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“I am not going to be their flower girl,” I shouted at my Mistress. We had been arguing off and on since last night, when our closest friends revealed the part they wanted me to play in their kink wedding. Our friends were having two weddings actually. A traditional, normal, wedding for all of their friends and family. Then a second wedding, to share with their friends in the kink community to celebrate “their true selves,” and where everyone could celebrate as “their true selves.” I had known for months that I was a groomsman for their traditional wedding. I assumed that I was going to be one as well for their kink wedding, but instead, they told me last night that they wanted me to be the flower girl for their kinky wedding the next day. Mistress and I had been arguing ever since on whether I would be doing it or not. “Yes, you are sissy,” Mistress replied. "They said that for this wedding they wanted a diapered sissy flower girl and that means you." "I don't care," I said. "I don't want to be a flower girl, I don't want to wear a dress, and I don't want to wear diapers in front of everyone. There's nothing you can say or do to make me!" "Oh, we will see about that," Mistress said grabbing a hairbrush from the dresser. Immediately she began swinging it wildy at my thighs, not caring what part of me she hit. The few blows that landed mercifully hit the outside of my thighs, but they stung like hell. The inflicted pain, and the fear of catching the hairbrush in the head or nuts, soon had me running from the bedroom, and Mistress was able to herd me with the hairbrush into our playroom. A well aimed strike from her landed hard and fast on my ass. I cried out in pain, and this gave Mistress all the opening she needed to manhandle me onto our spanking bench. She must have planned to do this, because impossibly fast a strap is around my waist pinning me to the bench. I made the mistake of flailing my arms around trying to find and undo the buckle, but this just made it easier for Mistress to grab my arms and force them into the cuffs attached to the table. Soon I was helplessly immobilized while Mistress searched through our impact toys, selecting a few that she thought would persuade me to see things from her point of view. After a few minutes of terrified anticipation, I felt our narrow, rubber paddle caressing my ass cheeks. That was a relief, because this was the toy Mistress used as a warm up before one of our impact sessions. If she had wanted me to be miserable, she would have grabbed a wooden paddle. Not to say Mistress’s first strikes didn’t sting, and the strikes quickly went from a sting to full blown pain quickly. After five minutes, I was squirming as much as I could in my bound position. After another five minutes, Mistress switched from the rubber paddle to a flogger. Each heavy thump of the flogger across my shoulders, ass, or legs dropped me a little bit deeper and a little bit deeper into subspace. Mistress kept this up for fifteen minutes as my body sank into a numb pain from the strikes of the flogger. Then, to ensure my complete descent into an obedient subspace, Mistress pulled out a riding crop. She struck at any strip of flesh on my shoulders, ass, or thighs that was still pale. Once she finished, I was nothing more than a quivering, submissive mass lost deep in a haze from pain and subspace. “Now,” Mistress said, setting the riding crop down and cupping my chin in her hand, lifting it up so I was looking at her, “are you going to be a good little diapered sissy flower girl this afternoon?” I could only gently nod my head yes in her hand, non-verbal and still dazed from the impact play session. Mistress responded with a smile, then worked her way around the spanking bench, undoing the restraints holding me in place. Once the last strap had fallen away Mistress helped me to my feet, guiding me up onto the massage table in our playroom. She then disappeared, leaving me to return to coherent thought. Mistress returned about five minutes later, a large, filled enema bag in her hand. I tried to protest, but a gentle finger to my lips and a reminder that the riding crop was still out was enough to silence my protests. Soon the enema bag was secured to a hook above me, and I felt a gloved finger gently fingering and lubricating my asshole. Once Mistress felt I was ready the finger disappeared and was replaced with the cool tip of the enema nozzle. It slipped inside of me easily, and then I began feeling a building pressure as Mistress inflated the balloon tip. She didn't stop squeezing air into the plug until I started begging, crying out that the plug was ripping my ass apart. Mistress then unceremoniously opened the valve on the enema hose, letting the warm water flood my rectum. She then left me alone while the bag's contents flowed into me, knowing I was too tired and submissive to stop the enema. Mistress returned about ten minutes after the bag had fully emptied into my stomach, and I was writhing in pain on the table from cramping and the pain of the inflatable plug. Without saying a word she helped me off of the massage table, and led me back to our bathroom. Once I was seated on the toilet the sound of rushing air was followed by a pop which was followed by a cry of pain as Mistress unceremoniously deflated the enema plug and yanked it out of my ass. While I released the enema, Mistress began preparing a bath for me, filling the tub with warm water and bubbles. Once everything had been expelled from me, I was gently ushered into the soothing waters of the bathtub. Mistress let me enjoy the warm waters and play in the tub for a while, gently pushing mountains of bubbles across the water, before she began washing me. As always, it was pure heaven. I usually only had my hair cut twice a year, and it had been some time since I had last sat in a chair at the salon. This meant I got quite the long and luxurious head massage as Mistress worked the fragrant shampoo into my hair, her gentle fingers rubbing my scalp as she turned the gel into a lather. Occasionally, she stroked my earlobes, knowing that it relaxed and seduced me. Once she was satisfied, Mistress gently ran warm water through my hair, cleaning the foamy shampoo out of it. She then repeated the massage, this time working conditioner into my hair. She then took a small brush, lathered up the bristles, and began washing the sweat and grime off of my body. The bristles provided a pleasurable, scratching sensation as they worked their way across every surface of my body. Mistress was firm enough that the sensation couldn’t be ignored, but gentle enough to not be uncomfortable. The overall effect was quite arousing, which Mistress took advantage of, giggling in delight at the expressions that played across my face as she washed my erection with the brush. The bristles were not as pleasurable of a pain on the head of my penis as they were on my forehead or armpits. Once I was a muling mess, begging for respite from the bristles on my intimate areas, Mistress coincidently decided that I was now a clean little sissy baby. She then used warm water to again clean the soap and conditioner off my body and hair, and began draining the water out of the bathtub. I wasn’t allowed out of the tub though. Instead, Mistress retrieved some shaving cream and a razor, and began coating me in the shaving cream. She covered every part of my body except the hair on my head in the white foam. She then waited nearly ten minutes, letting the shaving cream soften my body hair, before she began shaving me. After a lot of work, and several more applications of shaving cream, there was not a single hair anywhere on my body from my face to my armpits to my balls. The only hair that remained was the hair on my head. She then washed any leftover shaving cream off of my body, and helped me up out of the tub. She then made me lift my arms up above my head, before wrapping me in a large pink fluffy towel. "I need my little sissy baby all dry and cozy for their diaper," she said as she dried me off. She spent extra time dabbing my crotch and butt crack off with the towel. After five minutes of stroking and patting me with the towel, Mistress decided that I was ready to be dressed. Naked, she led me back into our playroom, and helped me back onto the massage table. She laid me down on my back, then pulled a thick white diaper out from a storage container underneath the table. "Your outfit is going to cover your diapers up, so my little sissy doesn't need one of her pretty diapers," Mistress said, grabbing my ankles to lift them up in order to slide the diaper underneath. She then placed two stuffers in the diaper for extra thickness. Mistress then grabbed the baby powder, sprinkling quite a generous amount over my crotch, before rubbing it in with her hands. This was Mistress’s favorite part of diapering me, slowly rubbing her hands all across my cock, balls, taint, and ass in order to make sure every part of my diaper area was coated in the sweet smelling powder. She especially loved rubbing the powder across my cock, feeling it expand and grow in her hand as her gentle ministrations elicited a massive erection from me. “Now I am trusting you to be a good little sissy and not make any cummies like a bad little baby at the wedding,” she said, finishing powdering me and rubbing the excess free from her hands, “If your a bad little sissy, I won’t hesitate to pull down your diapers, spank you, and lock your