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  1. “I wike your bow.” Giggles. Smiling. Face hurts. Too much smiling. Her lips twitch. The curly blonde girl speaks. “Fanks Chawie!” Suckle once. Suckle twice. The monstrously big rubber pacifier bounces between her pink lips. Jenny can feel her burning cheeks as a crimson blush spreads from her chest upwards. “I wike your shoes.” She points at his Spider-Man sneakers that light up every time he moves. Mommy said good little girls are polite. Good little girls say please and thank you. Good little girls know they are Little, adorable, and helpless. Not beautiful or sexy. Cute. The opposite gender didn’t give her any attention for anything other than a new playmate. However, there was the occasional un - regressed Little that always got a little bit too excited, but of course, their mommies and daddies always nipped that silly behavior in the butt. Still though, Jenny liked to have fun when the opportunity arose because for her fellow under six footers, life in this padded prison was abysmally bleak. “D’ya wanna pway in ve house?” The five foot nine inch tall man turned toddler pointed behind them at the red wooden structure. There was just a hole for the door and two open windows. Glancing to the left, Mrs Smith and Miss Tully stood at the blacktop across the playground deep in conversation as the Little diapered adults, less than half their size of nearly twelve feet, ran wild. Charlie winked, taking her hand in his and Jenny couldn’t deny the bursting sensation in her chest that they were about to do something naughty. She nearly pissed herself in excitement - nearly that is. But it would be okay if she did because Mommy always made sure she was extra padded. Two diapers that puffed out to below her knees, a soaker pad, leak guard and pretty diaper cover to match her frilly dresses. She knew not to get too rowdy at Daycare because Mommy didn’t like mess and made extra care to crimp her bleached curls to perfection and dress her in her Sunday’s best every day. That is why Jenny knew it wouldn’t be a very good girl thing for her to run off, disrespecting all of her Mommy’s hard work like that. But at the same time, this was the most fun adventure Jenny had had in a while and she just couldn’t say no. Besides, Charlie was just about the cutest boy in daycare. Everyone obsessed over him from his chocolaty brown eyes to rich olive skin. Jenny knew that especially Sunny and Polly would be pouting to their crib at night because the most mature boy, one of the few potty training, was interested in her. “Come wif me.” he tugged on her hand and she can’t deny his dimpled grin. She waddled after him, slowed by the thick bulk between her legs and stuck her arms out for extra balance. They made it across the wood chipped lawn and as she thought they were about to hop up into the house, instead he led her behind. Confusion turned to worry and then to a creeping excitement at their mysterious adventure. Hmmmm… So Charlie Sigworth liked to live life on the edge. Oh, Jenny could definitely get behind that. Snickering softly as they disappeared from sight, Jenny wastes no time. Just as he’d lead her across the playground with her hand, she takes his hand directing it between her legs, clutching the thick padding. He squeezes, instinctively, and Jenny has him pressed against the wall, padded hips grinding into his puff-less lower half. She’s tugged the ends of her skirt up, pulling down the diaper cover and shows off her squelchless diaper, not a stain in the front nor the back. It’s not as if Sunny Freeman could say the same thing, she thinks with a smirk. “Wait -“ Charlie exclaims in a suddenly surprised voice as his wrist is caught in her grasp. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Her voice squeaked out in a delicate timber yet the glimmer in her blue eyes told a different story. “Jenny -” he choked out, blotches of red coating his skin but it is too late. The Little has no reason to think that this isn’t a two way relationship because of the way he’d flirted, going on about her hideously pink bow, grinning and taking her hand flirtatiously alluding to a grand escapade behind the old shed. But he pulls his hand back, pushing them apart until she is nearly an arms length away. Not for the first time, Jenny is deeply troubled because why didn’t he want her? Everyone seemed to want her these days. Was she trying too hard? Going too fast? Maybe he preferred girls who were wet and messy. Maybe if she just - no! Immediately she pushed the idea from her mind. He was a big boy. He wore pull-ups. Why would he want a baby like her? Her brows furrowed together, an indent forming in the middle as she suckled anxiously on the rubber bulb. Did he not find her absolutely adorable? Pretty was going a bit too far because that was only reserved for mature Littles and if she was in diapers, that meant she was too immature to hold in her business for the potty. At least, that’s how it was according to Amazonian logic and the Potty song. But, she had once been a big mature