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Authors note This just a story that came to me this morning. It takes place in PrincessPottyPants's Diaper Dimension setting. All characters are in their 20's or older. It's probably just going to be a short story, I don't have any plans for it and I can't promise that I'll be inspired to write more. But I hope you enjoy it and I appreciate any critiques and responses. Fair warning, my writing is pretty rusty so there's bound to be some mistakes (especially if I don't go over it before posting). Also I have anxiety so I'll do my best to respond, just know I tend to be awkward ?. Prelude Marietta shut her eyes and wished she could cover her ears. The sharp laughter was deafening and pierced her deeply. How had she gotten here you ask? She had thought she was safe. Not only had she thought she was safe but she believed it and acted accordingly. One of the biggest mistakes a Little could make, and she had done it so confidently. Her mind kept replaying the events of the day in little bursts she couldn't control. Not being in control is something she will have to get used to, because she will never know it's freedom again. Chapter 1: Winter's Lament The morning had started off better then it had for a while. Spring was finally starting to show itself. Winter was still clutching on to the weather, not quite ready to go into hibernation. But, Winter's time was coming to an end regardless of it's desperate attempts to live on. This duel of the seasons left the mornings chilly and the afternoons warm, the perfect amounts of cold and hot. Marietta had come to hate Winter and it's bitter cold that left her miserable and desperate for warmth. So, while she didn't care for the rainy and allergy ridden Spring, she was ready to embrace it like a long lost friend. Marietta yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the shrill sound of her alarm clock dutifully made sure she was awake. "Hey Hewie, stop alarm." She told her AI Assistant as she got out of bed and stretched. "Okay, stopping the alarm." The little pink cube on her desk responded. Looking out her open window she felt an inner peace, today would be a good day she decided. Or at least far better then yesterday had been. The warmer weather seemed to chase away her negative thoughts and depressed mood. She knew it was only temporary, but it was still refreshing to have them at bay for now. "Hey Hewie, what's the weather today?" She asked while brushing her long curly black hair. "Right now the weather in Poptonia is 56 degrees, but it feels like 53 due to wind chill. The low for the day is 56 while the high is 73. There's a low chance of rain today." The promise of good weather brought a smile to the little woman's face. Today would be a good day to revitalize her garden. While it had snowed very sparsely this Winter, she had neglected to take any steps to protect her garden during the cold months. This meant she would have to put in extra effort to get it up and ready as quick as possible. Gardening was much more than a hobby for the little greenhorn, it was her lifeblood. Grocery stores are notorious for being a dangerous place for littles, especially if they go alone. Her garden helped her get all the fresh vegetables, fruit, and herbs that she would need for the year. Everything else she ordered online, but fresh food was something you couldn't trust to an online delivery service. If an Amazon or Tweener delivery driver found out they were delivering to a Little, they could tamper with the food and the Little would be none the wiser. That is, until they ended up having a massive 'accident' from the laxative that was injected into the food. Of course it would only be a few moments before the delivery driver, or someone sent on their behest, came to 'help' the poor Little. Helping them out of their soiled underwear and right into a nice thick diaper. Marietta shook her head to stop herself from ruminating on the unfairness and dangers of the life she lived. She was determined to use the nice weather as a springboard for positive thinking and a happier mood. Spring was for the right and now, it was for admiring the roses and enjoying life. Winter was for the past, nursing old pricks, and surviving. To cement her determination to a brighter day, she decided to wear some brighter colors then usual. The jeans she slid up over her bright pink panties were a nice deep blue. They would've looked better if they hugged her curves and showed off her long legs, but she couldn't take that risk. With them being baggy no one could tell what she was wearing underneath. She knew it was safer, and smarter, to wear a Pull-Up, but she couldn't bring herself to do it today. That would certainly tank her mood, and it would be a constant reminder of her place in this cruel world. Which, she was certain, was the whole point of the Amazons wanting her to wear them. To an Amazon a 'mature' Little didn't need diapers, and while their undergarments weren't policed like those of 'immature' Littles, a Pull-Up was a true sign of a Little's 'maturity'. Without one she was making herself vulnerable to Pull-Up Preachers and accusations surrendering her maturity. If the price of being happy for the day is a few minutes of being uncomfortable, that's a price she's willing to pay. In theory the baggy jeans are supposed to protect her from such experiences, but in practice Amazons were free to 'check' her if they wanted to. Even though there weren't any laws, or rules at her college, that demanded she wear protection, her Amazon teachers were still allowed to feel her up and openly embarrass her. After all, it would be their classroom she would 'ruin' or interrupt if she had an 'accident' due to not being properly 'protected'. And of course, 'Amazons Know Best', meaning they're always right and can get away with practically anything. After spending a few minutes perusing her closet, Marietta finally finds a suitable top. She slides the deep red blouse over her lacey pink bra. The short sleeved blouse was loose enough that it doesn't show off her breasts, and 'mature' enough that you can tell she's an adult. If she wore something that hugged her curves or showed off her breasts it would only be used against her by an Amazon hoping to adopt her. They would say she was trying so hard to look like an adult that she didn't care how 'risque' she looked. The cherry on top would be a comment along the lines of how she doesn't have very much to display anyway. She finishes off her look with a dark green cardigan, black sneakers, silver stud earrings, and a simple silver sun necklace. If she wears colors that are too bright it will invite an Amazon to imagine her in colorful baby clothes. If she wears too much jewelry, or if it's too loud in color or design, it would bring comments of how she's trying to hard or how cute she is. The life of a Little is one of meticulous planning and preparing. Grabbing her bookbag and a premade breakfast shake, Marietta steps out of the safety of her home, prepared for the beauty and potential dangers of the day. A hard slap on her bottom drags her back to the present, where she should be. After all, Winter is for the past, and despite all the mourning, Spring is here and it's time for the here and now. An involuntary whimper escapes from the little woman, drawing more of the deafening laughter. Opening her eyes Marietta's attention is greeted by hungry eyes and toothy grins. Awaiting her are dozens of grasping and wandering hands as their owners are desperate to take part in her torment. "Stop squirming!" The booming voice shouted at her. She couldn't think of who the voice belongs to, but she was sure it sounded familiar. In fact, she can't think of anything. Time feels excruciatingly slow and everything has a blur to it, not a single thought bubbles to the surface of her mind. A numbness seeps through her entire body, and her head feels weightless. Staring into the distance, Marietta is once again swept up into her memories, and away from the nightmare that is the here and now. *authors note* Okay so I'll definitely write another chapter because I have more ideas for this. Also while I do love a good cliffhanger, I hate unresolved ones and unanswered questions. But i have no idea when I'll write/post more, so I'll see you when I see you! ❤️ I don't have any experience posting in online forms/rooms like this so any advice relating to format and suggested tags would be appreciated as well!

