust and vulnerability - it melted my heart. Every girl wants to be looked at that way. That feeling is way better than anything we could ever do in the bedroom. In fact, it’s what I’ve always craved from you. I never quite got there with adult Mike.” Now it was her turn to have flushed cheeks. She brushed the side of her breast again absentmindedly. “Anyway, I don’t think we should talk anything more about that. Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly surprised when I saw you silhouetted in the doorway, looking longingly at me as I nursed Cassie. “Were you maybe imagining that I was doing that for you? Hmmm? it’s OK. You can tell me.” I nod again. The ringing in my ears growing even louder. My diaper feels tighter. I’m suddenly aware that she’s been lightly caressing my upper thigh with her right hand. “That’s kind of taboo for a big boy, you know,” she says with another little laugh. But then again, you never could keep your eyes off my tits could you?” I can’t help shaking my head “no” in reply, which prompts yet another soft laugh from Katie. “It’s OK, baby, you can look. Do you like how much bigger they’ve gotten? I know I do!” She strokes her left breast more deliberately now with her free hand. Meanwhile, her right hand has found its way to the front of my diaper. I’m finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything other than the site of her nipples poking through her thin tee shirt. It feels like there are fireworks going off in my head now. “I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but my milk is off-limits for you. It’s only for little babies. And you’re definitely a big boy, right?” She gently cups my chin as she asks this, raising my head and forcing me to look away from her breasts. Her gaze feels more serious than playful now. It’s almost like she’s assessing me. And as weird and contradictory as it sounds, in that moment, I was strongly tempted to tell her that she was mistaken. That I actually was a baby. That I was qualified to take her breast. To nurse from her. To risk everything for a chance to give myself over to her in that way. Katie wasn’t letting up either. “Are you curious about what my milk tastes like sweetie? Do you wonder what it would feel like to climb into my arms in your jammies and soggy diaper and have me guide you to my nipple?” I don’t reply, but there’s another involuntary twitch in my diaper that I’m sure she can feel, even through the soggy padding. “Mmmmhmmm. I thought so. But those don’t sound like things a big boy would wonder about, do they? “No they don’t. A big boy would be wondering whether I’m about to take his diaper off and straddle him right here on the couch. In fact, most big boys would have jumped on top of me already, given the obvious cues I’m sending. I’m literally stroking your dick right now, darling, and you’re just sitting there with a dopey look on your face. If you were a big boy, you’d be about to have another big, sticky accident in your soggy pants. “But you don’t work that way, do you? You don’t want those things. Or at least not as much as you want other things. Things that I’m still willing to give you…as long as you ask in the right ways..” In all honesty I wasn’t sure what I wanted at that point, or what I was even into. It felt like forever since I’d done anything sexual with a woman. But it also felt impossible to find the line between my babyish needs and my adult desires. Katie stepped on the gas now: “I have an idea. Maybe if I show them to you, it will help you decide. “Or…we could think of this like a trigger test: If you can resist my boobies without your brain turning back into baby mush, then maybe you’ll be able to resist other triggers? What do you think, sweetie? Should I pull up my top and show you my boobies? Is it worth the risk?” I was wild with lust and desire at this notion. I nodded an enthusiastic “yes” with almost no hesitation, licking my lips in anticipation. Katie smiles at me seductively, and then slowly raises her T-shirt until both of her breasts drop out below. They are absolutely magnificent. She is a mother goddess. She reaches up and gives the left one a gentle squeeze, and a single drop of milk appears, glistening and rolling down the end of the nipple. I sit there gaping - absolutely mesmerized - for I don’t know how long. I feel paralyzed with awe and reverence. But also still very much in my adult mind. I have passed the test! I smile up at her and say, (perhaps a little too loudly), “I’m still a big boy Katie!” “I can see that” she says in a syrupy tone, while beginning to caress her breasts more deliberately. “Such a clever boy! You passed that one with flying colors didn’t you? “I think you might be ready for another, harder test! What do you think? Would you like to try, baby?” Again, I nod my head “yes” enthusiastically. OK - such a brave boy! Get ready! Here we go: Do you need to go potty yet?” Such an easy question, at least under normal circumstances, but right now I’m still unsure. There is a vague sense of discomfort from somewhere below my belly button, but I couldn’t tell you if it was just my dick still trying to make room in the confines