girl, one where the Charlie Sigworth’s of the world would call her pretty and beautiful and a whole ton of other scandalous names she dare not utter aloud or think. “What are you doing?” he sputtered in shock. “What are you doing?” She repeats. She was confused, especially when his hand shot out, wriggling the rubber bulb out from between her lips. The Little let out a gasp as with one quick motion, he threw her pacifier to the ground. “Chawie!” He sighed a very mature sigh like when Mommy made her stop playing when it was time for dinner but she wasn't ready yet. He said, “What’s with these games? I heard you liked to get right to it.” Her mind spun in circles, attempting to decipher what the heck he was talking about but didn’t have long to ponder as suddenly, he stepped forward again. His head turned, lips puckered and his mouth touched her own ever so softly. Jenny realized with a startle that they were kissing and it was not like the tiny thimble kiss that Wendy gave to Peter Pan. This was a grown up kiss. A mature kiss. A kiss she’d seen Amazons give each other with an intensity only giants seemed to possess. Not Littles like her. It’s too much, way too much, and before she knows what she is doing, Jenny has placed her hands on his chest and shoves him away. “Hey!” he exclaims as he stumbles backwards. “What was that for?” She squeals. “I - you - we - eeep!” Jenny can’t speak. No logical words will form in her mouth because that was a very mature act that her little immature brain couldn’t handle and Mommy, Mrs. Tully, Miss Smith and every other Amazon always said how proud they were that she knew how little she really was. But this wasn't a very little thing to do. “We came behind here to make out,” he said in a tone as if she should’ve understood. Make out? Her face scrunched up in disgust, eyes squeezed shut and nose wrinkled. She exclaimed, “ewww! Cooties!” Wiping at her mouth, attempting to get rid of the icky boy germs, this was way worse than just some silly naughty fun. Oh, if Mommy found out…. this would mean big punishment. Many spankings, big enemas, maybe even going back to etiquette school. She couldn’t do etiquette school again. That was a nightmare. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest then realizing there were even worse things to think about than just cooties. Jenny gulped, fingers inching their way up to her mouth in a need to calm the rising stress. She just wished for her pacifier. She couldn’t remember a time where she was without it in the last year. Tears welled up in her eyes, wanting - no - needing her mommy. “What did you think we were doing?” he asked when she didn’t respond. The Little sniffled, trying to explain, “I - I was gonna show you my diaper and you show me your pull-up and we could touch each others - “ He backed away. “That’s what you’ve been doing sneaking away with others?! The way everyone made it sound… “ Charlie scowled, shaking his head in apparent disgust. “They’ve brainwashed all of you! Do you even know how you sound right now?” His words struck her core, Jenny knowing that he is right. She was just a little immature baby. No one like Charlie would ever find her cute. “I - I need to get out of here.” That’s all he could say before turning away and with teary eyes, Jenny thought that was it. However, he spun around one last time. In a sad voice, he whispered. “I really liked you, Jenny. I thought you were different.” ooOoo I thought you were different. The words repeated over and over again in her mind. I thought you were different. Jenny knew that he really meant: I thought you were bigger. I thought you were more mature. Her cheeks burn bright in humiliation as she spirals over her previous actions. Stupid, Jenny. Why are you so stupid? Now, she pouts watching from across the room as Charlie flirts with Shelly MacDonald over finger paints. Jenny has seen enough and without a thought, throws down the stuffed animal in her hand, glaring at the girl so obviously flaunting her pull-up. It just wasn’t fair! Steps sound behind her and before she knows it, a surprise intrusion wiggles its way down her backside, pulling at the strap. She’s startled, jumping slightly before realizing it was Mrs. Smith. The gray haired Amazon was a stern woman and made sure the running of her daycare progressed smoothly with behaved Littles and never dry padding. “Hmmm,” she hummed, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Wet and messy. You always know how to make me happy, don’t you?” Wet and messy? There’s a look of surprise on her face as Mrs. Smith announced it loudly, causing even Charlie to look over briefly much to her shame. She hadn’t even realized she went but then again, it’s not as if it was something she had to mind. Her unpotty training had been extensive. ”If only everyone could be as good of a little girl as you,” said Mrs. Smith with a pat to her head as the strap snapped back against her skin. Jenny fidgeted uncomfortable not from the warm mush in her bottom but from the fact that the Amazon’s statement couldn’t have been further from