Ryoko was fuming as she walked to Washu's lab. Nine months of carrying Tenchi's baby girl, Rika, and Washu had the nerve to send her and Tenchi to Jurai, allegedly to meet Funaho, and ask her to come have a "class" on child reering. To make matters worse, Ryoko was doing this with Ayeka, who had also had a baby with Tenchi, Achika, but at least Misaki will have a ball playing with the babies. She saw Ayeka and groaned. "Look," Ryoko said as Ayeka glared at her. "We just have to stomach whatever Washu's planned for us and go back to normal once Tenchi comes back with the kids." "All right." Ayeka sighed. "For Tenchi and the girls." "For Tenchi and the girls." Ryoko agreed. Ryoko opened the door, and they headed into Washu's lab. As they entered the garden, they saw Washu at her computer as usual before she stood up, smiling. "Now then ladies," Washu said enthusiastically. "What we're going to do is teach you two about raising children by example." "So what?" Ryoko asked. "You're gonna have us care for dolls?" "No." Washu said with a familiar smirk. "I'm going to show you what being a helpless little infant is like." "Well," Ayeka said smugly. "Ryoko surely needs such extreme measures, but I don't!" "Ha!" Washu shouted. "Yeah, right." Washu pushed a button on her computer, and the two were grabbed by various mechanical arms. The arms brought the two to Washu's proper lab and hovered over a dark cube. "This will teach you how easy it is for a baby to be shaken up." Washu explained. Ryoko was then dropped into the cube as it lit up for Ayeka to see a gaggle of mechanical arms. Ryoko groaned as she felt herself moving backwards before she looked behind her to see a buzzsaw. She ran for dear life but didn't get any further as she realized that she was on a conveyor belt. She saw Washu on a screen and smirked and pulled a lever as a boxing glove hit Ryoko in the gut and knocking her into the saw. Ryoko screamed and leapt up as Ayeka was dropped down. Ryoko slammed her head into a winch that shoved her into a high chair with a hole in the bottom that left her butt sticking out. The tray then snapped into place, trapping Ryoko in the chair. A pair of clippers then came up and shaved Ryoko bald. "You bitch!!" Ryoko shrieked, not caring that she could regrow her hair once she gets a minute. A rack of rolling pins then come up and hit Ryoko in the head to the tune of "Pioneer". The chair then pulled Ryoko over to a rack of boots that kick her in the butt to the same tune. Eventually, the tray released just as the last boot kicked Ryoko away. While all of this was happening to Ryoko, Ayeka was crawling on the belt to avoid a paddle wheel that had replaced the buzzsaw, thankfully. Again, Washu pulled the lever, but this time, two mechanical arms held Ayeka down as the paddles continually spanks her until Ryoko was kicked out of the high chair, and the arms tossed Ayeka upwards. After Ryoko was flung out of the chair, she landed head first into a hole as her neck was clamped in place while a pair of boxing gloves began punching her in the face and the back of her head. While Ryoko was being punched, Ayeka slammed into the winch which pushed her into the chair before Ayeka was clamped in place by the tray and shaved bald. "I beg your pardon!" Ayeka shouted. "Just what is the meaning of this, Washu?" "To have less cushioning." Washu explained. "For what?!" Ayeka asked. The rack of rolling pins then came down and hit Ayeka in the head until she began drooling from all the head trauma. Ayeka was then moved to the boots and kicked in the butt, making her start crying. "MAMA!!!" Ayeka shrieked. After Ryoko's second beating, the clamp was released, and a pair of arms came down and picked Ryoko up and lifted her to a barrel of yellow liquid. Ryoko was then stripped naked and dunked into the barrel several times before she was lifted out. She suddenly realized that she felt much weaker. She wiggled her legs and was relieved that she could still move, though she was still not liking losing her strength. Once Ryoko was lifted out of the hole, Ayeka was kicked into it. She was then clamped in place, and the boxing gloves began punching her in the face and the back of the head. After Ryoko was dipped in the liquid, the arms brought her to a table that had folded out, and she was placed on it with the arms holding her firmly in place. Another pair of arms came up and lifted her legs up before setting a cloth diaper down. She tried to struggle, but in her weakened state, the arms didn't budge. She then got her butt liberally sprinkled with baby powder, and the diaper was folded around her crotch before it was held in place with a safety pin. Ayeka, meanwhile, was crying worse than ever as she was picked up by the arms, stripped naked, and dunked into the barrel of yellow liquid, with her swallowing a good deal of it. The liquid rendered Ayeka barely able to move as she finally began calming down. Ryoko was finally brought to a crib and set into it as she got a blue baby bonnet with pink frills tied onto her head. Ayeka was being powered and diapered as this was going on, with Ryoko watching as she grew her hair back. However, it did nothing to loosen the bonnet. Ayeka was placed in a crib next to Ryoko and given a purple baby bonnet with blue frills as she grabbed the rails of her crib and pulled herself up to stand unsteadily next to her. The cribs began to rise out of the cube, and Ayeka shrieked, grabbing Ryoko's hair and making her call out, making Ayeka giggle before Ryoko slapped her diapered butt, making Ayeka whimper before they were brought to Washu's screen. "Well let's see what we've learned." Washu said as she snapped her fingers, and Ayeka's brain trauma was fixed. "Big deal." Ryoko groaned. "Babies are sensitive! We knew that." "And I didn't appweciate being hit on the head so much!" Ayeka shouted before gasping. "My voice!" "That'll be the numbing agent to make sure neither of you break anything." Washu explained. "As for the head hitting, think how bad it'd be if one of you lost your temper and hit one of the girls." The two groaned, knowing she was right. "Now," Washu said. "The rest of the lessons are hidden throughout this part of the lab." The arms deposited Ryoko and Ayeka on the floor. "Look around and have fun." Washu said with a smirk. "They aren't all torturous." To be continued...

Hi there! This is about a fictional ABDL community that I'm working on. It features adults who live in a kinky community for ABDLs. Everyone is over 18. I have about 10 chapters done and will be posting them here over time. Here is a detailed disclaimer that talks about the content and themes of this novel:: https://www.patreon.com/posts/65186383 Content Warnings Extensive Diaper Use (Wetting and Messing) Extensive Regression themes Extensive Sexual themes Adult Nursing CNC Spanking/Corporal Punishment/Orgasm Control-Denial/Chastity Bullying and teasing Humiliation ------- Previous chapter is here: --- Chloe sat on the stool in the upstairs preschool playroom and fumed. She turned her head, slowly, inching her chin millimeters at a time to make it seem like it wasn’t moving at all. The clock was directly behind her. “Chloe, face the wall,” said a voice from behind. It was the voice of Mr. Hentier, the grownup in charge of this section of the playroom. “If I have to tell you again, you’ll stay there longer.” She snorted and returned her head towards the dull pink walk ahead of her. Whatever. Without being able to see the clock, Chloe guessed that only ten minutes had passed. That meant another twenty remained. Well, twenty minutes remained on the stool, though her discipline wasn’t going to end there. What a fucking baby, she thought. Tattling because she’s a big crybaby and can’t handle the truth. Chloe had been rudely disturbed during her nap, and had to make things clear. She stayed under her covers, because her covers were the best thing available to help shield her nostrils. She yelled and screamed with righteous fury. These miserable two months could not end fast enough! Her roommate gave it back (though with tears) until a stern knock came at the door. Not waiting for permission to enter, as the two women inside were merely preschoolers, Mrs. Marath burst in. “I’m bigger than she is,” Chloe said, whining when Mrs. Marath began ripping the covers off and grabbing at her arms. The smell was even worse without the covers on her face. “She’s lying.” “Oh, nobody cares,” the grownup said, annoyance dripping from her words. “Behave more, then. Then maybe someone will believe you.” Chloe had still pleaded her case while she was marched down the halls of the Preschool in pajama pants, which did a poor job of covering her Todders, and a black bra. Mrs. Marath hadn’t even given her time to put a shirt on. She was dressed like a goddam Nursery stinker. “She pooped in the room,” Chloe pleaded. “I told her to get out and that she was a baby.” “And that’s all you said?” Mrs. Marath laughed. “You want to keep going? I haven’t decided how many spankings to assign you. And besides, I don’t see pullups on that bottom of yours yet, so you shouldn’t talk.” Chloe held her tongue. Everyone agreed that it was a faux pas to mess in a Preschool dorm room. Hell, it was frowned on in Daycare, so even though Jaclyn was essentially a Daycare baby at her core, she still should have known. It wasn’t even her first time in two months. Sometimes, in cribs, people couldn’t help it. But in Preschool there were beds, and there were always nighttime grownups to help find a potty in a pinch, if you pressed the button in the hall. This, though, was a midday mess. Unacceptable really. Jaclyn had gone out of her way to do it or take her business to the room and stink it up and Chloe had told her so. If she said dumb or bitch or shit pants thumbsucker, that was what Jaclyn