of the diaper, or the actual need to go. I tell her a bit sheepishly that I still don’t know, which prompts another gentle laugh. “Awwww sweetie, that’s OK. That doesn’t mean you failed the test. After all, you’ve been spending a lot of time lately not worrying about the answer to that question. And now that you’re in Miss Rachel‘s classroom, it’s probably even more difficult. None of your peers are setting a good example for you to follow in the potty department anymore are they, baby? “Anyways - the good news for you (my good little boy), is that I know a way you can find out and still pass! Do you want to try it with me? “Good! It’s sooo simple even a baby can do it! All you have to do is give a little push! Can you do that for me? Do you remember what that feels like?” I realize that l’ve already begun pushing before she’s finished her last question. My face is now red for different reasons, but still, nothing happens. Not even a trickle. An overwhelming sense of disappointment washes over me. Have I failed? “Silly goose’” exclaims Katie, “you’ve got to get in the right position first before you start pushing, otherwise it’s not gonna work! Go ahead and stand up for me, sweetie. There’s a good boy. Now, I’ll hold onto your hands and you can try again. Go on! Push for me, baby!” Without thinking more about it, I let her take my hands. Katie smiles at me encouragingly as I push harder and deeper than before, bending my legs just a little bit this time. She’s right - this is a much better position for this kind of activity! I feel a rippling sensation from my abdomen, followed by a pleasant shiver up my spine, and then I’m full on pooping in my pants. There’s no trying to hold it back. This isn’t an ‘accident.’ I’m just having my usual morning bowel movement while standing next to the couch in Katie’s living room. I push again, this time for longer, and I’m rewarded with a delightful warm fullness around my bottom. Another pleasant shiver snakes up my spine, prompting a little wiggle from my behind and a generous gush of urine from my front. And then, just like that, the deed is done. The whole episode lasted maybe 10 seconds, although it seemed much longer. I’m left feeling dazed and more than a little unsure about the outcome or its meaning. Is this a pass or a fail? I take a moment to check in with myself. Yes - I’m still here. Still me. But is pooping my pants really proof of anything positive in that respect? The idea seemed to make perfect sense just a minute ago - but now I’m not so sure. I realize that Katie has kept hold of my hands this whole time. Her breasts are also still hanging free under her bunched up shirt, which threatens to distract me from my self-assessment. Without asking permission, she spins me around and pulls back the waistband of my diaper to peek inside: “Oh, sweetie,” she whispers in my ear, “You made a big poopy in your diaper! I think we found the answer to the question about whether or not you had to go potty, didn’t we?” She reaches down and gives my bottom a firm squish for emphasis, her bare breasts pressing into my back. “How do you feel sweetheart? Can you still recite your ABCs?” she asks playfully. “I guess it’s a good thing I made you keep that diaper on, huh? Miss Katie is so clever sometimes!” This last question wasn’t quite fair, but I chose to let it go. Her nonchalant attitude is putting me more at ease about the whole situation. And on balance, it does seem like a good thing that messing my pants hasn’t triggered the expected zone out to babyland. I turn back around to face her, acutely aware of the mess shifting with my movements. “Well…I guess this means…I…passed? Maybe this means I’m trigger proof?” I’m doing my best to mirror her ‘pooping in your pants in front of me is no big deal’ vibe. Katie studies me briefly before replying. At first her expression is a confusing mixture of amusement and appraisal - it’s a little bit disconcerting given the delicate position she’s just helped put me in. Aren’t we on the same team here? We’re still working together, right? I’m relieved to see her face soften a little as she begins to lay out our next move. “Not quite, sweetie, I think we should do one more test just to be sure. Why don’t you sit back down and we can talk about what it might be?” I lower myself gingerly onto the seat next to her, which prompts another good-natured chuckle from Katie. The syrupy tone is back. “Come closer, sweetheart. You’re doing so good! Let me cuddle you for a second. Your poopy bottom doesn’t bother me, I promise! “Now, where were we? Oh that’s right! A final trigger test. Do you know what it is? I think you might. We were just talking about about it a few minutes ago…” Her arm is around my shoulder, and there’s a gentle but insistent pressure pulling me towards her chest. I can see that both nipples are dripping now. What’s the term for that again? ‘Let down?’ “That’s right. I think you already know the answer, my sweet little boy. I want you to try nursing from my boobies. If you can resist going back to baby land while doing that, then you’re almost definitely trigger proof!” She reaches up and slowly pulls her top completely off, now offering me a completely unobstructed view of her breasts. Her bare shoulders accentuate the soft curves of her womanhood. Another electric shock courses from my perineum to the top of my scalp. The ringing in my ears has grown deafening. Given what I’ve just been though, this seems like both a wonderful and a terrible idea. Hadn’t she just told me that only a baby was allowed to do this? That only a baby would want this? And yet the urge to comply was so irresistible. I was literally drooling down my top looking at her breasts. “Come on, pumpkin,” she coos in her most syrupy and seductive voice. “Come have some lovely warm booby milk, and then I’ll change your stinky pants. And it can be an extra special diaper change if you’re still a big boy when we finish. Won’t that be nice?” I am powerless to resist. Without further hesitation, I turn and lay myself across her lap, my head facing her chest, my mouth already straining greedily upwards. She gently guides her nipple into my mouth with one hand and then cradles the back of my head, holding me to her, pressing me into her, suffocating me in her warmth and femininity. She moans as I performed a tentative first suck. Encouraged by her response, I give a longer, deeper suck, and this time hot milk rolls over my tongue. It’s heaven. My eyes roll back. Fireworks go off in my head. I’m barely able to follow along as Katie whispers softly to me: “Such a good baby. Mikey doesn’t want to be a big boy, does he? No. He wants to be a little baby drinking from my boobies in a dirty diaper. I’ve known that all along, darling. This is what’s best for you. This is what everyone wants for you now. She smiles down at me. I smile dopily back around the nipple, milk spilling from the corner of my mouth. I feel my bladder letting go, my diaper warming against her hip as I continue to suck. I giggle and close my eyes, watching the fireworks behind them. There was something I needed to do - something I needed to try to maintain, but it doesn’t seem important right now. I’m feeling so comfy and safe and warm. Completely blissed out. Katie has started humming the same, simple melody I heard her performing earlier. The song has no words, but it’s still so profoundly meaningful in terms of what it tells me about warmth, and care, and safety, and love. I sigh deeply around her nipple. “Pancakes!,” I think. “She smells like pancakes!” And then I am gone.

Looking to do a fnaf diaper RP need a cg/dom who is ok with spanking and breastfeeding

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

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

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

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

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

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The child was just like any normal 9 year old child, he was in 4th grade in which she loved to read and is very good at long division. He likes school and seeing her friends but likes the weekends at home too where she doesn't usually have homework. His/her favorite color is pastel green. He/she loves watching Netflix and has a secret love for watching tv show for very little children even if they are "baby shows". He/she's currently working on reading an old book his mommy gave her called "harry potter" but still gets caught up on some big words. He/She also has a bit of an entitlement issue with being seen as a big boy since he's only about as big as the first and second graders and only just stopped sucking his thumb at night a few weeks ago. (Our RP starts as the little boy is doing his homework in the living room with train playing on the TV, the door bell rings his mommy answers the door to see the babysitter she had called for the night. This babysitter was different though and has promised to get her little boy to relax and enjoy being a "little" kid more.... I will play the adult characters. If you want play with me you can contact me privately)

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

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

This is a new story entirely based on fantasies that I have written with 22 chapters. Translated from another language. Here are the first two chapters. African experience By Sandman Chapter 1 - Africa Rob stretched out his legs on the couch and enjoyed an extra cup of coffee. The apartment that he rented was really something very special. Not least the large roof terrace where he sat and enjoyed his new life. The tranquility, the pleasant tropical heat, the view of the leafy pool area. Everything felt good. That he hadn't done this before! Rob almost got angry with himself when he thought about it. Financially, it wasn't a big deal, and he could do his job just as well here, if not better. It was still a bit nerve-wracking to have moved to a completely different part of the globe, but it had been a much-needed change of scenery. Now he was in place. Far, far from home in a continent where he didn't know a single person. Rob had landed yesterday, Wednesday. The journey had been stressful with unnecessarily long waits at three different