the truth. Jenny was not a good girl. She was a bad girl, sneaking away on their little diaper adventures, kissing boys and couldn’t help but dream about a life she was supposed to forget where she was a twenty - eight year old woman who just happened to be born the wrong size in the wrong dimension and made the stupid mistake of falling in love with an Amazon. Only, instead of taking her to bed she was seduced to the crib and the only action she got after was the touch of fingers spreading baby powder over her nether regions. She wasn’t being her usual self, quiet and avoidant. Jenny had never been a good liar and her hurting stomach was testament that she wouldn’t be able to ignore the Amazon’s suspicious eyes for long. But at the same time, she couldn’t just betray Charlie because she would be incriminating more than just herself and that wasn’t fair. “You’re awfully quiet, Jenny. Playing all by yourself… is something wrong?” Oh, there were a lot of things wrong… but Jenny couldn’t say. Mrs. Smith stood in front of her now, peering down with eyes that pierced right through her soul but the Little refused to bend. “J-jus’ tiew’” she responded, faking a yawn and giving her pacifier a hearty suckle. “We just did have nap time. Did you not sleep like a good girl?” Oh no. Jenny knows she has gotten herself stuck in a pickle now. If she continued her lie, she’d get a spanking. If she admitted that she’d lied, she’d get an extra big spanking. If she’d admitted that she’d lied and told the truth…. she’d get much more than a spanking. This was a lose - lose situation. The only question now was how much was she willing to tolerate. She’d had a spank free record of almost a week and that’s only because she hadn’t wanted to stop playing at bath time. Mrs. Smith leaned down suddenly, removing her paci and a cry of surprise sounds from her lips. Immediately she whines, reaching for it back but the Amazon makes a tsking sound with her lips and pockets it in her pants. Charlie looks over again, this time his face has paled and she can the pleading look in his eyes to stay quiet. Jenny is tempted, really she is, but makes the mistake of glancing at Shelly, all cozied up beside Charlie, makes her blood boil. “Well?” Mrs. Smith tapped her foot impatiently. “Was someone a naughty girl?” Very naughty. Jenny gulped, feeling a thick coating of sweat across her forehead. She fidgeted with her skirt, eyes looking every other way except at Mrs. Smith. “I thought you were a polite little girl but perhaps you need a reminder because ignoring grown ups, not sleeping, lying… that’s only something a bad little would do. Little Jenny isn’t a bad girl, is she?” Jenny tried to keep her lips shut, really she did, but the way Mrs. Smith looked at her, sent her insides into turmoil. Whatever control Jenny thought she possessed was no longer and with buckets of sweat dripping down her body, the words burst from her lips before she could help it and the truth came pouring out. And that was the problem of a little crush. It always turned into something more and Littles just didn’t have the mental or physical capacity to handle these great big emotions which is why the Amazons had to step in, never mind the outcry from the little boy - oops - little girl. Now, one month later, Jenny was happy for another girl friend even if little Lottie was always in a grumpy mood. It was a sacrifice that had to be made for the good of every Little at Sunshine Daycare to remember their place in this big world. Charlie had gone from sneaking around the playground stealing affection from equally eager diapered women to playing princess in the poofiest thickest dresses to exist. Little Charlie ceased to exist the day his last remaining sign of masculinity was caged away, nice and tight protected by a thick waddle-inducing diaper. He also took on a new identity by a little sissy boy named Lottie and Jenny couldn’t ignore the tremendous amount of pride that this transformation was her doing. Now, she had him all to herself and no other girl would pay the Sissy any attention because the one thing they’d craved had been stripped away. But for Jenny, that had never been a problem. While it was frustrating that her little side quests had resulted in the loss of her hands, stuck in these thick mittens, it was a small price to pay. She wouldn’t lie though and say that etiquette school a second time was fun but she learned an important lesson in not trying to be older than you are. Little girls have nap time for a reason. Little girls don’t play with their diapers for a reason. Little girls don’t ’make out’ with little boys for many different reasons. She had many messy days and sore bottoms to think about her actions and Jenny realized in the end that being big was hard and the cause of too many complications. She was still suffering from them a month later with a gurgling tummy, full backside, and continuous daily spankings. “It was just a little crush!” She’d exclaimed through tears, kicking her legs as she was thrown over the towering woman’s lap and a heavy hand smacked