likely needed to hear. Go ahead, little crybaby. Tattle on me for being a big meanie. Just make sure you tell them why I was a meanie. Then we’ll see whose reputation stands in the long-term. Oh right, nobody is going to care about you because you’re going back to the DAYCARE! There was a boy beside her, sitting on his own stool, also staring at the wall. His name was Karl, and Chloe did not know him well. He wasn’t new to Preschool, in fact he’d probably been here for the last year and a half, the whole time she had. Maybe even longer. But he was quiet and uninteresting and she didn’t find him altogether attractive. A waste of a man in pullups, really. He’d been sitting on the stool since before Chloe had been brought into the playroom, and Chloe had overheard that his crime had been skipping his chores. As boring a sin as he was a person. Chloe wasn’t sure what the Nursery penalty for skipping a chore was, she wasn’t even sure Nursery babies could tell time. But in the Daycare and Preschool, truancy called for a spanking after a timeout. And Chloe knew that well because she’d been on one of these stools for the same thing just yesterday, and she had had a makeup chore this morning because of it, and after she completed it, she would still have to plead to her room grownup Mrs. French to get her outdoor privileges back. Though Jaclyn’s crybabyness probably caved any hope of that until at least tomorrow. At least Chloe had a good reason to get in trouble. Mr. Hentier walked over to the stool area to fetch Karl. Chloe watched him stand and follow the grownup out of her sight. She made sure not to turn around too much to bring the grownup’s wrath once again. The pair did not walk far, and Chloe heard them clearly. “You’re wet,” Mr. Hentier said. “I’m sorry,” Karl said. There was no more on that topic. His pullup, in addition to his shorts, was going down around his ankles too, right there in the playroom. “You need thirty,” Mr. Hentier said. And then he began to bring the palm down on Karl’s bottom. Hentier brought it hard, and the smacks were loud and crisp on the man’s bottom. The punishment stools of the upstairs playroom were located along one wall, right beside the potties. Both of the Preschool playrooms were considerably smaller than the massive ones that could be found in the Daycare. Even the smaller Daycare playroom dwarfed both of the Preschool playrooms. The Preschool building lent itself to smaller alcoves and quieter spaces. It had a large upstairs library, which was the only library in all of Nurserton. There were more changing rooms, rather than theme-park sized ones in Daycare. Occasional potty rooms were sprinkled throughout all of the floors in a far greater density than could be found in Daycare. They were still the bowls on the floor potties though. Flushers were for Juniors and grownups only. Chloe could hear the conversation in the playroom behind her. Preschoolers, overall, were a disappointing bunch. There wasn’t a whole ton of difference between what Preschoolers did for leisure, and what Daycarers did. Games, baking, watching Disney, taking naps (this wasn’t so bad). They just did the same things, but did them in slimmer, less stinky diapers. Karl’s spankings punctuated the din of a crowded playroom. Perhaps about two dozen other Preschoolers were in there now, but many of them hushed to watch Karl get a spanking. Karl’s punishment was over as soon as it began. Chloe knew it wouldn’t feel that way though. There were footsteps and rustling as Karl got dressed. Mr. Hentier would be taking him to the changing room down the hall. She waited, counting in her head and imagining the distance it took to get from the punishment area, across the playroom, and through the door. She turned her head to look at the clock and her surroundings. Fifteen minutes left, she saw. She also saw that the playroom had gotten a bit more crowded than it had when she was first marched in here. A group of Preschoolers were watching Star Wars, almost a dozen were having a very elaborate tea party. Two women were having a handstand competition, their skirts flipping to reveal their diapers underneath. A bunch of babies were nearby her in the lounge playing a card game, probably Magic the Gathering. Beside them was a single woman, sitting in a chair with her legs crossed, meeting her eyes over the cover of a book. It was Jessica, one of the few special ones. The soon to be Juniors. Chloe almost wanted to laugh every time she saw her. It was earlier this year when Jessica had been dragged out of the outdoor pool with a stinky swim diaper, and the pool had only opened in early May. Jessica had no chance in undies. “You’re supposed to be turned around,” Jessica said, folding her book closed on her lap. Chloe stuck her tongue out back at her. She didn’t turn her head back for her, though. Chloe knew that Mr. Hentier would soon be back. When exactly he did, Chloe couldn’t be sure. That he had shoes on barely made a difference against the carpeted floor of the playroom, and grownups were just averaged sized adults after all. But then she heard uppity Jessica’s voice. “Chloe turned around for a while,” she said. “Did she?” answered Mr. Hentier. His voice got louder. “Did you turn around Chloe?” “No,” she said. “She’s lying, ask anyone.” “No, I believe you,” he said. Then the footsteps got louder. Chloe heard his clothes rustle. The pink on the wall became purple as his shadow cast over hers. “You earned fifteen more minutes, and it’ll be more if you argue.” Chloe didn’t even nod. She sat and stared at the wall and fumed. Stupid Jaclyn and stupid Jessica. They were friends, that’s what it was. They were both sitting together at breakfast this morning, they were often together. Probably met as thumbsuckers in the Daycare together or something. Daycare babies who couldn't cut it always stuck together. They liked to hold hands as they rode the elevator back down to stink town. Jessica included. Jessica very much included. Who did she think she was? She wasn’t even a Junior yet. She’s probably all hopped up on her newfound power. The little bed puddler. Whatever. It’s just a half hour. At least she wasn’t getting locked in her room. She felt her diaper through her pajamas. It had been a little wet, and her last change had come before lunch, towards the end of potty training. She’d pooped on the potty at the beginning of class and got a star, and then she wet for the rest of class until she needed a change. She’d wet at lunch, and the grownup who checked her as she left the cafeteria let her go. After that, she went back to her room to take her nap, during which she wet again. She woke up to pee; she wasn’t a bed piddler, though she’d barely gotten to drift off to sleep again before Jaclyn came in to crap her pants. Now, probably no more than an hour since the end of lunch, she had to pee again. She let it go. She’d hit her twenty stars a few days ago anyway. The minutes ticked away, though they did so in secret, somewhere behind Chloe. Timeout can, at times, represent its own sort of sedentary adventure, and sure enough, Chloe did not spend long alone. Two women were brought this time, and Chloe felt confident enough to crane her neck to look at them. Penny was the one whom Mr. Hentier sat down just beside Chloe, a tall brunette, strong and rather intimidating, who always wore pigtails and was the poster child for big-but-not. Yes, Chloe knew that someone foolish, like a Jessica, might think that it was herself that was the biggest hypocrite in the whole building. But it was Penny. Chloe, at least, never lied about having earned pullups. She was honest about that, not just because she didn’t actually want pullups, but because she didn’t care about being the biggest. She admired Sofia, another Preschooler, who never did her number #2 in the potty and earned all her stars the hard way, simply because she found the whole concept of using the plastic potties repulsive and decided to use them as little as possible. Chloe sympathized with that. Penny was the type of baby who couldn’t see how Sofia or Chloe was bigger than her, and even when backed into a corner with all the evidence that her few dalliances in pullups didn’t amount to much, she still wouldn’t. To take shit from Penny was all the more annoying because Chloe had her own, very valid reasons for being ‘below-average’. Below average, at least, as the Preschool went. The other woman sent to the stools was Ariba, one of the youngest people in the entire village. A fresh, fresh, 21-year old. Chloe would only learn later that Ariba was there for pouring a bowl of cereal, milk and all, down the back of someone’s diaper. Mr. Henriet sat her on Chloe’s left, so that Chloe was the prisoner in the middle. “Mr,” Penny said, seated upright on her stool, “I have to go potty.” “You know the rules,” Mr. Henriet said. “I really have to go,” she said. “You should have done that before you started playing with yourself,” he said. Penny turned herself and stomped her feet. “Please! I need my stars!” No you don’t, Chloe thought. You coulda shit in the potty in PT today. Penny hadn’t. During PT, during Simon Says, Penny had bent forward and filled her diaper, and then kept on playing. Before that, multiple grownups had all but led her to the toilets and asked her (as they asked everyone) if she had to go. She’d said no. Penny was doing worse than even Jaclyn, as she often did. The only difference was that Penny always managed to offset her failures with a passable month, though just barely. It was no secret that if Penny ever missed the mark and was finally put in Puffington Pluses, she’d never climb back out of Daycare. Mr. Henriet walked away after only saying to Penny what everyone knew he’d say; “Hold it, you’re a big girl.” That was the rule. In the Daycare they’d swoop you off a timeout stool to carry you to the potty, and sometimes even knocked time off a timeout for potty success. In a world of stinkers like Jaclyn, grownups had to cherish every poop that got in a potty. In Preschool, you held it through your timeout. Penny crossed her arms and huffed. A few minutes later, Penny put both hands on opposite ends of the stool, lifted her bottom up, and did her business. Chloe watched it all happen and then buried her head in her hands. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, loud enough for Penny to hear it. All she did though was hold her chin high in the air and examine her personal piece of the pink wall. A whisper came from Chloe’s other side. “Who did that?” “Who do you think?” Chloe complained. “You,” Ariba said. “Eat me,” Chloe spat back, still in a whisper. “I don’t pay to eat pussy,” Ariba snarled. “Especially not from a bitch like you.” The grownup’s voice, now tired, rose up from behind him again. “For God’s sake ladies,” he said. “No talking! How hard can this be!” Chloe chewed on her tongue, but couldn’t help herself. “Ariba called me the b-word!” Ariba groaned from beside her. Mr. Henriet could be heard growling behind them. Once again he crossed the carpet to reappear behind the ladies. Chloe began retelling the events, starting from Penny’s accident. “She’s leaving out that she said ‘eat me,” Ariba said, taking both of her hands and karate chopping her own diapered crotch. Mr. Henriet registered this in silence. “Did you say the b-word?” Ariba considered for a moment, and looked at Chloe. Then she turned her head toward Mrs. Henriet. “Sure did. Didn’t stutter one bit. Bitch bitchy bitchy-ass bitch bitch assbitch poopybitch little pussy is a coin slot bit..,” Mr. Henriet did not listen to any more. In one motion he scooped Ariba up. He lifted her off the stool and into the air. Ariba laughed like a crazy person. Chloe watched, breaking the head-turn rule once again, as Ariba was hauled over his knees, as her diaper was ripped off and the spankings began. He didn’t even ask her to count, he just began…bam bam bam! They were serious and they snapped. He covered thigh and upper cheek. Ariba laughed through the first fifteen until she started to squeal and cry. Now and then Henriet would stop and tell her to hold still. Eventually, he asked her if she was sorry. “Didn’t stutter one bit,” she said, through tears. The spankings resumed, and come the end, that moment of continued defiance would turn out to be only the halfway point. Ariba soon began to bawl as if Mr. Henriet’s hand was in fact a hot poker, branding her bottom with every slam. The 21 year old would not return to the stools. Instead, Henriet would fix up her diaper and send for an attending Junior, who would take Ariba back to her room. Ariba was in for a decent grounding, which would start with room-confinement until possibly dinnertime. Chloe would receive yet another fifteen minute extension for her poor choice of words, which was even worse because of Penny’s stink. Worse yet was that Penny only had a twenty minute timeout, meaning that she’d be let off the stool without a spanking and taken to the changing room before Chloe was off. The spanking finally came, after an hour on the stool. Chloe’s lower back hurt, as did her thighs, though she didn’t know why. She’d know why soon enough. Henriet took her to the wooden chair he had set up beside the stools and had her stand in front of her while he untapped her soggy diaper (he checked for number 2 first, just to humiliate her). Chloe’s eyes met many of the other playroom denizens. The numbers had thinned since she’d been dragged into the playroom Mrs. Marath’s haughty storm. The heat of the high afternoon was passing and many of the babies had pilfered outside. Or, the juice and other drinks everyone had for lunch had done their work, and the changing room was packed. Chloe had thought Jessica had left, but there she was, pullups around her ankles, seated on a plastic potty with a Junior standing beside her. Oh, what a showoff. Chloe felt many eyes on her when her diaper came down, and the air in the playroom felt cool now that the warmth of her pee had fallen away. Her hair was trimmed to nothing, as was everyone’s who still needed diapers and pullups. It’s easier to change that way, but here, cheeks and lips out in the middle of a room that boasted a few dozen, Chloe felt even more naked. Mr. Henriet made sure she laid across his lap such that her butt faced the most populated angles of the room. He told her she’d have to count to 45, thirty for what she’d said to Jaclyn, and another fifteen for how she’d acted during her timeout. If she misbehaved on his knee like she had been since she’d been there, he warned, it could be more. After ten Chloe was already panting and closing her eyes before the hand came down. “Are you going to apologize to your roommate?” he asked. “Yes sir,” she said. His legs against her stomach made it hard to breathe. After 12: “Are you going to do it again?” “No sir,” she said. If Jaclyn doesn’t mess in the room again, I’ll hold off. After 20: “We’re going to use respectful words when we don’t like something, right?” “Yes.” “Yes what?” “Yes sir!” She was panting for real now. She wasn’t even halfway…though she would be if it hadn’t been for Jessica and Penny and Ariba. He’d switched to her thighs and back again, and everything was burning. After 25: “You’ve been a bad girl,” he said. After 26: “Where do bad girls belong?” “Right here sir!” Fuck that one hurt bad. After 31: “Where do you look when you’re in timeout?” “At the wall sir!” After a few more she bucked and almost slid off. Mr. Henriet didn’t scold her, and helped her readjust across her lap. Seeming to know she was nearing her limit, the last dozen were quicker pops. Built on the earlier spankings, these still stung. They would continue to sting for hours. Chloe’s misdeeds continued that day, though that was the end of what she was caught for. After her spanking, Mr. Henriet took her to the changing room. She had to watch Penny’s poopy butt get changed, making that the second such privilege this day alone. She didn’t see any of Jaclyn, not in the playroom, not with her best friend Jessica. Surprisingly, Jaclyn hadn’t been in the upstairs changing room, though Chloe supposed that more than an hour had passed since her faux pas in their dorm room. Hoping that Jaclyn was getting lost in the woods, Chloe returned to her room. When she opened the door, she found that Jaclyn wasn’t there. The smell was, though, but perhaps it was her imagination. She didn’t take her clogs off to step on Jaclyn’s bed to open the windows. That, at least, was fair. Chloe figured that she’d resume her nap, now that it was almost two hours after she’d tried to start it. Laying down felt better than sitting, after all, and a few more minutes of the breeze and Chloe’s room wouldn’t smell like poop anymore. Yup. It was Chloe’s room. Not Jaclyn’s. Jaclyn was meant for a crib. That was for sure. She took her skirt off and changed her shirt into something comfortable. She put headphones from the cabinet beneath her bed and laid on her tummy to avoid feeling the sting of her bottom. She procured an old iPod. A laughably ancient artifact by outside standards, it was a perfect one for Nurserton. It provided music, but no phone to the outside world. More importantly, there was no camera. She didn’t remember where she got it. That was the case for many of the things in her cabinet. And it would not be the case for something else. Chloe relaxed for a while, and then stood up and shut off her iPod. Yes, that would seem fair. She thought. She walked to the door and opened it. The hallway was empty, all she could see was a row of still doors. Ariba happened to be one of her neighbors, and hers was the only room where the light was on. The door wouldn’t be locked, but Ariba would be dead meat if she was caught coming out for anything less than a fire alarm. Chloe shut the door and returned to her room. It couldn’t be anything obvious, nothing that she’d wear on a regular basis; nothing that she’d notice anytime soon. Normally, nondescript and regular things were the best targets; like the headphones and the iPod. Even if the original owner had seen them in Chloe’s hands, as they had, in fact, they would have no way to prove the Chloe’s were indeed theirs. Often, they wouldn’t even suspect it. Fancy personal onesies and clothing items, things that Jaclyn had acquired plenty of over her time here, wouldn’t do. But this item needn't be for Chloe’s benefit. This was for Jaclyn’s loss. She reached into a drawer on Jaclyn’s bedside table. There she found Jaclyn’s jewelry box. She took it out and opened the latch. There was a little song that played when she did, something she’d heard and rolled her eyes at countless times. It was a little Disney song. It reminded Chloe of Cinderella. What a drooler. There, sitting on the side of the box was a smaller, inner box. She reached in and opened that box, black and felt, which housed a single pair of earrings…small and shiny, with a pink heart set in the middle. Chloe had seen many roommates get their demotions, and knew that in the craziness that the move entailed, baby Jaclyn wouldn’t have time to even open her jewelry box to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. Baby Jaclyn wouldn’t think of it until she was set up in her boisterous baby room, and then she’d suspect that she’d lost her precious earrings somewhere in transit. Even if she blamed Chloe, she’d never find them. Chloe left her room, diaper dry and ass sore, and marched off to her hiding place. She gave Ariba’s door a good tongue for posterity. The felt box was still in the larger singing jewelry box, which itself still remained in Jaclyn’s bedside drawer. Its contents, however, jingled in Chloe’s pocket.