cock up in front of everyone for the next three months. Now, before we tape this diaper up you need one last thing.” Mistress walked over to the dresser that contained all of our sex toys, and returned with a bottle of lube and one of our favorite toys. It was a vibrating, inflatable, remotely controlled buttplug. It had been an expensive indulgence, but the number of mind-shattering, leg-shaking orgasms it had produced in the both of us made it worth every cent. Without saying a word Mistress put on a latex glove, before lubing up a finger and sliding it in and out of my asshole in order to get it ready for the plug. This only took a minute to do, as the prior enema with the inflatable nozzle had left my ass loose. She then poured some lube on the plug and slid it in, before inflating it until she was sure it would be stuck there for the rest of the day. “There. That way no one will have to worry about smelling any messy diapers at the wedding,” Mistress said as she pulled the glove off of her hand and threw it into the trash. She then repositioned the diaper underneath me, spread a bit more baby powder into my ass crack to absorb the excess lube, and pulled the front of the diaper up and over my crotch. With swift, decisive actions she fastened the tapes, and the diaper firmly and comfortably cocooned my cock, balls, ass and buttplug. “Now, sit here while I get the rest of your outfit,” Mistress said, helping me up into a seated position before wandering off to collect all of the raiments I was going to have to wear today. The first garment put on me was a pair of locking plastic panties, “to help me be a good little sissy who doesn’t touch her diapers, and to make sure I don’t ruin any of the nice clothes Mistress bought me,” she said as she slid them up my legs and into place. Next a pair of sheer white tights were rolled onto my feet and up my legs. Next came one of my personal favorite pieces of clothing. It was a white onesie, with a thick petticoat sewn into the waist. I loved it because of how locked into my sissyish outfit it made me feel. I lifted my arms up so Mistress could slide it over my head and down my chest, then squatting and spreading my legs slightly to make it easier for her to snap up the buttons between my legs. She then slid a couple more short petticoats up my legs to set them underneath the one sewn into the onesie. Mistress then pulled a small corset and pair of panties from the wardrobe. The panties were a pair of slightly padded, pink rhumba panties with lace sewn across the leg cuffs and rump, with “Sissy” embroidered into the front. The corset was a simple pink band designed to cinch in the waist and be worn under clothes. “Are those really necessary Mistress,” I whined. I already couldn’t comfortably bring my legs together, and the panties would give me a pronounced waddle, in addition to dying shame if anyone saw them. The waist cincher would make it an even longer and more uncomfortable day. “Oh yes of course,” Mistress responded, ignoring my whining tone, kneeling down to slide the panties up my leg. “You want to have a pretty, tiny waist instead of that ugly beer belly of your’s, don’t you sissy?” I cried out “Yes Mistress” when she pinched my leg after I didn’t respond. “And people will be expecting to see something pretty when they flip up your pretty skirt. You don’t want to disappoint people, do you sissy?” “No Mistress,” I responded promptly this time as she finished adjusting the panties around my waist so that none of the lacy ruffles were tucked into the panties. Satisfied, she had my lean against the massage table to put the waist cincher around my belly. I had to stand with my legs splayed, the layers of diapers and clothing preventing me from being able to close my legs. Leaning against the massage table, I shrunk my belly as much as possible for Mistress, letting out a deep breath while sucking in my chest. Mistress then wrapped the cincher as tight as she possibly could around my waist, securing the hooks to hold it temporarily before properly tying it up. When she was finished it felt tight across my stomach, but not painful thanks to the fabric of the onesie preventing it from digging too tightly into my stomach. “Oh, you already look absolutely adorable. You are going to be absolutely adorable in your flower girl dress,” Mistress said, stepping into the hall to grab my dress. She returned a minute later with a dress that made my legs buckle, my cock grow hard, and the sissy inside of me squeal in delight. The dress was a soft pale blue. The skirt was layer upon layer of ruffly lace in the shape of flower petals. On the chest was a massive fabric rose, with the stem embroidered down the center and the fabric petals protruding out from the chest just below the neckline. Completing the dress were puffball sleeves and ribbons to tie into a massive bow in the back. Mistress unzipped the dress, and lifted it over my head, sliding it down my waist and over the layers of petticoats. I let out a sigh as I felt the dress tighten across my body while Mistress zipped up the back. I really shouldn't have been surprised when I heard the small click of the padlock as Mistress locked the dress shut until she was ready to release me. She then drew the ribbons back tightly and tied them into a massive, girly bow behind my back. Finally, Mistress pulled out a pair of white leather pump heels and helped guide my feet into them. "You look absolutely adorable, baby. The absolute image of sissy perfection. You're going to have to be the model of good behavior today dear or there will be no shortage of Doms wanting to pull your frilly little butt over their laps and go to town until your crying," Mistress said. I tried to get a peek of myself in the mirror, but Mistress dragged me out of the room before I could see how I looked. "That better not happen, though. If it does, I will spank you again for ruining all of the pretty makeup I am about to put on you. Mistress led me back into the master bedroom, where she had already set up a padded stool next to the dresser with all of the makeup spread across it. Once again I tried to get a glimpse of how the full outfit looked, but I still wasn't able to see myself in any mirrors. Mistress began by rubbing moisturizer into my face. She then took a small brush to apply various shades of concealer, hiding the usual under eye circles, blemishes, and most importantly, the last vestiges of my facial hair. Satisfied that all these imperfections would disappear under a layer of foundation, Mistress squirted some of my foundation onto the back of her hand before dabbing it onto my face with a sponge. The foundation felt cool as it was softly applied to my face before drying onto my face. The foundation left a feeling, not quite a weight, but definitely noticeable. I sort of enjoyed the feeling. It gave me a sensation to focus on, one that helped distract me from my normal day to day thoughts and fall into my sissified state. Satisfied with my foundation, Mistress then began working on my eyes. First she covered my eyelid and eyebrow in a white eyeshadow to serve as a base. Next, she applied a small amount of eyeliner to my top and bottom lashline. I tried not to squirm while she traced the lines, but I always hated the feeling of the tip so close to my eyeballs. While I always enjoyed how it looked when it was finished, it was a step of my makeup that I was always happy when Mistress left out. Thankfully, Mistress only applied a small amount of eyeliner to help accentuate my eyelashes, so this part was over quickly. Next a soft powder blue eyeshadow was applied to my eyelids and the crease of my eyes, then blended with the white eyeliner. Finally a brighter, sparkling blue eyeshadow was placed on my eyelid. To finish my eyes, Mistress applied a first coating of mascara to my eyelashes. Next came a set of false eyelashes. They felt heavy on my eyelids as they solidified into place. Finally, a couple quick presses of an eyelash curler and another coating of mascara were applied to blend my real and false eyelashes together. Highlighter and bronzer were applied next, turning my brow, nose, and cheeks from masculine, broad surfaces to feminine, angular ones. Next a fluffy brush was packed with blush before Mistress brushed it into the apples of my cheeks. This left me cheeks so rosy and glowing Santa would be jealous. Last a large powder buff was patted against my face several times, setting all the powders in place for the next several hours. Mistress then applied a pink lipstick, and several coats of lip gloss to finish my lipstick. "There," Mistress said as she applied the last coat of lip gloss, "you can kiss all the pretty boys and girls and not have to worry about constantly fixing your makeup sissy." My face flushed a bright red at the thought, though it was hidden under all of my makeup. Making me ask others for a kiss was one of Mistress's favorite things to do when I was out in public as a sissy. "Now," Mistress said, cupping my face in her hands, " i don't think we will go with a wig today. That will be too hot. Plus we want to show how pretty your natural hair is, right sissy?" "Yes Mistress," I responded. My hair was fairly short, not leaving Mistress much to manipulate, but soon I felt a brush passing through my hair. This was followed by several liberal douses of hair spray, and ended with what felt like a heavy hairbow being clipped into my hair. "There, I think my sissy is all ready for the wedding," Mistress