her bottom. “Just like you had on your mommy? We all know how that ended.” Etiquette school offered no mercy, verbally or physically, nor did she deserve it and Jenny had never felt smaller. The fateful night in topic was supposed to be a nice steak and wine dinner but the Little’s first mistake was accepting the dinner invitation. Her second mistake was tasting the tempting glass of alcohol that no Amazon would ever offer a Little and lastly, her biggest mistake was believing the Amazon could ever have a crush on her back. Needless to say, there was no such thing as just a little crush. There was no such thing as a little anything in this giant world. That is how the two Littles found themselves now, squatting at Daycare as a simultaneously rush of soapy water gurgled through their extended abdomens and they bared down, pushing, pushing, pushing - “Arghhh!” Lottie cried. “I’m a big boy! This isn’t fair! You did this to me!” Warm mush, big and smelly snaked out into the thick padding with eagerness as the Amazon’s approvingly watched from a distance. Jenny was very used to this by now and let her bowels do their magic. She couldn’t help but giggle in between grunts because Lottie was being so silly. She wasn't a boy, especially with that curly long perm and certainly wasn't big by the size of her diaper (no more pull-ups) filling up nice and messy. Even if this life wasn’t fair, there was no changing it now and they could only make the best of the situation. “Don’t worry, Lottie.” She panted, taking her hand. “We’ll never be apart now!” “I didn’t want it like this! I hate you!” Hate was such a silly thing that Jenny didn’t mind because one day he’d realize how right they were for each other- diapered together forever. ooOoo Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here’s just another little short story I’ve had sitting in my drafts. It was written and cleaned up within less than an hour so if nothing makes much sense, I apologize 😭. Anyways, I love seeing your reviews and happy reading!!
  2. A friend gets shrunk down to doll size by his friend. She decides to humiliate him and punish him in so many humiliating ways. Using him as her new toy.
  3. “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."
  4. One night Jacob heard about this girl at school named Stacey was having a slumber Party with some hot girls. He had to see what they were doing. He walked up to the house then climbed up a tree to see a good view. He saw so many hot girls. Then all of a sudden the tree branched snapped then he fell to the ground. He became unconscious and blanked out. Jacob then woke up inside a house and saw every girl staring at him. Stacey then was in front of him and said "so look what we have here girls this little twerp was spying on us. I think we can actually have some fun with him, grab him". The girls then all held him down onto the floor. " Wait Please don't hurt me I just wanted to see what you guys were up to and I umm think your all really cute". All the girls were blushing. Then Stacey said " awee thanks well lucky for you I think I have something else we can do with you". Stacey then whispered to the girls and they all giggled and nodded. "Well Jacob we think your very adorable and we would love to play take care of the baby with you" Stacey then held a diaper in front of him. "We got this to so you don't have any accidents" Jacob then cried " no please I don't wanna be babied" Stacey then giggled "too bad it's my slumber Party and we will do what we want. Alright girls get him to the bed so we can change this wittle boy into a fresh diaper". All the girls then carried him to the bed and held him down. They all then stripped him of his clothes leaving him fully naked "Awee look at his little willy it's so small alright baby, time to lift up for mommy". Stacey giggled "No please anything but this" Jacob tried to struggle but the girls held him down tight. Two of the girls lifted his legs in the air then Stacey then slid a diaper underneath him then powdered his bum and wee wee. Then taped everything up. "Awee doesn't he look so adorable" Jacob was blushing so much from embarrassment. "Time to feed the baby who wants to go first?". Stacey announced. One girl said " Oh I do I do" Stacey then chuckled " go right ahead". The girl then undid her shirt and bra. " Ok Baby drink up". The girl then stuck her boob in Jacob's mouth and made him suck it. "Ouch he bit me" the girl yelled out. " Alright Girls I think this baby needs to be taught a lesson". They all grabbed him then set him over the girls lap then pulled his diaper down. The girl then started to spank him really hard. " Ouch Please no I'm sorry" Jacob yelled out. She gave him 10 big spanks. Jacob teared alot from the pain. " Now You be a good boy from now on u understand" Jacob nodded. "Alright I think this baby needs some food food". The girls brought in a highchair then set him in it and then brought out some baby food. " Now Open wide for mommy " Stacey giggled. Jacob tried to resist the yucky baby food but the girls just plugged his nose