This is my first story and I'm not a native speaker, so please be gentle. Tags: lesbian, wet, messy, diaper girl, humiliation, erotic, spanking Some tags will be relevant in later chapters. Dirty girl Megan comes home early and finds out her young flatmate is not as innocent as she thought. 1 - A surprise She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Megan had been home early and still not used to having a flatmate had wandered through to her bedroom to get out of her work clothes without announcing her presence. It came as quite a surprise when she walked by her flatmate's room and saw her, back to the open door, kneeling on her bed and humping one of her pillows. Not that she minded, in fact she was enjoying the show. She had been quite taken with young Lisa from the moment she walked into her life. She liked them young, shy and tiny and Lisa, barely 19 years old, fit that description perfectly. With her long blond hair, beautiful face and youthful body, she was very sexy, at least in Megan’s opinion. And here she was, humping her pillow, giving Megan the show of her lifetime. It had all started with a call from her mother, who had been living next to Lisa's parents for at least 20 years. They were good friends and when Lisa's mother had mentioned to her that Lisa wanted to move to Megan’s hometown to go to college there in fall, it had taken her all but a few seconds to suggest that Lisa rent a room in Megan's big condo. Megan herself had been here for the last 13 years, first for college, then later to work at the company she had been an intern for during her first years. It had been a small company at the time, but with some luck and the right strategy, they had risen to be one of the bigger employers in town. And with Megan being part of it almost from the beginning, she herself had risen to be one of the senior employees in the company, now being responsible for 20+ other employees. She had bought her condo only 2 years ago, giving herself the treat of getting the penthouse of the 4 story high building, which added privacy and a big balcony to the deal. It was almost too big for her alone, but she had fallen in love with it the moment she had stepped into it and bought it a short time later. She knew she could easily afford it so the decision had been easy. So she hadn’t been looking for a flatmate, not needing one and enjoying her freedom from her former flatmates, and had been less enthusiastic than her mother thought she would be, when she had told her about Lisa's plans. She had known Lisa since she was a baby of course, she even had babysat her from time to time. But it had been 5 years since they had seen each other, and now being 19 years and going to college, Lisa might have changed from little girl to a drug addicted goth for all Megan knew. It had taken her mother almost half an hour to convince her that Lisa was still the shy, pleasant girl she had been back then. They had agreed to Megan visiting her parents and having a talk with Lisa about her plans. That had been 3 months ago and it took Megan all but 5 minutes to decide that Lisa could indeed rent a room from her and that she would have to restrain herself from seducing the girl on her first evening there. Since then it had been a constant struggle for Megan to not be too obvious, not wanting to scare innocent little Lisa away. The same innocent little Lisa, who was now right before her own eyes, not so innocently humping her pillow while squeezing her small breasts and moaning like a pornstar. Megan couldn’t tear her eyes from the view, now leaning against the doorframe and starting to massage her own breasts through her blouse. She watched fascinated, as Lisa continued for almost a minute, then stopping abruptly and leaning slightly forward. At first Megan thought she had been seen and slowly backed away a few steps. But Lisa didn’t look at her or made any move at all, just leaning slightly forward. Then a grunt, and bending a bit further. Now it looked like she was having some cramp or pain. Megan looked on, now slightly concerned for the wellbeing of her flatmate. That is until Lisa gasped in relief and then started humping the pillow again in earnest. Megan looked on, now confused about that little interlude until it started again, Lisa leaning forward a bit more this time and now exposing her little butt to Megan. Megan almost gasped at what she saw at that moment, holding her hand over her mouth in shock. Lisa wasn’t wearing panties as she first had thought. They had looked a bit childish to Megan, with small animals printed on them. But now Megan recognized them as some kind of pull ups or diapers, and Lisa was right in the middle of filling them to the brim. It took her a few seconds more, then she gasped again and resumed humping her pillow. By now it had been a few minutes of Megan watching Lisa, and Megan was unsure of how to react, when Lisa’s moaning got a bit louder and then stopped suddenly. Looking up Megan saw her shaking all over her body and then slump forward, panting like she just ran a marathon. Megan was still confused but she knew she had to leave or Lisa would see her right away, which would be very awkward for both of them. So Megan slowly backed away towards her own bedroom, still somewhat unsure of how to react. When she entered her room, she tried to analyze the situation she had just seen. Was Lisa really wearing a diaper while she masturbated? It could have been some odd panties. But she had watched her mess herself. Could she just have misinterpreted the grunts? Perhaps she was in pain. But then Megan shook her head. No, she had seen what had happened. Hell, she had smelled what had happened. Little innocent Lisa had humped her pillow while wearing a diaper and messing herself, and from the looks of it, she had had quite the orgasm in the end. Who would have thought Megan thought to herself, now smiling and starting to undress from her work clothes. With the confusion and concern for Lisa out of the way, Megan's arousal came back with full force. It had been quite the show and to Megan’s own surprise, the kinky behavior of Lisa hadn’t been repulsive at all. When she had thought about scat and similar stuff before, it had been quite disgusting for her, not being sexy at all. Now looking back, when picturing Lisa with her filled little diaper on her pillow, it only added to Megan’s own arousal. She started squeezing her breasts again and it only took her a few moments to let one hand slip into her panties, which were already quite wet from the show earlier. With the picture of Lisa in her mind, she started masturbating again and it only took her a few minutes to finish with a very satisfying orgasm. An orgasm and a decision that would change hers and Lisa’s relationship quite a bit she knew. Megan had taken a shower in her ensuite afterwards and had put on some casual clothes again. Now she was hungry and went down the hall to the kitchen. When she reached Lisa's room, things were unchanged from when she had left. Lisa was still lying in her bed, fast asleep. Megan almost laughed when she saw it, but then she started thinking that this would be her perfect opportunity. She continued on to the kitchen and started making something to eat as fast as she could. A few minutes later she returned, now entering the room and sitting down right next to the girl on her bed. She was still sleeping, and Megan looked over her with hunger in her eyes. She would make Lisa hers, of that she was sure. And it would be so much fun to do it, too. Megan looked at Lisa's butt again and saw that her suspicions had been right. Lisa was wearing some pull ups, and looking at them from the side, Megan could see an opening in the back where the leghole was. Lisa obviously had made a big mess, bigger than what the pull up could handle and it had pushed back against the pull up so that she could see the mess from where she was sitting. It was quite a surprise for her to not be disgusted by this but to look forward to cleaning up her little dirty girl in the future. But that would have to wait, today Lisa would be very embarrassed and it would be Megan's first priority, to make her comfortable again, preferable in her arms. With a deep breath and steeling herself for what would come next, she gently touched Lisa on her shoulder, slowly caressing her down her arm and ending on her hip, just touching the side of Lisa’s diaper. “Lisa honey. Wake up, it’s time for dinner.” Lisa's eyes fluttered a bit and she started moving, but it took her a while to open her eyes and look around in confusion about what was happening. Megan smiled down at her and gently patted her on the hip. “Come on sleepyhead, it’s time to get up. I prepared dinner.” “What time is it?” “Almost 6:30. You were fast asleep and I thought you would like something to eat before you go to bed again.” Lisa smiled at Megan’s grin, knowing that she was just lazily wasting most of the day since she had assembled the last of her furniture in the morning, which had been quite tiring. “That and I think you need a change.” With that Lisa’s eyes flew open in shock. She had completely forgotten what she had been up to before she fell asleep and now it came back to her. And Megan had caught her. Slowly she was fumbling for her blanket to cover herself, knowing that it didn’t really matter anymore. Tears started running down her cheeks while she looked up at Megan with fearful eyes. “It’s alright, Lisa.” Megan was still caressing her side and now looked up, seeing Lisa’s hand becoming frantic in her search for her blanket. “Shhh, it’s okay. Here, let me help you.” With that, she pulled the blanket over Lisa’s still mostly naked body and then resumed gently petting her on her shoulder. “It’s alright, you’re not in trouble. I know you’re embarrassed, but I’m really okay with it. You know, why don’t I go back into the kitchen and look after dinner again, while you get up, go take a shower and then join me and have something to eat, okay? We can talk about it then.” She was looking into Lisa’s eyes and then nodded her head and with a small hug started to stand up and slowly leave the room.