said. “Would my sissy finally like to see how I’ve dressed her?” “Yes please Mistress,” I begged, trying to sound as pleading as possible. “Ok sissy, stand up and come to the mirror,” Mistress said, helping me up off of the stool and leading me over to the mirror. My cock twitched painfully hard in my chastity cage and my knees nearly buckled as I looked at myself in the mirror. Looking back at me was a frilly, delicate boy, and I had never felt more feminine in my life. My hair and makeup made me feel soft and girlish, while the lacy dress swishing around and revealing my frilly panties made me feel like helpless, simpering sissy ready to do as told. “You look absolutely gorgeous sissy,” Mistress said, holding me from behind as I continued to gaze at myself in the mirror. “I am going to have to keep my eyes on you the whole night to make sure no one tries to kidnap you and take you home for themselves. And to make sure you don't ruin your beautiful outfit.” Mistress tied my large, frilly bib with the phrase “Mommy’s Sissy Boy” embroidered on the front around my neck. “We don’t want you getting anything on your pretty dress, do we sissy?” “No Mistress,” I replied obediently, worried how long the embarrassing bib would remain around my neck. “Good sissy,” Mistress said, “now, why don’t you sit on the couch and watch some cartoons while I finish getting ready?” Mistress led me downstairs to the living room, where she sat me on the couch. “Now you be a good little boy, watch cartoons, and don’t move a muscle from this spot.” “Can I watch Bluey Mistress,” I asked, hoping I would be allowed to watch the show. It may have been one of my favorite shows, even as an adult. “No sissy, not today,” Mistress said. “You turn into a cheeky toddler when you watch Bluey, and we want you to be a well behaved sissy boy today. You can watch something else instead.” Mistress turned a different, more babyish cartoon on for me instead, handed me a sippy cup of water to drink, and headed back upstairs to finish getting dressed. As she walked up the stairs, she reiterated, “I don’t want you to move a single inch from that spot baby, got it?” “Yes Mistress,” I called after her as she left. It felt like it took ages for Mistress to finish getting ready herself. Though the wait may have felt longer due to the mind numbing boredom of the children's show she had put on for me, or the humiliating and wonderful way I was dressed, and the growing sensation of needing to pee as I continued to suckle on my baby bottle. Mistress eventually returned though, looking absolutely stunning. She was wearing a white dress with blue flowers spread across it. Her long hair, normally worn up in a loose bun for work, was down. Her hair framed both sides of her face and flowed down her back. She had also done her makeup. While my makeup was girly and cute to emphasize my sissyness, her makeup was refined and made her look ravishing. "Good sissy, you didn't move at all, just like you were told. You only need to sit there a few more minutes while I pack your diaper bag. Do you need more water before we go sissy?" Mistress didn't wait for a reply, snatching my baby bottle and refilling it in the kitchen before giving it back to me. She then scurried around the house for a few minutes packing a massive diaper bag meant to last me through the day. Once it was finally packed, mostly with extra diapers and a few more baby bottles, Mistress helped me up off of the couch and led me to the car. She buckled me into the backseat of her car, clipped a pacifier to my bib, and then sat behind the wheel of the car, driving us to the wedding. "Now sissy, we don't know how hectic it will be once we get to the wedding, so I want that bottle drained by the time we arrive. Also, if you aren't sucking on a bottle, I don't want that pacifier out of your mouth without permission. Got it?" Mistress said as we drove down the road. "Yes Mistress," I said, before slipping the nipple of the bottle in my mouth. The car ride to the wedding was a long, internal struggle for me in many senses. Traffic was heavy, so I did my best to stay low and out of site of the other motorists as I sucked my baby bottle down as rapidly as I could. As the car ride continued though, my need to pee became excruciating. I was trying to hold it as long as possible, since I didn’t know when I would actually get a diaper change. Eventually, I gave in, and let out a moan as warm pee flooded my diaper, spreading around my crotch before being sucked into the thirsty padding. I caught Mistress looking back at me in the mirror as I filled my diaper, a smile on her face, knowing what I had just done. I finished my bottle well before we reached our friends' wedding. So naturally, I had to pee again as we pulled into the parking lot. Mistress had trained me well, so I sat patiently in the car waiting for Mistress to undo my seat belt. Before undoing my seatbelt, Mistress stuck her hand up my skirts, trying to feel the state of my diaper through the layers of fabric. I peed into my diaper again as Mistress checked me. A smile lit up on her face upon feeling the diaper warming up as she touched it. She squeezed what fabric she could in her hand until I had finished. "I think your diaper can hold on longer before you need another change," Mistress said, unbuckling my seatbelt and helping me out of the car. She held my pacifier up before my face, reminding me that it was supposed to be in my mouth, before plopping it between my lips. "Come on, let's let them know we are here and see what we can do to help," Mistress said, leading me in search of our friends. We entered the event hall. The wedding and reception were to be held outside, so the hall was mostly deserted and it took some searching to find who we were looking for. This search was unpleasant for me. I had never worn an outfit so prissy, sissy, or embarrassing out in public before. Additionally, my now well soaked diapers spread my legs out further, giving me a very pronounced waddle as we walked. Eventually, we found the groom, Dave, and another mutual friend of ours, Karen. Karen was helping to organize the wedding. "You look beautiful," Karen said to my wife. To me she said, "I know I've seen photos on fetlife, but what a darling little sissy baby you make. You will be just adorable simpering down the aisle." My cheeks burned a bright shade of red as I muttered out a "Thank you, ma'am," around my pacifier. It was only for a moment, but I saw a look of approval on Mistress's face. That was the only thing I said during the conversation. Mistress, Karen, and Dave conducted the rest of the conversation as if I wasn't there. They discussed the schedule, guest count, and what they wanted me to do during the wedding all in front of me as if I were a small child. Mistress finished the conversation by saying, "all right, just let me change the little sissy and I will leave him with you Karen." Karen replied though, "If you are comfortable with it, I don't mind changing the little sissy's diaper so you can go help Maria get ready sooner. I will keep them so they don't miss their cue for the wedding." Mistress looked at me for a moment, thinking about the offer. I pleaded with my face as best I could to not let Karen change my diaper. Whether my pleading eyes had the opposite effect, or if she simply ignored me, I don't know. "That's a great idea, thank you," Mistress said, handing my diaper bag over to Karen with a smile. Karen and Mistress made me curtsy goodbye to Dave, and then Karen took me by the hand and led Mistress and I away. Karen led us down a hallway, stopping at a set of wooden double doors. "Maria is in here getting dressed. I am sure she will appreciate your help getting dressed. It's really special." Mistress thanked her for taking care of me before disappearing behind the doors. Karen then tightened her grip on my hand, leading me further down the hallway until we reached the restrooms. Karen ushered me into the family bathroom, and spread my changing mat on the floor. She then beckoned me down onto the mat, and began sorting through the layers of fabric and ruffles to uncover my diaper. I wished I could somehow sink into the floor as this woman changed my diaper. We have seen each other naked before, but that was at play parties. This was different. This was far more intimate. I had never been dressed as A diaper sissy before in front of her or anyone but Mistress. Now she was working my plastic panties down my legs. During my diaper change, I had to hold up the numerous layers of skirts, which gave me something to hide my face behind, and not have to watch. That was very helpful. Not having to watch, I could somewhat lose myself in the sensations to get over my embarrassment. First there was the cold air as my diaper was untaped and unfurled, exposing my wet skin to the air. An even colder sensation followed as Karen used baby wipes to clean the stale powder and pee off of my crotch. Next she covered my entire crotch in a cream of some sort. It was hard to tell if it was baby lotion or diaper rash cream without sight. But I guessed it was lotion based on how she was rubbing it into my skin. This was the most embarrassing part of my diaper change, because it was at this point that she found the butt plug stuffed in my ass. "Oh, what's this?," Karen said aloud. I could hear the smirk in her voice, as she pressed the button, turning the vibrator in the buttplug on. A liberal amount of powder was then spread across my penis, balls, and ass before