airports. Passport control at the arrival had not impressed and the same with the baggage handling, but in the end, he had at least sat in the taxi with all his luggage. But it had been a struggle. For a long time, Rob had thought that his luggage was delayed or even completely lost. A small "bonus" to an employee at baggage handling had solved the problem. The first thing Rob had done when he arrived at Palm Court was to throw his bags into the apartment and buy a cold beer at the pool bar. After just a sip or two, Rob felt that the travel fatigue was starting to subside. The area felt calm and nice, and he had enjoyed watching the two African women sitting on the table next to him, drinking a cup of coffee. The move to Africa had come at a good time. His best friend and training partner Dan had also moved. Quite far away as well, which meant that they wouldn't be able to see each other very often. When Rob had been given peace that Dan was going to move, he too had started to play with the idea of replacing the safe everyday environment with something new. Something exotic. Pretty soon plan A had become Africa. A gigantic continent that Rob had only read about. Now he was there, and his apartment would be the central point of his new life. The interior designer had done a good job. The apartment was fully equipped and even the fridge and pantry were stocked with the basic items that he had specified. He was already starting to feel at home. Palm Court was a large condominium. A gated community. It was an oasis in the middle of the city with walking distance to incomparable beaches, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, you name it. Rob was in paradise. The only thing he really lacked right now was love, a girlfriend. He didn't need any other company. In that respect, he was very different from his best friend Dan, who could barely stand himself for an entire evening. Rob, on the other hand, needed to be completely by himself quite often. That was when he sat and wrote his books, but he also liked to roam around all on his own. Aimlessly and anonymously. Especially when he was in a city. However, Rob was not a lone wolf, and after a period of writing, he often had a pent-up need for socializing. Lately, Rob had started to think a lot about the future and thoughts about starting a family, but so far, he was not ready for family life with a house and dog. Being single still had some unbeatable advantages, which Rob made sure to take advantage of. He appreciated being free as a bird and being able to enjoy casual sexual acquaintances, but he didn't want it that way in the long run. Rob's plan was to take it easy for the first few weeks. Acclimatize and get to know the surroundings. He had also decided to put work aside completely for a while and treat himself to a soft start. The goal was to find a balance in life where a central part of everyday life would be about physical exercise. The training served as lighter fluid for Rob. It was during the training sessions that the ideas rushed forward and gave him a boost in his writing. A well-functioning home was also important. The less he had to think about simple everyday problems, the more focus he could put on his book projects. He had come a long way with the apartment, but he needed to hire someone who could clean and do the laundry. Apparently, it was a popular second work because Rob had barely landed before he ran into the cute girl at the pool bar who immediately offered her services. They had agreed to meet today, Thursday and she seemed perfect for the job. Above all, because she worked in the area and was already safety audited and approved. Rob had just finished a quiet and nice breakfast when there was a knock on the door. The bartender girl stood there with a smile on her face. ” Hello Mister! Do you remember me?” ” Hello Esther! Of course I remember you. Nice to see you again.” The answer from Rob was not a standard comment that flew out of him just to appear polite. The black woman in front of him, who was both socially gifted and sexy, appealed to him in many ways. She seemed to be somewhere in her 30s and after just a few minutes she had wrapped Rob around her little finger. Rob should of course have asked Esther for references at similar jobs, but you only live once, Rob thought and let his eyes choose. Esther was hired on the spot. A while after Esther had left the apartment, Rob had gone out onto the terrace and looked out over the pool area. He could both see and hear that there were a lot of families with children on Palm Court. These were families who seemed to live a privileged life, quite different from the much poorer families outside the fence. Rob could see that many of the housewives had nannies who played with the children, while their husbands were probably out at some well-paid job. Chapter 2 - Medical examination When Rob eventually went out on his first walk outside the gates of Palm Court, he had unexpectedly received a minor culture shock. Rob had in his wildest fantasy not imagined that there would be so few Westerners living here, but now he understood better. Esther had told Rob that expats in the