Disclaimer: https://www.patreon.com/posts/65185502 Content Warnings Extensive Forced Diaper Wearing (Wetting/Messing) Extensive Public and Private Humiliation Extensive Corporal Punishment and Bondage Extensive use of the themes of fear, shame, guilt, and dread Some consensual sexual slavery/servitude themes Occasional Sexual Themes Occasional Sexual Intercourse ***I do not condone any of the events or themes in this story, and do not intend to glorify or advocate that anyone conduct their life in this way. Nobody should model any sort of erotic behavior on the events of this story.*** Previous chapter: ------ Lily rested her mop on her shoulder. After a moment with her eyes closed and her breath steady, she peed. Warmth surged out of her. It hit the front of her diaper like a tennis ball against a wall, and then it sloshed backwards beneath her. She took a deep breath. It wasn’t a good feeling. She didn’t like her pussy being dipped in a pool of her own hot urine. But it was a familiar feeling, and fleeting. The diaper absorbed it all to carry it like a pocket against her inner thighs. Whatever peeing used to feel like was a distant memory. Another inmate walked by, heedless of the wetness on the ground. The woman smelled like sweat. She smelled of worse things too. This inmate had clearly come from the yard, and brown streaks of dirt from the women's tennis shoes followed the inmate through the part of the block that Lily had been told to mop. Lily sighed and took the mop off of her shoulder. She held it over the bucket, wrung it out, and then plunged it back into the soapy broth. Clean the floor from Cell 230 to 260. That’s it. That’s all she had to do. So she set out to deal with the tracks left by the other inmate. She didn’t bother yelling at her. What was the inmate to do? It’s not like there was a mat by the big double doors that separated the interior of Cellblock A from the yard. One couldn’t leave shoes anywhere but in one’s own cell (against the wall, under the cot, if one didn’t want to anger a guard during an inspection). This wasn’t a house, where shoes were left by the door. This was a public place. And nobody cared whether or not the floor was actually clean. Lily did though, so Lily mopped. She started in the direction where the woman came from, towards the double doors to the yard. She wasn’t supposed to go beyond cell 230 with her bucket and mop, that wasn’t her job. Her job was to just clean the floor from Cell 230 to 260 and to do it, and nothing else, for an hour. That ‘nothing else’ included talking, but she spoke anyway. Other inmates that she knew would come by and they’d say hello. Sometimes they’d ask her if she knew where another inmate went, or if the guard walking on the upper deck was in a good mood. Those bad moods really mattered because that determined if even a little amount of conversation merited discipline. But almost always, even the surliest guards don’t feel like writing a discipline report on an inmate for some chitter chatter. That doesn’t mean they never did, no, they absolutely will at some point and there is also nothing to do about that. But there’s no point in living to avoid it. They’ll write up an inmate when they want to, and Lily had learned to accept it. She took a look at the nearby guard. He was a big man, and thick around the belly. He had a belt with a club in it, though she’d never seen any of them actually use those. He was up on the upper deck, and he looked like he had seen the same thing Lily did; a woman coming in from the yard in muddy shoes. He made his way to the nearby staircase and went in the direction of the orange-clad woman in muddy shoes. Mopping wasn’t enough to fully occupy Lily’s attention, even if it was difficult to make out the dirt footprints against the reflective surface of the floor. She felt like a tracker, following some wounded animal. But really, no, she felt nothing like a hunter. She felt more like a roomba, with wheels and an optical lens that could spot filth and hone in on it. Lily see dirt, Lily clean dirt. That’s what Lily is capable of. The guard disappeared into the cell where the woman had gone. Honing in to check that diaper. A different breed of roomba. He came out a few moments later, with the woman walking in front of him. The woman’s face was expressionless as she walked in front of the guard. Her diaper was thick. Its outlines were clear in front, and they puffed out the orange fabric of her jumpsuit. Lily’s was no better, no, Lily’s was worse. Most uniforms shrunk in the caustic detergent of the laundry rooms, though the tightness and revealing embarrassment around the crotch were always the least concerning aspects of the shrinkage. The outlines of the woman’s diaper were visible on her tummy, where the top of it stopped, and across her hips, even though the plastic wings of the diaper there were very thin. The woman looked uncomfortable as she made her way, and her gait had the tinge of a waddle to it. She had probably been like that when she came through Lily’s section of the floor before, but Lily had been too busy peeing to notice. She had noticed the woman’s smell, though, and it was no surprise that she was going where she was going. Not far away, towards the center of the cross-shaped block where Lily lived (and would continue to live) was a changing center. It was one of two in Cellblock A, the other being located symmetrically opposite across the rotund central area of the block. It was nothing more than an area blocked off by a low wall, with chairs oriented around a medical table. The woman walked there and sat down in one of those chairs. From Lily’s position in the middle of the hall, she could count maybe ten or so heads sitting in chairs just like that woman. She knew almost all of them (though this particular woman in the muddy feet was someone she wasn’t familiar with). They all stared blankly at the medical table, which featured another guard as well as a woman, an inmate, stark naked on her back. The best seats in prison. Lily watched as the guard began his return journey down the hall. His boots squeaked as he went. Lily looked at the path that the guard and the woman took. Another trail of muddy footprints crossed the space between 230 and 260. These were less visible, but Lily had little else to direct her attention towards. She made a mental note to mop down in that direction once she was done with the first set of footprints that the inmate had made. She doused the head of the mop once more in her bucket and made her way. One of the things to think about in Stenton, when there is just nothing else to think about, is when you’re going to get your diaper changed. To say that Lily was not resentful of the woman who had tracked dirt not once but twice through her section of the floor was an understatement. She was jealous. Jealous that the woman was now sitting in the changing queue. The best seats in the house. She’d be out of her diaper and she looked like she’d used it well enough to make the trip worth it. Did it suck to be over there, with the other women in the changing queue? Yup, always did. Did it smell bad to be over there? No doubt. It never smelled good when you sat down in a chair next to multiple other grown women in soiled diapers. Was it fun to be stripped while a guard draws wipes through your ass? Nope. Never was and never would be. But at least the full diaper would be gone, and that was something that the woman with the muddy feet could say that Lily couldn’t. Though it wouldn’t be long until a guard took her there either. Hopefully. Although you could always guarantee that at some point, for even the slightest thing, a guard might cell you and write you up, you simultaneously couldn’t guarantee that a guard would actually take you to the changing area. Whether or not a guard took an inmate to one of the changing stations around the block had nothing to do with what was in their diaper. Everyone was on a schedule, more or less. Even a quiet, boring, and ordered place like Stenton prison could experience enough chaos such that any schedule could become wildly unpredictable. When it came to changing, guards had a plan for the day, one they didn’t share, often not even with each other. All of them, though, agreed that the diapers were there for punishment, and that if a little chaos resulted in discomfort for the inmates of Stenton, then chaos was working as intended. There was no legal requirement that the part of Lily’s sentence that enumerated ‘three diaper changes a day’ had to be religiously followed. There was no independent committee that interviewed prisoners to make sure they were getting the appropriate amount of diaper changes a day, according to what their judge had ordered. Nobody cared, for one, and nowhere in Lily’s sentence did it say she had a right to any amount. It only said: In addition; Lily is to be diapered for the entirety of her incarceration. She will be permitted no more than three diaper changes in a calendar-day during the duration of her custody. This aspect of Lily’s punishment will begin with the issuance of this sentence. Indeed, she hadn’t. She’d lost track of the days long ago, but she knew without a doubt that she’d got no more than three diaper changes a day. The average was undoubtedly lower. There were days when she only got two. There had been some sticky, hot, itchy, mushy, smelly, sleepless days where she’d only got one. Three was just the ceiling. There were no four-change days in her memory to match any of the under-three days. The only thing keeping her at three at all was the guards, for following the rules was part of their nature. Lily’s lawyer had prepared her for sentencing, way back when. “They’ll probably give you two. We’re fighting for three.” “Why not four?” Lily said. Technically, five changes was a possible limit, but she knew enough to not hope for that. The lawyer shook her head. Apparently, Lily’s lawyer knew enough to not hope for four either. Lily was already convicted by that time, already in orange, already diapered. There had been a thick diaper waiting for her in the side chamber where they took her