a new diaper was slid underneath me and then taped snug across my waist. While I lay there, losing my mind to the vibrations in my ass, sucking on my pacifier, Karen pulled my plastic panties and tights up over my diaper before redoing the snaps on my onesie. As she helped me to my feet, she said, "I was hoping I would get to put you in one of the cute baby print diapers I see you in all the time on your fetlife profile. It makes sense with all these layers and frills that your mommy would pack such plain diapers for you, but I'm still disappointed. I guess I will have to ask your mommy if I can babysit you sometime, so I can see what a little cutie you are in nothing but a diaper and bib. I can lock you in a highchair and feed you all the nummy foods like mashed bananas and pureed peas and carrots." I silently sucked on my pacifier as my cheeks glowed a bright red. Karen then packed up my changing supplies while I stood there sucking on the binky that filled my mouth. When she finished cleaning up and disposing of my used diaper, Karen said "you were such a well behaved sissy during your diaper change. I will be sure to let your mommy know." "Tank you Miss aren," I mumbled around my pacifier, knowing that that was the response she wanted. "You're welcome little sissy," Karen replied. We then left the bathroom and headed down the hall some more, stopping in a parlor. It was a simple white room with two open windows overlooking the gardens that would hold the ceremony. There was also a table, some cushioned chairs, and a tv that was turned off. Karen sat me in one of the chairs around the table. As my body sank into the cushioning of the chair, the added pressure multiplied the vibrations of the plug. I let out a grunt around my pacifier, trying to adjust to the increased sensations of the plug. "Don't start getting fussy now," Karen said as she set out a coloring book and some crayons for me, as well as an empty adult baby bottle from my diaper bag. "You start coloring a nice pretty picture while I get you something to drink and snack on." She gave my bib a little flick as she walked off. I opened the coloring book and began looking for an uncolored page. Finding one, I got to work coloring. Because this room was so close to where the ceremony would be, it was a little embarrassing whenever someone came into the room. Despite these occasional embarrassing interruptions, I became engrossed in my coloring. It was the most mentally stimulating activity I had done all day, and the only so far in which I had any sort of volition. Plus it helped draw my focus away from the plug in my ass. I was coloring my second page when Karen returned, this time accompanied by another woman a very short, black latex dress. I didn’t know her name, but I thought I recognized her from play parties before. She had a plate of cut up fruit and the baby bottle looked like it was filled with milk. I went to set my crayons down, but Karen said, “Oh you don’t need to do that baby. Valeria will feed you while you color. I told your mommy I would take care of you, and I don’t want to be blamed if you make a mess, even if it is just on your cute little bib. Unfortunately, I have to help again with the wedding, but thankfully Valeria’s master happily volunteered her to help feed you.” Directing her attention to Valeria, Karen said, “Now be sure that the drinks all of his bottle and that you feed them all of the fruit. They are a bad little baby that won’t eat it unless you make them. Also don’t make a mess. If the sissy doesn’t eat his snack or gets anything on their dress, you can be sure his mistress and I will punish you, before letting Sir Tom know. Understood?” “Yes Madam,” Valeria said quickly, letting out a nervous gulp as she finished. With that, Karen smiled and left Valeria and I alone. Valeria turned my chair slightly, then pulled up a chair so that we were angled to where she could easily feed me my snack. She picked up a slice of strawberry, and I obediently spit out my pacifier and opened my mouth as Valeria slipped it into my mouth. As I chewed, I tried to remember who Sir Tom was. I know I had seen his name on a few other events I had rsvp’d too on fetlife, but I couldn’t put a face to the name. The name Sir Tom also jogged my memory of seeing someone named HisValerianSlut rsvp’d to some events I had as well. I was guessing that this is who that was, and she used Valeria as a more usable scene name. I didn’t want to confirm my suspicions though. It was embarrassing, being fed by this woman that I barely knew. I wondered if Mistress had somehow planned my humiliation, or if this was all just serendipitous shame. I also couldn’t tell whether Valeira was a willing participant in this interaction. As soon as I finished chewing one piece of fruit, Valeria had another at my lips. I really didn’t like fruit, so it felt awful to me having to consume piece after piece so rapidly. It didn’t seem like Valeria was doing it to be cruel or sadistic though. She never said anything, and her face remained passive the entire time, so it felt like she just wanted the task to be over as soon as possible. Once she had fed me all of the fruit, the final pieces being nearly forced into my mouth, Valeria picked up the baby bottle, and brought it to my lips with the same vigor. The first few suckles at the nipple washed any remaining bits of fruit down my throat. It replaced the mixed tastes of strawberry, grapes, watermelon, and apples, and replaced it with a bland, unpalatable flavor I couldn't quite decipher. Initially, Valeria tried to get me to consume the baby bottle as quickly as possible practically shoving the bottle into my mouth. Thankfully, after a brief struggle to free the nipple from my mouth so I could have a breath of air, she slowed the pace. The baby bottle was still drained quickly though, and I didn't feel super great as I sucked the last few drops out of the bottle. Unfortunately, that's when Karen reappeared. She came over and smiled, seeing that all of the fruit was gone and the baby bottle was empty. "Thank you so much for your help Valeria," she said, patting Valeria on the head. Valeria smiled at the praise. “Why don’t you go find Sir Tom? I think he is ready to go find a seat for the ceremony, and I have everything in hand now.” Valeria practically bolted out of the seat, stammering out a quick, "No problem, happy to help," before disappearing out the door. Karen giggled a little at the speed with which Valeria made her exit before turning her attention towards me. "Alright sissy, ready for your big role?" I nodded my head obediently, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. My stomach was a mess from a combination of nerves and my forced feeding. Also, the butt plug had been buzzing in my ass for forty five minutes. My cock was rock hard in my diapers and I had leaked enough precum to create a noticeable slickness in my diaper. I had to steady myself as I stood up. Basically being horny all day from my outfit, and then having the vibrator, I was on the verge of exploding, and just the brush of my diaper against my penis as I stood had felt like ecstasy. Karen removed my bib, and the attached pacifier, placing them in my diaper bag. Next, she touched up my lipstick. Then, she handed me a basket filled with flower petals, before guiding me out of the parlor and outside to a small waiting area underneath an awning. “Alright sissy,” Karen began explaining to me, “We will be ready for you in about five minutes. You will just have to walk down the aisle, throwing the flower petals. Make sure the basket is empty by the time that you reach the end of the aisle. We can’t have you getting a spanking in front of all these guests for wasting flower petals, can we? Now, when you reach the end of the aisle, there is a small cushion set up next to John’s feet. We thought it would be just darling for you to kneel at his feet during the ceremony. It will really emphasize your femininity, and John’s masculinity. Plus it will give a nice symmetry, since your mistress will be on the bride’s side. Now, I just have to go make sure the bride is ready, and then I will be back to send you down the aisle. Understand sissy?” “Yes madam,” I replied, before Karen left me to stand under the awning by myself. I could see that John was already at the end of the aisle, standing on a small platform that had been put up in front of all of the seats. I could tell from the facial expressions of him and the man next to him, who I only knew as Ogre, were comfortably joking with one another. Ogre was the owner and dungeon master of the dungeon that Mistress and I attended regularly, and he had been asked to serve as the officiant for this ceremony. Looking out over the crowd, most of the spots for the wedding were now occupied. It seemed that every outfit imaginable could be found in the crowd. There were some wearing more traditional wedding outfits such as suits, nice shirts or blouses, and summer dresses. Others were far more kinkier. A few people were wearing leather or latex outfits that must have been sweltering in the heat. There were a few pets and ponies sitting in the grass at their owner’s sides, and I spotted some sissies in the crowd. Some slaves were even wearing rucksacks or nothing at all for the wedding. Before getting the chance to examine the crowd too closely, though, Karen reappeared. With barely a word she gave my diapered butt a firm shove and set me off, walking down the aisle. As I began my march down the