area very rarely came from outside Africa. The same thing with the tourists. In other words, Rob was an odd bird, but it was one thing to hear someone else say it. Now he experienced it with his own eyes, and it was clearly a bigger adjustment than he had expected. Locally, people would refer to him as "the white man". The pale face. No personal name was needed because he was the one and only. The locals didn't mean anything bad by calling him "the white man". It was just a well-intentioned and apt description of his appearance, but Rob still found it a bit difficult. He wished he had been anonymous and discreet, instead of lighting up the sky like the pole star with his pale complexion, but deep down he felt that he would adapt. He would just have to give it some time. Because even though he stood out, he was met by smiles and the city and life on the street felt both harmonious and pleasant. Certainly, he could see that there were large gaps between rich and poor and that it was best to avoid certain areas, especially at certain times of the day. But it was nothing unique to this city, but a typical metropolitan phenomenon. One of Rob's first reflections on strolling around was that the women looked different from what he was used to. It wasn't the color of the skin that he was thinking about, but the anatomy and their sexy tits and asses. The girls were simply a little curvier here. But just like at home, it was a blissful mix of women with different looks. The difference here seemed to be that they were very proud of their bodies, even though they had a BMI far above ideal. Everywhere he saw upright women who unabashedly and naturally emphasized their feminine attributes. Over the years, Rob had had some hot relationships, but his paths had never crossed with a black woman. It had only happened that way because he had grown up and lived in environments where everyone had been white. Now it was just the opposite and only the future could answer whether this was where he would find the love of his life. The dream of a romance made him feel elated and he walked straight towards the beach. The tropical heat was oppressive, and he tried to walk slowly to avoid getting soaked in sweat. Down by the beach, Rob found what he was looking for. A simple lunch restaurant overlooking the sea. Rob took a deep breath and looked out over the green-turquoise water. Life felt like a luxury holiday. Gone was the gray everyday life, the stress and the scheduled day. Rob enjoyed seeing and hearing how the waves rolled in towards the beach, he enjoyed seeing all the happy people, who, just like Rob, appreciated the relaxed life with sun and sea. Pretty soon, Rob received renewed confirmation that he stood out with his pale skin. Some passing women had taken a detour near Rob's table, where they had discreetly stopped and straightened their bikinis or bent over and seemingly brushed off a grain of sand on a toe. It was women who wanted to show off their beach-clad bodies. Women who wanted Rob to look at them and Rob liked what he saw. He met their eyes with a happy smile. Rob marveled at how quickly humans took a liking to a person of the opposite sex. A quick glance was all that was needed for the blood to flow in the crotch, which then triggered hopes and feelings of pleasure. Rob was reminded that he longed for physical closeness to a woman. Life in Africa had started well and the lunch gave Rob another push forward. He was happy to be able to live this life. Pleased and satisfied after the lunch on the beach, Rob felt ready to make a visit to the gym. He had quickly walked past and looked in from the outside and it looked promising. The well-equipped gym was just a small part of the Micasa Health Club at the Palm Court pool area and membership was included for adult tenants at Palm Court. Rob was keen to continue with the training program that he had been doing regularly for the past few years, but there was only one small detail he had to investigate before he could train. Rob had read that you had to show a medical certificate before you could train. There must be some formality that they don't apply, Rob thought as he opened the front door and stepped into Micasa. ” Hello Mister! Welcome to our Health Club! I’m Faye, the gym instructor. What can I do for you sir!” ” Hello! Thanks! I’m a bit interested in starting to train in the gym.” ” Perfect! Please allow me to demonstrate our facility.” "Yes, please do!" The gym seemed well equipped, and the area was large and fresh. After showing Rob around, Faye asked if he had any questions. "Eh, I read something about medical certificates. Can I just show my certificate from home?" "Oh, no, unfortunately it is not possible. We have a requirement that you must be examined here at the club by our own staff. Should I book an appointment for you?" "Uh, .. Yes, please, that would be nice." "Let me see. We have an appointment free today at 14:30.” "Okay, that’s fine. I'll take it." Damn shit, Rob thought. For some reason, he hated health checks. He was fit as a fiddle but still there was something about being examined that he didn't like. A little frustrated by the bureaucratic