after they dismissed the jurors that had decided to convict her. She’d remembered holding it together in court but bursting into tears as soon as that huge white diaper came into view. Her bowels churned and her feet felt like lead in the bright concrete warren beside the courtroom. Her hands had been cuffed in front of her, and two guards on either side were holding her by her biceps. Their guidance was firm as they took her, almost limp, to the table. They took off her cuffs and stripped her… Her last use of the toilet had been so unceremonious. A rushed evacuation before it was time to listen to the prosecution put the cherry on top of Lily’s public evisceration. A few months later, with her jury long gone and presumably eating ice cream and tanning on the fine Shamurian beaches, her lawyer shook her head. “No, four would anger the judge,” she said. “Three is the best we get. We ask for four and we guarantee that the judge will give you two.” Lily understood negotiation well enough to agree with her lawyer’s logic. It was hard to sit there in the sentence proceedings (there were two appearances in court prior to her actual sentencing) and listen to her lawyer argue for three diaper changes a week. Especially since she was already wearing them in jail, between her conviction and her final sentencing. In jail, prior to sentencing, they gave her five changes, and that was already unbearable. Worse, she’d seen the path of many women whose trials had gone before hers. She’d seen them all try to adjust to four from five (most wound up getting four to five changes, but Lily was in for something more serious). All whined and begged and complained. “My client is sorry for what she did, she has expressed sincere guilt. This is her first mistake before the law, and she is going to vow that it never happens again.” It wouldn’t. It literally couldn’t. They’d made sure to take away Lily’s license to practice law as soon as they diapered her. “My client looks forward to her punishment,” her lawyer said. Lily remembered herself sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair for the first time not wearing a dress, but in the same kind of orange jumpsuit she wore today. She had tried to imagine that being true; that she was looking forward to it. Yes, I’m excited for what’s coming next. I woke up this morning in my jail cell in my diaper, and listened to the woman next to me in the van to the courthouse who told me that the smartest thing to do, if I could, was to shit myself as soon as I got off the van so I wouldn’t have to shit my diaper in court because they generally wouldn’t change me again until the whole day’s proceedings were done. I figured she was right, yet she was only half right. Piss and poop was in my diaper for an hour before they changed me to bring me out here. I just got my asswiped by a policewoman who thinks my buttcheeks need to be scrubbed like metal pan, and yes, I am looking forward to years and years more of this. “Lily understands that four changes a day is fairly prompt and she’s aware that her crimes are too serious for that, and she wouldn’t want her upcoming incarceration to be wasted on a punishment that isn’t severe enough.” Her lawyer spoke correctly, if inaccurately. No matter what, once convicted, it was best to prostrate yourself before the mighty righteous will of Shamurian society. Even if you plead ‘not guilty,’ you were supposed to be ecstatic and thankful that the good people of Shamuria had put you where you belonged. You didn’t have to believe it, but you had to say it. The prosecution argued for two changes a day. The prosecuting attorney, the winning attorney, was dressed impeccably and conducted herself with the same bright-eyed enthusiasm she had worn the entire way. She was young and Lily had overheard that her case was her first-ever as the lead attorney. The swagger she brought was contagious, and the jury had awarded her with a conviction. “Got the bitch!” The bitch was Lily. She was got. Lily picked at her hot wet diaper and took a break from mopping, resting the haft once again against her shoulder. She tried to recall the attorney’s name, but couldn’t. She must have been no older than twenty three at the time. Long straight blond hair, always wore a skirt to the knee and leggings. Designer jackets, glasses. More importantly, she had perfect pitch. She sang a lullaby to the jury in a manner Lily could only dream of. Her voice rose and fell as she unveiled fact after fact, damning Lily with every note. Two hours into the first witness hearing, and Lily realized she had worse odds than a lobster hovering above boiling water. She asked questions and left them unanswered, leaving the jury to contemplate Lily’s criminality on their own. She rarely pushed the line and the judge rarely had to scold her, whereas Lily’s lawyer had to fight tooth and nail for every edge. This woman doesn’t need a law degree, the young prosecutor had said during her closing statements. She needs diapers. And you’ve got a chance to put her in them for a long time. It took just two hours of deliberations, which is barely more than the time it takes for a jury to retreat into the decision room, have a snack, and run through the list of things they have to do. Fresh off cold-cut sandwiches and soda, the jury took advantage of their chance, and a diaper had been laid out for her in the processing room. Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! A win for Shamuria and humanity! Months later, when the number three came down from the mouth of the judge, the lawyer tried to be cheerful for Lily. It was as if to say, an average of eight hours in your piss and shit between changes isn’t so bad. Imagine if it was twelve! Yeah, it could have been six. It could have been less than five hours on average. But eight isn’t so bad. You’ll be fine. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yeah, you’ll have to sit in it for a while longer than you do now, but those two extra changes of five a day don’t amount to that much. It was the only thing that Lily could be cheerful at throughout the whole trial. Lily watched as a tall, slender woman exited a cell in the section she was assigned to clean. Her name was Lindsey, and like Lily and the other woman, she too was dressed in orange with an obvious diaper underneath. She stepped out onto the newly mopped floor and looked both ways, as if addressing a street that she was about to cross. In doing so, she made note of the guard, who had returned to his post on the catwalk. She looked at Lily too, and gave Lily a long, forlorn look until Lily turned away and pretended to be busy. Lily continued mopping and made a deliberate effort to not pay attention to the woman. Lindsey was a newer inmate, here for maybe three months at most, and was a four-changer. It was weird, how quickly you learned to remember how often someone got their diapers changed. But it mattered because it directly affected how pleasant they were to be around. Lily knew a few more things about Lindsey though, as she was one of the more famous residents of cellblock A. A television actress, Lindsey received a two year sentence for bribing an admissions office with cash to help get her daughter into an elite Shamurian university. Rumor was that wouldn’t be the end of it, as some of the other inmates claimed to have seen her get loaded back on the ferry, which either meant you were being freed or you were going back to court. In Lindsey’s case, it couldn’t be the former; she hadn’t been in Stenton long enough and judges never, ever, reduced sentences. Lily hadn’t seen her go, and hadn’t heard any concrete evidence of such happenings. But she did know that no matter what, whether you’re a five-changer or a one-changer, the only toilets in the building are located behind the huge blast doors for the guards. This wasn’t a guess. Inmates who had the misfortune to be taken through the doors reported that on the other side were a pair of men’s and women’s bathrooms, just for guards. Not really a big surprise, Lily saw no need to take her own trip through the doors to find out. One was never in a state of freedom when going through those. Just so, by standing in the middle of the hall, Lindsey had already internalized the dominant code of ethics among inmates at Stenton. You have to shit, so shit responsibly. Shitting at or after lockdown was a recipe for drama, as was doing it at mealtime. You tried to avoid doing it in your cell at all, unless you had a good reason. That rule was more up in the air, as sometimes avoiding a dirty diaper in the cell was a bit much to ask of one-changers. Everyone violated it at one point or another, sometimes simply because a lockdown could happen in the middle of the day. Lily had once been sitting in the changing area, one inmate away from getting her dirty diaper changed, when the alarm bell rang. She had to race back to her cell, her diaper still engorged and disgusting. That lockdown had lasted over two hours and her cellmate had to suffer through it with her. There were lots of reasons that could happen, some more forgivable than others. The rule was that you tried to avoid it. Lily saw out of the corner of her eye that Lindsey was still doing her business. It would seem odd to do it so blatantly, but it made perfect sense. She wanted to do it out of her cell, in a place where nobody would be surprised by her. Now and then that backfired, and a rowdy prisoner might point and laugh at a woman trying to be as obvious as possible so others could avoid her. Nobody wanted to come around a corner just to bump into a grown woman taking a dump in her pants. You learned to appreciate blatant evacuation as a global favor, as humiliating as it was. The most important thing, which Lindsey knew already, was to do it so the guards would notice it. Being obvious was great, yet being heckled drew even more attention, no matter how much it made you want to die. That was another part of it. The surest way to ensure that the guards don’t change a diaper is to ask them to change it. The surest way to sit in poop for the rest of the day was to see yourself to the