aisle, I started taking stock of my situation. Has any of this been my choice? No. Was I completely miserable? No, not really. There were things I hadn't liked today, but on the whole, I was actually enjoying myself. I really liked my dress. My bath and Mistress readying me this morning had felt great. I was also the horniest I had been in a long time, and every step felt magnificent as my dick brushed against the inside of my diaper. Maybe I decided to stop fighting against the current determined to humiliate me. Maybe my arousal was strong enough to overthrow my inhibitions. Maybe it is simply that I am just such a big sissy at heart that I couldn't resist being the prissiest, most feminine thing I could be in front of a crowd. Whatever the cause, as soon as I reached the first row of seats my stride changed from a normal gait to prissy, mincing steps. Guests sitting next to the aisle were showered in petals as I tossed them in exaggerated throws that caused my petticoats to swish about me. Trying to maintain dainty steps while dramatically throwing the flowers actually took a lot of concentration. Which was good, because otherwise I would have immediately bolted down the aisle. I was soon beat red proceeding down the aisle from listening to the guests comments about my sissified state. Some recognized me, remarking that they didn't know I was a sissy. Most said nice things about how cute I looked. A few quests pondered if I had panties or diapers on underneath my petticoats, and I heard two men discussing how since there weren't any bridesmaids they wouldn't mind me sucking and fucking them at the reception. When I reached John and Ogre at the end of the aisle, I only had a few flower petals left. I sprinkled them around the platform, before kneeling on the pink satin cushion at John's feet. As it should be, the true belle of the wedding was the bride. Her parents obviously weren't invited to this particular ceremony, so Mistress was giving away the bride. The Bride's outfit was truly something. Her stomach and breasts were covered in a tight, intricate corset. The skirt fanned out behind her in rows of ruffles, but the front was shorter than a miniskirt, prominently displaying her frilly bridal panties. Silk stockings and garters peeked out above ballet boots as Mistress helped the bride hobble down the aisle. A silk blindfold replaced the traditional veil, and a bright white ball gag protruded between ruby red lips. Mistress held the Bride's Bouquet in one hand, and a white lead attached to a leather collar around the Bride's neck in the other. The Bride was incapable of holding her own flowers because of the arm binder restraining her hands behind her back. Every item the bride wore, from her panties to the ball gag was in the traditional white. Every guest was enamored by her incredible outfit. It took Mistress several minutes to lead the bride down the aisle. When they finally reached us, Mistress handed the bride's leash to the groom, but still stood next to the bride to help support her. I don't remember much of the ceremony. Truth be told, all I really remembered was the I do's. The groom said his, and then removed the ball gag from the bride's mouth. She then said I do as quickly as she could before locking her lips with the groom's in a passionate kiss. I couldn't remember much more than that because my buttplug had become slightly dislodged during my walk down the aisle. The long time inserted and all of the steps had caused it to slide out a little. Sitting on my knees on the cushion pushed my diaper into the plug, causing it to send vibrations throughout my diaper. I did my best to hold out, trying not to suffer the ignominy of orgasming in front of all the wedding attendees, but I lost that battle about a minute into Ogre's speech. It was one of the hardest orgasms I had ever had in my life. I tried maintaining my composure as much as possible, to not let everyone notice what I had just done. That left me in a stupor though, using all the power my post orgasm brain had to maintain a straight face. I was so lost, I only vaguely remembered the post orgasm piss warmly washing over my crotch. When I finally regained my senses, the bride and groom were exchanging their I do's and having their first kiss as husband and wife, owner and slave. The ceremony ended soon after that, with John carrying his bride and now permanently collared slave Maria down the aisle, followed by Mistress and I arm in arm, with Ogre bringing up the rear. The wedding party headed back to the parlor, where I had been sat to color earlier in the day, for a quick breather and some private refreshment. Once again, I was sat in a chair and left to myself as John and Ogre lavished over Maria's stunning outfit. Mistress was part of that conversation too, describing how much effort she and Maria put into getting Maria to look just right. After a while, the bridal party, I was not given a say, was ready to join the wedding guests at the cocktail hour. Mistress and I were the slowest to leave the parlor. When we were a distance away from everyone else, Mistress whispered into my ear, "Don't think I didn't see what you did sissy. Such a naughty little baby slut, making cummies in front of everyone. Did they feel good sissy?" "Yes, Mistress," I whispered back to her, burying my face in her shoulder from my shame. "It felt so good." "Awe, poor sissy," Mistress responded with mock sympathy. "Maybe we should give you public cummies more often?" I didn't verbally respond, instead burying myself deeper into her shoulder. The cocktail hour passed quite pleasantly for me. Mistress put my bib back on me, but she fed me some of the finger foods that were passed around. I was even allowed to have some wine, but I had to drink it from my sippy cup. Many of the guests came up to me and complemented Mistress for turning me into such an adorable little sissy. The only real embarrassment I suffered was when the mistress of another sissy came up to ask whether I was wearing diapers or panties. "Oh little sissy tinkles here could never go as long as that ceremony without having to potty. She's very thickly diapered under her dress," Mistress answered far louder than I thought necessary. Worse though, it was embarrassing as I wet my diaper two more times during the cocktail hour. During the cocktail hour, Mistress also made me go up to John and Maria, giving them deep curtsy to the point my rhumba panties showed from underneath my dress, before thanking them for letting me be the flower girl at their wedding. John patted me on the head, saying, "any time diaper butt." Maria gave me a long hug and a quick peck on the cheek, saying "I almost think you deserve a spanking for looking nearly as cute as me on my special day. We need to see you look this pretty more often." I gave a small curtsy again before walking away, trying not to show how embarrassed and warmed I was at Maria's words. When the guests started making their way from the cocktail hour to the dinner reception, Mistress took me to the family bathroom that I had been changed in earlier that day. Mistress gave my diaper a single poke before deciding that I was in dire need of a change. It took quite a while to undo all of the layers, but once again my face was buried in layers of ruffles as my diaper was opened and my crotch was exposed to the cool air. I think I orgasmed a second time as with a whoosh and a pop the air was released from the buttplug and Mistress pulled it from my rectum. "Did it feel good pooping out that big mean plug sissy?" Mistress teasingly asked as she thoroughly wiped every part of my diaper area. She spent a particularly long time with a baby wipe wrapped around her finger, delicately swapping my rectum with it. She had to wipe my cock off again as she had milked out the last few drops of cum inside my balls by cleaning my ass so thoroughly. Finally clean, a thorough amount of diaper rash cream was again spread over my loins. Then my nethers were coated in an excessive amount of baby powder before a new diaper was slid under my bottom and taped snugly around my waist. With more effort I was in a fresh pair of plastic panties, my onesie was resnapped, tights and panties around my waist, and skirts and petticoats in their proper place. Mistress and I then found our seats for dinner. The bride and groom had a sweetheart table, so Mistress and I sat with Karen and a few others who had helped to put on this version of the wedding. They were all mutual friends of ours and the bride and groom. I don't know if that made dinner better or worse, since I had my big, frilly bib on the entire time. Mistress also didn't let me feed myself. We took the longest to eat of anyone at our entire table, because Mistress insisted on feeding me my food. She would take a couple bites of her salmon, before carving dainty chunks of my steak off feeding them to me. She did the same with the mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and asparagus. I was glad she fed me the wedding cake like this though. Usually she made me eat cake with my hands like a baby whenever I was wearing a diaper, and I hate doing that. Of course, everything I drank was sucked out of a baby bottle as well. Once all of the guests had had their fill, the bride was carried out on to the dancefloor by the groom for their first dance. Because she was still in her ballet boots, most of their dance was the groom carrying her in time with the music, but everyone still watched with rapt attention and