rules at the gym, Rob went back to his apartment. Just before the agreed time, Rob walked down to Micasa, dressed in his gym clothes. His hope was to be able to do a proper workout immediately after the examination. "Hi Faye! Now I'm here for the health check. Where should I go?" "Hello! Come with me, I will show you where Fatima is housed." They walked in the opposite direction to the gym and at the end of the corridor was the examination room. "Hello Darling,” said a very beautiful woman. Rob had seen her before both at the bar and in the pool area. "Hello" he replied happily and was a little surprised that he suddenly started to feel very shy. "Are you closing the door on the way-out Faye?" said Fatima. "Yes boss! He is all yours" Faye replied with a smile and left the room. "Okay. Then we will start by filling in some information in the journal. "Fatima took out a tablet and logged in to an app. Then Rob had to answer an insane number of questions between heaven and earth. Every single vaccination was documented, as was basically every patch and cold he had had since he was an infant. It was as if the questions would never end, but suddenly Fatima said. ” Baby, please be so kind and take of your shoes, socks and t-shirt for me.” Okay, now it was apparently time to examine the body for real, Rob thought. He did as she said and wearing only sports shorts and underwear, he was thoroughly examined. She listened to her heart and lungs. Checked his blood pressure. Pricked his finger and took a blood sample. Rob even got to ride an exercise bike with a heart rate monitor around his chest for 10 minutes. Everything seemed to be normal. It was now that Rob thought Fatima was done, that all that remained was to print and sign the certificate. That he would get the green light to train at the gym. But the examination was not over at all, and Rob did not see it coming. Fatima took him completely by surprise by resolutely pulling off both shorts and underwear in one quick movement. What happened next almost made him go underground. The latex glove, the Vaseline, none of that he had paid attention to. No..she can't.... Upff.. Her finger had quickly found Rob's little hole, and she hadn't hesitated for a second. Now he stood there with her finger deep in his ass and was so ashamed that his cheeks had turned bright red. ” Relax baby.” Rob was far from relaxed and felt extremely embarrassed. However, Fatima seemed to enjoy the situation. ” Okey Darling. Does it hurt?” "Uh... no" "You like? " "Eh, well, .. uh.. I was not prepared for eh.." ” Baby, don’t be shy, just relax and be a nice little boy?” Her free hand cupped around Rob's balls, and it felt a little too nice to avoid erection. Rob's cock was growing and he really had to bite his tongue to try to limit the "consequences". ” Look at that!” said Fatima and caressed Robs semi-stiff manhood. “Someone’s babymaker is waking up!” Fully aware of what was happening, Fatima now began to slowly move her finger inside his ass. She quickly found a point that elicited insanely nice tickles and Rob found it difficult to stand still. ” Do you have a girlfriend, Darling?” "Eh, no" ” Why? Don’t you like ladies?” "Eh, yes I love women, absolutely. I'm 100 percent heterosexual but right now I don't have a relationship. Uh, oaaa.." Fatima caressed his balls and almost weighed it in her hand. Damn it. Now Rob could no longer control himself and his torpedo blossomed to its full length. ” Yes darling. That’s my baby! When was the last time you had pussy darling?” "Eh , but,, .. It was... okey, unfortunately quite a long time ago." ” Well, ... but when was the last time you used your right hand?” "But eh it..... If you absolutely have to know, I'm actually left-handed and did it a couple of days ago." ” Oh, you naughty little boy!! Well darling. Just so you know, it takes a couple of weeks to have your medical certificate ready. I hope that’s okey for you but ... you should know that there are ways to speed up the process.” She caressed Rob's cock as she said it. Rob couldn't help it, but his cock now stood like an iron skewer. "Uh...? What does that mean?" ” Well darling. You just need to be my little baby boy for a while. Me being your new master putting on a diaper on your white little ass......” Fuck! Rob hardly knew where to go. ” Relax darling, I’m just kidding but make sure you meet me at Ocean view restaurant at six o’clock tomorrow night.” Fatima did not expect an answer and ended the investigation of his now not so private areas. Slightly shocked, Rob put on his clothes while Fatima wrote something in her journal. ” See you later my little baby boy!” ”Eh... Yes Mom!” Damn it, Rob immediately regretted answering like that. It just flew out of him. Fatima raised her eyebrows and looked at him a little superiorly. ” Don’t be late darling, otherwise I will force you to bend over on my lap and spank your white little ass.” ” Okey, I get it!” On the way back to the apartment, Rob realized that his heart was pounding and was so excited that he was in a cold sweat. Fatima had made him feel inferior and the strange thing was that he couldn't decide if he liked it or not.