so he had to eat it. "Someone get his bottle". The girls then took him out then put him in this baby bouncer that he fit in perfectly. Jacob couldn't believe he was under the girls control now and dressed up like a baby. He only hoped nothing could get any worse. Stacey said "gosh I can't believe our little baby hasn't gone poopy in his diaper yet". One of the girls say "I really want to see him poop himself like the baby he is". Stacy then had a evil grin on her face of a great idea and whispered it to the girls and then they all chuckled at the idea. We then see Jacob held on the floor unable to move from all the girls holding him down. Stacey smiles and says "I think our baby has been good enough to earn a reward". Stacey then untapes Jacob's diaper and then we see Stacey start too pull down her pants and undies. Exposing her naked pussy and butt to Jacob. Jacob starts to get a hard on. Stacey giggles then moves closer and closer get her nice shaved pussy up against Jacob's ragging horny dick. "I see my baby boy a little excited, does my boy want a big surprise". Jacob then nods his head wanting it so so bad. Stacey then says "alright baby boy if you really want the surprise that bad il give it to you". Jacob then smiles until he sees Stacey make a weird smile on her face and then a big loud fart. Then feels something warm and sticky fall in between his legs. Jacob was shocked Stacey just made a huge massive poop in his diaper and he tried to wiggle out of his torment. Stacey laughed and said "daww does the baby not like his surprise I made him". One of the girls laughed and said "gosh Stacey I really have to poop bad can I go next". Jacob not wanting another stinky load from another girl was trying to wiggle out of this himulating and gross situation. Stacey then nods and the girl then makes a nice big stinky fart then let's loose a nice load into the diaper. We then see the girls tape up Jacob's diaper. Then they get him his hands and knees and forces him to lift his butt up in air. "I think somebody needs a spanking for pooping his nappy" Stacey laughed with a paddle in her hand. We see Stacey then swing the paddle nice and hard against his butt and Jacob could feel all that mess spread against his butt cheeks and all over. He couldn't believe this. Then all of a sudden his tummy was upset. He made lots of farts then ended up adding his own messy load to the diaper the girls used. All the girls laughed and took pics. Jacob could only try his best to hide his face but the damaged was already done.
  5. (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.
  6. Aizawa Shouta had everything under control. He’d set up the nursery, complete with immensely thick diapers covered in babyish designs and locking, frilly pink plastic panties with matching locking mittens near the fully-stocked changing table. He’d gotten the crib ready, the mobile with cartoon cats spinning above it idly, and multiple babyish dresses and little girly outfits were hung in the closet. He made the ad requesting a babysitter for a naughty sissy baby, who needed locking panties and locking mittens so he wouldn’t take off his diapers. He said that the sissy had to be either triple or double-diapered at all times, so baby wouldn’t make big messies on the floor. Aizawa specified that the sissy baby could be fussy, and cautioned the babysitter that he could act like he was a big strong adult but the babysitter could cure him of that by making sure he knew he was just a sissy baby boy. He said that sissy already has long hair, so curling it or making it all pretty would be easy. Aizawa noted that it was expected he be paraded around outside or shown off because he has to know what a cute little sissy he is, and that he couldn’t be allowed to disobey, no matter what. However, his ad was sabotaged by his target, who inserted his name as the name of the “naughty sissy” who was in need of a Daddy.
  7. Anyone wh read this Knows about babydolls and what they are not. The babydoll set used to come with ful-cut panties that would cover a diaper and rubber panties, with about 5 rows of lace ruffles all the way around, and the babydoll would cover them, about halfway to the knee so that the tip of the middle finger would touch the hem if the arems were by the girl's sides. like this As you can see, the very full double-diapers and panties are covered, albeit barely, which makes the babydoll a posture training garment Of late, the last 4 decades or so something else has come into existnce calling itself a babydoll but is nothing that would be on a proper girl This obviously is too short to cover a full-cut ruffled panty or thick diapers and a rubber panty, leaving maybe a sicth of it visible. This would be the perfect idea for a "sissydoll". Something that would let the pany, either ruffled or rubber,
  8. BritneyCD

    pty01.jpg

    From the album: Sissy Side

    My first of hopefully many pics.
  9. BritneyCD

    dpr5.jpg

    From the album: Britney

    My first of hopefully many pics.
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