applauded when the couple finished. Then the dance floor opened up to everyone. I was surprised that someone wanted to dance with me on the second song. An acquaintance of ours, Alex, said a word to the DJ before asking Mistress if "he could have a dance with her little sissy." Before I even had a chance to process the request Mistress enthusiastically agreed and Alex was pulling me onto the dance floor. Alex had asked the DJ for a fast paced swing song, and when the music started he proceeded to have the time of his life twirling me around the dance floor. With every twirl and open break my petticoats went flying, giving the crowd a glimpse of my rhumba panties. I had always considered myself to be an ok dancer, having taken lessons with Mistress for quite some time now, but I had always led. This time, I was the girl, and the thick diapers between my legs forced them unnaturally apart. This combination made me feel like a toddler, waddling about the dance floor trying to keep pace while Alex gracefully twirled me this way and that. As the song ended Alex twirled me out and back in one more time, deftly sliding his hand underneath my skirts and slapping it against my diapered bottom, before raising my skirts up to reveal my panties to the entire crowd. There were quite a few applause and hollers from this finale. Mistress strode out on to the dance floor at this point. "What do you say, sissy?" Mistress said as she reached us. "Thank you for the nice dance sir," I said, curtsying for Alex. "Is that all a sissy does to say thank you?" Mistress continued. I whined, but nonetheless gave Alex a quick peck on the cheek. Satisfied, Mistress then took me by hand, letting me lead her in a waltz. It felt like I spent most of my time on the dance floor, only getting two songs max to rest before being swept onto the dance floor once again. Most men, and a few women who asked for a dance led me around the floor. Some women, and half of the other sissies at the wedding who asked for a dance, let me lead though. One of the women who let me lead them on the dance floor was Valeria. We danced a slow waltz, mostly making a circle with the box step while talking. She wanted to apologize if she had made me feel weird, or if there had been any uncomfortableness in the afternoon when she had fed me my snack. Valeria explained that they had run into Karen when they arrived, and had asked if Karen needed any help. She had mentioned needing to feed me, but was feeling a little time crunched. Valeria had told Sir Tom the night before that she was interested in trying to be more dominant, so when Karen said this Tom had suggested that Valeria be the one to feed me to try getting some experience as the top in situations. Valeria continued on though that, when push came to shove, she had panicked. I told her it was alright. She had done a fine job, just to go slower the next time. At that our dance came to an end. As we walked back to the tables and chairs she said, "Maybe I will have to see if you need a babysitter sometime while your Mistress does grown up things. Then there can be a next time for sure." By the end of the night I was a hot sweaty mess. I was so tired, and had already been so thoroughly exposed to the crowd as a diapered sissy, that I let go of my inhibitions and toddled around the dance floor in my wet diaper without a care in the world. One dance had been awkward. A leather daddy led me in an argentine tango, keeping his hand cupped on my diapered ass the entire time. Otherwise, I had a wonderful time twirling around the dance floor in the arms of the wedding guests. As the night drew to a close we said our goodbyes to Karen, Maria, and John, before making our way back home. Mistress let me ride beside her in the passenger seat on the way home. This time I didn't bother ducking as other cars drove beside or past us. I was too tired and happy to bother caring if anyone saw me. When we arrived back home, I hoped Mistress would let me go straight to bed. She had other ideas in mind though. She made me kneel facing the couch while she undressed. She then sat naked on the couch in front of me, legs spread. I knew what to do, and stuck my head between her legs. "I've been waiting for this all day," Mistress said as I licked her clitoris and pussy. It didn't take long to bring her to orgasm, her legs tightening, wrapping themselves around my head in a stranglehold until the waves of pleasure subsided. As she lay on the couch, petting my head as I lay on the floor underneath her, she said, "You know, today has had me thinking. Maybe we should renew our vows. Only this time, you can wear the dress."

"So I'll have a venti mocha latte with oat milk, a shot of strawberry flavor, and extra whip cream. Also, a tall black coffee with one cream," the blond haired boy said, smiling at the short, brown haired barista that stood behind the counter. "Oh, and my name's Alex, and she's Kacey." The Starbucks was almost empty that day. It was a grey day, cool for the summer, and few wanted to brave the inevitable rain. However, the weather that kept people out made it perfect for hot drinks, and that drew latte addicts in like flies. This particular one, in the center of a book store, combined two of their rainy day loves. "Ok, who gets the coffee and who gets the strawberry chocolate milk thing?" the barista asked. "Ummm... I..." Kacey came beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. "He gets the strawberry drink. I get the coffee." "Ok!" The barista said, and left to make the drinks. "Did you have to say that?" Alex asked the red haired girl who was clinging to his shoulder. "Yep! If your going to order something like that, the world will know." "Alex! Happy almost-birthday!" "What?" Alex said. It was Bill, a friend of his from work. He was a tall man, broad shouldered, and wore a long rain coat. He had come in while they were waiting. "I said happy almost-birthday!" Alex cocked his head to the left. "How did you know it was almost my brithday?" "Uhhh..." he said. His eyes darted to Kacey, then back at Alex. "Facebook." Alex looked suprised. "Huh. I thought I had removed that from Facebook. How weird. He turned back to the counter, unaware of Kacey glaring at Bill. "So how you doing anyway Alex? Funny to run into you here," Bill said. "Well you know I..." He was interrupted by the appearance of the barisa. "Alright I have a venti strawberry mocha made with oat milk and extra whip cream for Alex." She handed him the drink. Alex blushed. "Uhhh I think you mean a coffee. Dark coffee. NO cream or sugar." "No it was definitely a venti strawberry mocha made with oat milk and extra whip cream." Alex shook his head and looked at Bill. "No it was definitely a coffee. Your strongest kind." The barista leaned onto the counter top. "Alright. I tell you what. I'll go get you that coffee, the strongest kind we have, with no sugar or milk, but I get to see you drink it. Right here in front of us, no leaving to throw it out when your gone, no coming back in for your sugary drink." Alex stared at her considering his options. Kacey snickered beside him. "Just give me the #($@-ing strawberry mocha." ... Kacey was laughing out loud as the walked in through their front door. "OOOO LOOK AT ME I"M ALEX! I ONLY DRINK THE STRONGEST COFFEE SINCE I"M BIG AND STRONG!" she said, doing her best to imitate her voice. "Unless no one is watching then I only want my warm choccy milk." Their home was a small suburban townhouse. It was older then most but still strong, and they had repainted the walls of the main floor in deep blues and dark colors, then furnished it with wood and and simple couches. A door in front of them lead to their stair well, and on the top floor the colors began to get brighter and more vibrant, and the furniture shifted from classy to comfy. The ground floor was the 'mature' floor they showed to visitors, the top was more for them. Alex was hanging his head as he sipped his drink. "Yeah yeah yeah," he said. "So, how did he know it was my birthday soon? I don't remember mentioning it to anyone at work." Kacey paused. "Ummmm well you know how these things are. Someone hears something then they tell another then it passes to two more, and suddenly everyone knows. Its common knowledge. Everyone knows each others birthdays." "What is your uncles birthday?" She looked to the side, thinking. "November 31st?" "That's not real. There are only thirty days in November," Alex said, while going over the rhyme in his head and counting on his fingers. "December first then." "Ahh, that makes sense." He stripped off his coat, and began to take off his shoes. He was going along with it, but seemed unconvinced. "Anyway, its a big birhday for you. Afterall it is your thi.." "Twenty-seventh? You are right, that is a big one," he replied. She folded her arms. "Twenty-seventh? I could have sworn we had that a few years ago." "Well you were mistaken. I'm turning 27." He looked up at Kacey, who was standing still."What are you doing?" he asked. "Why aren't you getting undressed?" "I need to go," she said quickly, looking out the door. Alex stood up and looked out. "What for?" "Uhhh... Coffee." "We just got coffee." "I mean, copy. I need to make copies of something for work." "Oh." Alex put his hand on his chin. "Can't you just do that with our printer here?" "No. They need to be better. You know, professionally done. Glossy and all that." "Ok, should I come to help?" "NO! I mean, no, its for work. You stay here and, ummm... video games." She