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

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

Hi guys! I finally got a Subscribestar. All of my stories are being uploaded there, plus a lot of new content, including in-progress content like Diapered Stepmother, The Regression Act, and Like Mother Like Daughter. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Melissa’s Re-Potty Training It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging out at the mall, and twenty-one-year-old Melissa was stuck inside her nursery. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older. She sighed. By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty trained and was allowed to do more things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one. An adult. But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper? It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. Was this to be her life now? No longer an adult but a baby. Chapter 1 The Re-Potty Training Idea As Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, her heart raced with apprehension. With each step, her unease grew heavier within her chest. The once familiar surroundings now felt suffocatingly foreign, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern visage of her stepmother, Helen, stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval. Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life before her. And Helen was a jealous woman. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend, Dana. Sadly, Dana didn’t live with her, and she needed an ally. "There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you." Helen's presence filled the room with an air of menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat. As they sat together at the polished wooden table, the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Tea, as Helen called it, was a constant ritual at home. “How you been?” “All good.” “How’s job hunting treating you?” “There’s not much out there unless I want to work for KFC or something like that.” “I see. Anything else you’d like to share with me?” Melissa shook her head, thinking about one thing she didn’t want anyone to know. But her step-mother reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers, her eyes cold and calculating. “I think it's about time we addressed your... little issue." Melissa didn't know what to say. She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet herself so many times so far that it was a miracle no one had found out. "What issue?" asked Melissa with a soft and doubtful demeanor. Maybe if she played dumb she could end this awkward conversation. "Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen, "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister." "Step-sister. And it's not your house. It's my dad's." "And according to his will, it's now mine." "And mine!" There was a short moment of silence. "Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand, "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've like that. What do you think?" Melissa nodded, hesitant, though. She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. Helen leaned closer, her voice softening, "I don't want you to feel ashamed anymore. We can help you fix this." Melissa glanced down at her hands, gulping, "I don't know what to do." "Well, I was thinking. Amelia is going through potty training. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?" Melissa almost choked on her own saliva. "What do you mean, potty training me? I'm an adult!" "I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers will be the only way." Melissa's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here." "True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes and my furniture and setting a terrible example for your sister." Melissa didn't really have an argument; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one. “Step-sister,” she said, “What do you mean potty training me?" “I think that part is self-explanatory, right? We take you potty on a schedule until you stay dry in between potty trips. Then we decrease the frequency until you earn your big girl panties again. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go by yourself. How does that sound?" "How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed, "Wet myself until we get it under control." "We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling, "Protection under your clothes." "No! I told you, no diapers." "Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear." "What's the difference?" "For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different and they are very helpful during potty training..” "I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it. "I just want to help you," said Helen. "Besides, this could be an excellent way for us to connect—you know, have that mother-daughter experience we never had.” Melissa sighed, ”When do we start?" "What about right away?" Helen wasted no time. She grabbed Melissa by the wrist, softly leading her deeper into the house. Through halls and corridors and stairs until they were in a room painted soft pink. It was Amelia’s room, and she wasn’t there. “Amelia is playing outside," Helen replied, "In her sandbox.” “She won’t know?” “She will. But she won’t care. She’s only three.” Helen grabbed some white underwear with the design of some Disney princess on the front. It was small, but then again, Melissa was quite thin. Tall, yes, but thin. “Try this on,” said Helen, placing the pull-up in Melissa’s hand. It was defiantly thicker than regular underwear, and the deign was childish. But Helen was right, they didn’t look that much different from her panties. “A little privacy, please.” Helen left the room, leaving Melissa in the nursery. She carefully dropped her pants to notice her underwear was already damp. Sighing, knowing she actually needed the protection, she took her panties off and cleaned herself with some baby wipes she had close by. Finally, the moment of truth. She slid into the pull-ups, feeling the soft thickness of them against her smooth crotch. She didn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror. She rushed to get her pants on again, and when she was sure her protective underwear wasn’t visible, she left the room. Chapter 2 Potty Time While Helen prepared lunch, Melissa sat at the dining table, staring blankly into space. Each clink of the dishes sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of what was around her crotch. The pull-up wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, but it was definitely not something she liked. She had kept it dry so far, though it had not even been an hour yet. Helen entered the room carrying a tray laden with fries, nuggets, and fresh salad. She smiled gently at Melissa, something the young woman wasn’t used to. Next to her was her younger stepsister, Amelia. At three, she looked like a mini version of Helen herself. It was obvious she was destined for popularity, unlike Melissa, and somehow, even if Amelia had always been