pointed up the stairs, toward their bedroom where they kept their gaming systems. Alex turned to where she was pointing. "You are actually telling me to go upstairs and play video games? Why?" "Why not?" she asked. "Don't you want to play video games?" Alex paused and thought. "Yeah I do." "Good! Then go!" She turned around to leave, then paused and turned back. "Oh wait! Remember to wear headphones! Bye! Love you!" That being said, she turned and ran out the door before Alex could ask anything more. Alex waved. "Love you too." He watched her run to the car, quickly open the door and get in, then drive away. "That was odd, I wonder why she was acting that way? Why specify headphones?" He thought for a second, then shrugged. "Ah well. Video game time!" He walked up the stair well to their bedroom. It was painted blue, and with cabinets and shelves built around a large king sized bed. There was a TV screwed into the wall in front of the bed with their gaming systems underneath it, but Alex ignored it for a moment. Instead, he walked to a single white door that lead to their closet and opened it. He pushed aside their hanging shirts and dresses until he found what he was looking for. A large, brown plastic box with a sealed green lid, which he unlocked and opened. "There we go," he said, staring at the packages of diapers inside. ... "Ok, quick. We only have a few minutes," Kacey said to the gathered crowed. She knew most of them, and most of the ones she didn't she had at least seen in Alex's photos or facebook pages. There was Bill from Alex's work, who they had run into earlier, then Tim from his university days, then Sarah who he knew through her, and more. It was all their friends, gathered for one reason. "So the plan is to enter the house as quietly as possible, holding the packages and balloons. I'll text him to come down, and we will shout "Surprise" as he does. He'll probably be playing video games with his headphones, so it should work." "You don't think he'll notice a crowd of people entering his home?" Bill asked. Kacey scoffed. "Please. Fuck no. When he's playing video games that guy wouldn't noticed a crowed of rhinoceroses entering his home." They all laughed and agreed. "Well we shouldn't have any problems then," Bill said. "Of course not," Kacey replied. "Unless..." A thought came to her head. He was home alone, just relaxing and having fun... her eyes went wide. Would he? She had only been gone a few minutes, but he did just get home, and its not like he was rare. She went through scenarios in her head, trying to think of a way she could avoid it without warning him. She got out her phone and texted him. "I'll be home soon! Want to go to the movies? I figure we can have 'fun' times tonight after, if you are down for that ;)" she sent him. Hopefully he'd see it, decide to stay in normal clothes for the movie, and be willing to put off any 'other' things until later. She told herself it would work, and prayed she was right.

??

(This is an older story I basically made up on the fly for this picture, but it works together so I decided to post it) OW! OW! OW! Alex shouted as he endured his spanking. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the chair legs underneath him. He swore it was worse each time. Why did this always happen to him? He had grown up. Both literally and officially according to the laws. At one point, he wasn't. He grew older, but had been caught in several immature behaviors and sent back to re-training. it had taken years, with him seemingly growing older only to be put back down in a dozen different ways. He'd lived in regression nurseries, punishment and reformation centers, maturity schools, with adopted families, even an old castle. He had gone through punishment training, reformation, all sorts of things where this had been expected. But then he had passed. He was allowed back into society, reinstated as a full adult, given back his age. He had a job, his own apartment, mature friends- all signs of his maturity. And yet he was still punished like a child, or at least a trainee. Why? The women who had him bent over her knees- a tall redhead who insisted he call her 'mistress,' was a court ordered life coach. After he had spent so long undergoing the various embarrassing punishments and so often rebounding back and having to start over, he was only allowed 'under guidance'. She was supposed to watch him, help him, and ultimately determine if he really had matured or no. Maturity meant freedom, faking meant he would end up back as an adult baby, possibly permanently this time. She also, technically, had the right to punish him as she saw fit if. The fact that she did it so often and happened to use such degrading methods was none of the courts business- in fact, it would probably be used against him if anything. So here he was, all grown up and still getting spanked. He forgot which flimsy excuse she used this time. She had a bunch of them, that he was sleeping too late and rushing to get to work, leading to early bedtimes, that he had too much sugar and junk food in the house and wasn't eating healthy, leading to feedings, that his apartment was messy, leading to maid work... and on, and on, and all with spanking. He couldn't argue, the court would side with her, and they only needed a small excuse to see him back in pampers. He figured she just liked seeing him bent over her knee. Part of him worried she wanted much more. He could feel the spanking coming to an end, as she slowed. He was still yelping from the blows, and he felt a tear in his eye. He hoped she never did plan to adopt someone. She'd make a harsh 'mommy'- she seemed to love finding excuses to punish her charges, and had one of the strongest spanking arms Alex had seen. Eventually she stopped, turned him over and sat him down on her knee. Alex winced. Part of it was from the pain of a recently spanked bare bottom pressing down on her, and part of it was from embarrassment at the childish position. Laps were where regressees ended up, either bent over them or sitting on top, and a position Alex had spent far too much time in. She acted like she was doing it to comfort him, rubbing his back and rocking him, but he figured she was doing it to see him blush. "There's a good boy, there's a good boy," she said soothingly. "Did you learn your lesson?" Alex nodded. "Good boy. Then go get dressed in one of your cute outfits," she said sternly, but with a smile. "Wh...what!?" Alex gasped. She couldn't mean... no... "Oh you know exactly what I mean sweetheart. I know all about whats in your closet, I see the receipts, remember? I need to go now and I think this will be a good reminder. And don't pretend your upset, I know you want to!" Alex stared at her with his mouth agape. She was right, he had been planning on it, but having her know and point it out... "Well? Go!" she said, patting his sore bottom. Alex yelped, got up, and ran down the hallway to his bedroom. He haired her live as he did. Alex's bedroom was, from all appearances, as normal as could be. After years undergoing those particular punishments, he made sure of it. Blue walls, regular double bed, bookshelf, and a desk which he used solely for work. No toys, no dolls, no video games, nothing that could be seen as in any way childish or effeminate. He didn't even have anything that was pink. He made sure of it. At least, that is how it seemed. Taking a deep breath, he reached into his closet. He removed a large storage box and set it aside. Behind it was another identical box on top of a storage bin. He moved the box, opened the bin, and looked inside. It seemed normal- a few shirts, coats, winter clothes- just things he wouldn't need right away. He moved those aside, and there it was. The one thing only he, and now his mistress, knew about. Inside was a pink silken dress, complete with bows and ruffles, and stockings to go with it. There was a set of footed pajamas, designed after baby clothes but sized for an adult. There was a teddy bear, pacifiers, baby powder, and dolls. And, of course, hidden the furthest down of all, were his diapers- thick and white, patterned with bows, and looking as much like a baby diaper as they could at that size. Blushing, he choose one of the pampers, powder, the pacifier, and the dress. He lay them down on the bed and stared at them, blushing. He never got over the embarrassment of wearing them. Part of him still hated them all, and perhaps himself for buying them. He always felt a bit upset putting them on. However, after years of being forced into them, of struggling to hide his humiliating undergarments only to have them deliberately flashed in public, of working to avoid being treated as a child at any cost, of doing everything he could to look mature, not to mention the stress of the punishments, the shouting, the spankings, the work, the mocking... part of him had grown to love it too. If anything, being babied was one of the rare times he was unlikely to face much in the way of stress and simply be comforted. No one was ever really mad at a baby, expected much of them or demanded responsibility. He had always found himself in that position anyway, why work against it? Quickly, he opened up the diaper and spread powder on it. He lay down and taped it on. The cooling powder and the soft material felt good against his still sore bottom. Most of all, though, he felt secure. After months of responsibility and doing everything that was expected of an adult while avoiding anything at all childish, there was something comforting in just letting it go and accepting something so infantile. He stood up, adjusted the diaper, then pulled the dress over his head. He put the pacifier in his mouth and got socks and bows on. He luxuriated a moment in the soft silk and padding, then moved on. He still had to make supper that night. He walked into the hallway and toward the kitchen. He passed by the bathroom, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Instantly he blushed and looked away. It was still embarrassing to see himself like this, even if he had put it on himself. After a moment he forced himself to look again. He walked into the bathroom- a standard white tiled place with a bath and shower- and looked at himself closely. Embarrassing as it was, he really did like the look of all the cute and pretty clothes, all the pink, all the bows. Would he ever want this all the time? No, he thought. Much as it was fun for a bit, he hated being in it too long, and hated being seen in it. He especially hated when he had to use it, or actually get treated like a baby at all times. In the end, the complete lack of freedom, the lack of anything at all meant for his real age, and with the constant humiliation was awful. He shuddered just thinking of it. He wouldn't go back there if he could. A strange sound snapped him out of his thinking. It was something like a scrapping. Was it a mouse? He walked into the living room, looking. Maybe it was his imagination. "Well well well, what do we have here little one," he heard his mistress say. THAT wasn't his imagination. He spun around quickly, only to see the flash of a camera taking his picture as he turned. "AWWWW SHE"S SUCH A CUTE LITTLE BABY!" he heard, followed by a wave of laughing. There, laughing and taking pictures, was not only his mistress, but a dozen of his friends and workmates. They were all cooing at him, giggling and laughing. He backed away slightly and raised his hands in front of himself as if he could hide behind them. They must have snuck in while he was getting dressed. "Awww look at him, he is blushing!" said one of his friends, who until now had thought of him as a mature adult. "I really didn't believe you until I saw it," said his boss, who he doubted would have him work normally again. "No no, this is what SHE really is," said his mistress. "A sweet little baby girl, hiding in a big world, masquerading as an adult." She walked up to him and grabbed his gloved hand, then sat down and pulled him down on his lap. "Is this what you want little girl? To be a baby? I can send you right back to the adoption center now, let you live as your real age." The others nodded and loudly cheered their approval. Alex shook his head vigorously. "No, please... I was just relaxing! I don't want this! Please!" A few hours, on his own, was fun. In front of all these people with the threat of it becoming permanent was horrifying. And he knew what it all meant- not just dressing this way, but having to act this way, get treated this way... "Oh really? And do you think the court will believe it after I show them this picture?" she asked, showing him the photo in her camera. It was the worst possible position for him, with his skirt high enough to reveal his diapered bottom, his thighs still red from the spanking, and his head turned just enough to show his bow and his pacifier at the same time, while leaving his full face visible, with no chance of confusing who it was. "And do you think you'll go back to this life now? Do you think your friends will see you the same, or your work?" They all laughed at the thought. Alex felt tears form in his eyes. He let her hug him in close to her chest, rocking and comforting him like a baby. They all saw him as such anyway, he might as well play the part. He was even dressed for it, and of his own decision. "I'll let the court know what you've been doing, and what you really are deep inside," she said. Alex whined and began outright crying, he knew, like a baby. "Don't worry little one, I'll make sure you don't go back to those nasty punishment centers. I have other plans for you." Alex nodded. The punishment centers really were awful. They stressed the harshness and the humiliation most of all- doling out plenty of spankings, mouth soaping, locks and public displays. Usually they were meant as a set up for either reformation and maturity training, but Alex knew that if he went back there, he'd be there for a long time. And with that photo, he didn't doubt she could send him anywhere she wanted. Now his friends would support it to. It seemed he would be up for adoption after all, and permanently this time. He figured he knew who would be the first volunteer.

This is my first ever time writing a Story. I have had this idea in my mind for a very long time. I do welcome feedback but please be nice.. The Girls Holiday (Part 1 ) "Welcome Home" was all I heard as I waddled into the house after returning from holiday. There stood my Mother in Law greeting us into the house. She came over to look after the house while we was gone. Emily my GF (Well Ex now) went and gave her a hug "Oh i have so much to tell you", "but first lets show Jake to his new room" i was picked up and carried up to my new awaiting bedroom and I just sobbed at what I saw. Lets rewind a little. My name is Jake and I am 18 Years Old - I suffer from a rare condition called Pygmism, basically my body is developed but I am no taller than a 7 Year old. It does have its advantages of being able to fit into places where normal people cant fit. Being able to fit into kids clothes that are cheaper than Adults but with all Advantages come the negatives of always having to produce my ID to go into anywhere. Some places even deny me entry cause of my height and structure, all my GF friends speaking in context of like I am a child. See I am very independent I can just about reach the kettle to make myself a cup of tea when needed or being able to make a meal when Emily decides to go out for the night. it does wind me up that everyone speak to me as a child "Do you need help hunny" "Can you reach". Emily I met when I was 16 we actually went to school together and decided once leaving to move into a house together, she is very supportive of me and keeps trying to encourage me to do more and more things. I am scared to leave the house for fear of being judged but she tells me to ignore what people think. Emily is very tall (well anyone would be taller than be to be honest) and some would say that she is a bit out of my league. "Honey, I am home" she yells out as she comes through the door kicking off her heels after finishing work at the local office. Sat in the living room as usual playing on the PlayStation I smile, Remember I have my friends coming over tonight to discuss "The Girls Holiday" she keeps calling it. She is soo excited at the prospect of going away that they have been planning it for like 2-3 months. I do not understand why as it is only a rubbish little getaway for 2 weeks down to the local Beach staying in a Caravan (oooo so excited) - Other hand I was more excited at the prospect of staying by myself for 2 weeks with no-one looking after me. See since we met and moved in there has been the odd occasion where she has left me but I have never been left overnight or a period of time by myself, I am unsure why I guess she has never felt the need to go anywhere but finally after 2 Years the day has nearly come. "If you need the toilet Jake then just go" She exclaims while sitting on the couch "I have been watching you jiggling that leg and doing the potty dance for the last 10 minutes". She was right i have been so focused playing on the PlayStation and finishing of the game that I have been holding it in. I guess some would say i have gotten a little Lazy and relaxed with our relationship to how it was before. I suddenly finish off and leg it to the toilet, tracksuit bottoms down I look at my childish pants, Due to my condition I only fit in Kids clothes as mentioned above we do try to get plainest items but you cannot get boxers for a 7 Year old so therefore I have to wear pants instead, I have come to acceptance of what will be will be but still it does get me down a little. While looking down I noticed a small little spot on them, "Oh no I must of dribbled a little" I exclaim, The embarrassing thing is this is not the first time it has happened. Emily got so mad last time and she keeps making comment that my pants smell of wee and maybe we should go to the doctors if it keeps happening, As I flush and get dressed I gulp thinking shall I tell her or not - I exit the toilet and was taken back as she was standing outside, "Jack did you make it in time" she says at me with a look on her face, Thoughts was racing round my head ( Shall I tell her the truth, Shall I Lie?) I snapped back "Of course I am not 5 I know how to go to the stupid toilet" - Suddenly she grabs my trousers and yanks them down, I could only hang my head in shame as I knew what she could see "What on earth is this Jake, A Wet Spot and then you lied about it to me, I am so Angry that you lied to me" " now quick please hurry upstairs have a shower and get dressed my friends are due any moment" "unless of course you would like to discuss your problems of keeping you pants dry to Charlotte, Jessica and Louise" I quickly shake my head now bend over and pull my trousers on and hurry to the top of the stairs. - Just in time I thought as I hear the familiar sound of the doorbell going....