nice to her, she always resented her. “Mel's potty training, too, Mommy?" asked Amelia as she grabbed a handful of fries. "That's right, hun." Melissa tried to smile back, but it seemed forced. Helen noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll take it slow, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way." Feeling slightly more reassured, Melissa nodded. "Thanks." As they all sat down to eat, Melissa couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Helen's behavior. Helen seemed to genuinely want to help her, but she wondered why. "It's time for the potty," Helen announced once everyone was finished with the meal. Helen gave them no time to argue as she grabbed both their wrist, pulling them towards the living room, where a plastic potty awaited. "Is that really necessary?" asked Melissa in shock. "It's just part of the process. Show me you can use the plastic potty, and you can move onto the toilet. It shouldn't be difficult. Should it?" Before Melissa could continue arguing, she was interrupted by her stepmother. "Who wants to go first?!" asked Helen again with a devilish smile. Amelia raised her hand. Within minutes, the younger of the three had done her business like a professional. "I'm a big girl!" said Amelia, smiling from ear to ear, "I'll be potty trained first!" Those words weighed heavily in Melissa's mind. The little brat was as competitive as her mother. It had been cute a few years ago, but now, she was just annoying. Melissa felt her rage growing stronger, fueled by the constant tease. But she fought back against it. After all, Helen was only trying to help. And Amelia needed the encouragement. "Yes, you are," said Helen, "But I think Melissa will surprise us too, right, Mel?" Melissa nodded. Despite her frustration, she decided to give it a try. If nothing else, she owed it to Helen since she helped her when nobody else did. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself onto the seat of the tiny plastic potty. In contrast to Amelia's confident demeanor, Melissa felt vulnerable and exposed. However, knowing that she must prove her mettle, she closed her eyes and focused on relaxing her muscles. But nothing. A minute passed. And then another. She pushed harder. Nothing. She pushed again, and a loud fart echoed in the room. Melissa blushed as her stepmother and stepsister giggled. One more minute passed. Another. And nothing. "Alright," said Helen, "I don't think it's going to happen." "No, wait!" said Melissa, pushing harder now, "I can do this." "Honey, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you push that hard. It's okay. You didn't make it this time. Let's just try again later." "I made it to the potty, Mommy. I'm winning!" said Amelia, happy as just a kid could be. But as Melissa pulled her pull-up and pants back up, she couldn't help but feel pathetic and like a failure. She was an adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee by herself. "You'll make it next time. It's okay. It's the first time you've tried. I'm sure you'll make it," said Helen, and for the first time since Melissa met her, she actually felt as if her stepmother cared about her. Perhaps this potty-training idea wasn't that bad after all. With her first time on the potty a failure, Melissa had nothing left to do but wait. She was to call for Helen's help if she felt the need to go, but the thought of having to ask for help to pee was too embarrassing to even consider. She was a big girl. She could make it to the toilet without any help. And so she waited. "Potty time," said Helen an hour later as Melissa worked on her resume. It wasn't looking that good, but she wasn't twenty-one yet, and she needed the money if she wanted to go out that summer with her friends. "One minute," said Melissa, staring at a blank page. Maybe tomorrow, she could try again. It's not as if she were in dire need of a job. If only being an adult weren't that difficult. She stood up and went straight to the living room, where Helen and Amelia were waiting beside the plastic potty. "Your sister's dry," said Helen, "What do we say?" "Congrats," said Melissa, pretending to care enough to form a smile. Helen approached Melissa with a gentle, almost motherly demeanor. "Now, let's check our big girl." "What are you...?!" Helen's finger found their way to the elastic band of Melissa's pull-up. The young adult blushed, trying to get away but failing. "My dear," said Helen, removing her fingers from Melissa's crotch, "You're wet. "What? No. I'm not!" Melissa rushed her hand to her padded crotch, only to notice it was bigger and warmer and obviously full of urine. It couldn't be. She didn't feel it. She was a big girl. She should be able to make it to the potty. Her eyes turned watery, and her knees began shaking. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting back the tears. Helen embraced her with no hesitation—a warm embrace—the sort of touch only a mother could provide during times of distress, and for a second, Melissa felt less of a failure. "It's okay, honey," Helen said, patting her back carefully, "That's what your pull-ups are for. You'll make it next time." It sounded familiar, like some of those truisms parents tell children to encourage them. As much as she despised admitting it, her stepmother's kind words did help. Perhaps Helen was right. She might very well make it next time. It was just one accident. She would make it to the potty next time. There was no way she would lose the race for potty training against her younger stepsister. But for the entire week, Amelia outperformed her. “I’m a big girl!” She would sing as she made it to the potty. Meanwhile, Melissa sat there, and nothing would come out. As if her body was actively working against her. Every day she would have to use three pull-ups or more while her younger step-sister was about to graduate to big girl panties. “Maybe we started you too early,” said Helen as she checked Melissa’s underwear. “It doesn’t seem you’re making any progress. If anything, it looks like you’re regressing.” Melissa blushed at her words. “We’ll keep trying tomorrow. But we might need a different approach if things keep going this way.” Melissa said nothing as she got ready for bed that night. Now alone in her room, her thoughts were flooded with the idea of failing her second potty-training. What would she say to Dana? She had been avoiding her best friend all week in hopes she could get her accidents under control. Melissa sighed, closing her eyes, hoping the next day would be better. However, when she woke up, she noticed something new as she moved in her bed. The padding between her legs was heavier and colder. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi guys, here's one of my latest stories. You can read it now on Amazon Kindle Wife's New Boyfriend Is My New Daddy: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DSR2VKVB or check my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5 Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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