changing queue on your own. As dirty as Lindsey was making her diaper, she wouldn’t be changed out of it until a guard decided it was time for her to sit in the chairs. Finally, Lindsey finished loading her diaper. She stretched, checked again to see if Lily was watching her, and then looked up once again at the guard. The guard, who had surely seen everything, didn’t react. Lindsey didn’t hide her dismay, and rolled her neck dramatically and sucked on her teeth. There was nothing to do, though. She fixed her uniform, pulling it out where it had gotten too snug around her crotch. She sniffed her hands. Then, pooped diaper and all, Lindsey walked gingerly towards the center of the cellblock, out of Lily’s area to clean. Lily’s chore continued. A rectangle that is fifteen cell blocks long is large, but not large enough to occupy her and her mop for an hour. To use up more time, she offered to mop the cells of inmates in that area. She didn’t go in any that were empty. Most waved her off or pretended not to hear her at her door. Some she avoided because she already knew the answer of the occupant inside. Some were asleep. But a few stepped out of their cells so she could clean the small floor that they nominally called their own. One of those women was Kimmi. Lily came across her, mop and bucket in hand, while she was kneeling on her pillow, which was placed on the floor. She was bent over a deck of cards that she had splayed out on her cot. The international card game of prisons…even diaper prisons: solitaire. “Yeah sure, though it’s the air that’s dirty,” she said. Kimmi laughed and hauled herself up. She pushed past Lily, and she crinkled as she went. Lily’s nose rankled, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “Don’t worry,” Kimmi said. “The bitch is on the dock.” Lily took this to refer to Kimmi’s cellmate, Rita. She didn’t need any reference to know what Kimmi meant by the dock. “Hope it hurts,” Lily said. Kimmi laughed again and nodded in agreement. Kimmi stood by as Lily mopped. The cells weren’t big enough for it to take too long, but Lily took her time. Why not take her time? Kimmi talked to her as she cleaned, despite the rule forbidding inmate job-conversation going both ways. Despite her soiled diaper, Kimmi had bubbling energy inside her, and she seemed to hum to a rhythm whenever she was silent. “I hear you got a whole hell coming to you,” Kimmi said, bobbing her head. Lily wasn’t surprised the word had already gotten to Kimmi. You’ll be fine. Just fine. A few docks is better than a lot. Four docks in a row is not a lot. Argue and you’ll get five, so shut up. “It won’t be so bad,” she said. “They going to break you up?” Lily hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know,” she said. “That’d be a bummer. Luckiest thing in this whole place finally coming to an end. You two have been bumping it forever.” Kimmi said. Then she opened her arms to envelope some of the bars that formed the open wall of her cell. “Come to mine,” she said. The notion that Lily had a choice of what cell the guards put her in made them both laugh. The comment had more meaning than a simple joke, but for now Lily preferred to treat Kimmi’s absurdity as simply that. “Come on. I only stink up the room to get back at Rita. You should hear her! It doesn’t stop at lights-out.” “I can imagine.” “She’ll be writing a whole slam book on me, you can be sure of it. She’s going to make a series about her awful cellmate.” Kimmi laughed again. “I can’t wait to read it.” Lily bent low to mop under Rita’s cot. Part of her wanted to rung the sodden head of her mop onto Rita’s bed. To leave a dirty and soapy mess so that Rita had nowhere to rest on her way back from the dock. But she thought better of it. She was in deep enough trouble as it was. “So, what do you think about rooming with me?” Kimmi asked, again. “I’m still rooming with Marji.” “Yeah but not for long.” “We'll still be together.” “Really?” Kimmi said. She narrowed her eyes as the true thrust of the conversation was laid bare. “They’ll be watching you.” Kimmy leaned against the bars and stared at Lily. Lily became hyper aware of her own contours under her orange jumpsuit. She’d never thought she’d be sexy again, though this concern didn’t arise until weeks after actually being put in diapers. In retrospect, it would have been wise to get some action when they still let her wear panties. One of her greatest regrets. There had been more important worries back then, though as a lawyer, she should have foreseen where it would all end up. Now her pussy didn’t know or had forgotten that she was in prison. Her pussy was the one that made her look forward to diaper changes not just so she could get out of the diaper she was wearing, but so that she could see the bodies of the other women without their jumpsuits and their own thick diapers. It could be a gruesome sight, at times, but you could always close your eyes for the beginning and just look when the woman’s bottom was cleaner. Most diapers weren’t like that anyway. It was a weird, discordant feeling, to be aroused in a place like a changing area. But it made a sick, twisted sense; her pussy had adapted to the situation. It’d taken much longer for her to realize that other inmates had accepted the same realities, that they’d learned to ignore the thickness of her ass and crotch, and the garish glare of perpetual orange. Her thighs and ass, covered in a diaper that she had been wearing since the morning and forced to move in and pump in as she sweated in her full length suit, hadn’t gotten used to it, like her pussy had. She wanted a change badly, which, conveniently, was what her pussy wanted too. Somedays, she wished she could be more like Kimmi. Kimmi was one of those rare few in Stenton who seemed to enjoy her time behind bars. Or at least she was able to tolerate it effortlessly. She’d been cheery from the getgo, quick to joke, quick to to laugh, and quick to stop taking pee and poop so seriously. How could she care what was in her pants? She was a one-changer. The answer to what was in her pants was almost never good. She’d openly estimated that she maybe spent less than an hour a day without piss in her diaper. She even didn’t care to admit to the other women that she was wetting the bed ‘involuntarily’ and that she was ‘definitely wetter when she woke up than when she went to bed.’ Even more, she’d turned a whole breakfast table red with embarrassment when she blurted that ‘masturbation felt better when the front was thick with pee because it gave you firm something to rub against.’ Kimmi could be a hoot around the dock, too. If she was on the benches, watching woman after woman get spanked and paddled on the dock, she’d call and cheer. Kimmi never did it maliciously (as some might be for Rita right now), but always in a way that, if it were you getting spanked, it made you feel better. Lily hated, most of all, that the pillories and the dock were in the very center of the block, but Kimmi made it bearable, provided she was there. Oh come on, that one was a little low! Swing batter-batter swing! Come-on tootsie keep that back straight we gotta see that roast beef. Yes girl! Lily likes it doggie doesn’t she? She’s doing a great job! Show us what you’ve been hiding in those diapers hun! Sometimes she would get other inmates singing so that the sounds of the smacking died away, even to the ears of the woman getting hit. Nobody ever minded the raucous atmosphere she could create, save the guards and the occasional women who still thought they could sleep through their sentence. The guards sometimes felt that Kimmi’s irreverence took away from the essentially punitive exercise, and they would cell her for the rest of the day. That only made the average inmate appreciate Kimmi more. Except for the Ritas of the world, of course. The inmate cheers were markedly different when it was Rita’s bottom up on the platform called the dock. The mood was a bit more in line with what the guards intended when Rita got spanked. So it was fine to be around Kimmi, even when Kimmi smelled like shit. She was the type of inmate that could make you forget there was a bag of piss around your waist and that it’d been years since you’d had a private moment of free access to your own vagina. Moreover, she was the type of gay that wasn’t a gayness of reluctance. Kimmi guessed that up to half of the women in the prison, at least, were willing, but very few were voracious about it. Like Lily, they’d sexualized what was available. The straighter girls relished those few moments on changing tables with male guards, doing everything they could to repress their extreme embarrassment and the awareness that the guard who was seeing her excrement couldn’t possibly find her sexy. They’d whisper to each other about the way he wiped. He lingered. He palmed my butt. Nobody ever had the heart to remind the women of what they already knew themselves. Well, Rita did, and gave everyone yet another reason to hate her. It mattered greatly to the straights what fantasy they could roll their eyes back into when the stiff and pissy diaper on their crotch was pressed into their clit by another female inmate. If they could believe that they were back on that table with strapping officer Sipho, if they could believe that the mouth kissing their breasts through their orange jumpsuit featured his stubbly lips, they could cum. Lily never disabused a straight woman of that fantasy. She knew best to melt away, to simply appreciate the time between her legs, even if she wasn’t thinking about Lily and there was nothing down there but diapers and urine to smell. When their half-assed efforts to help Lily cum in return brought them both to boredom, Lily was fine to leave. The memory and imagination of the straight woman’s genitals beneath all those layers and the memory of her convulsing body, were vivid enough for Lily to pleasure herself alone in her cot. But Kimmi meant it. Kimmi reciprocated. Kimmy sought it out and saw her as more than an elaborate vibrator which she could place between her legs while she fantasized about what lay behind the zipper of officer Sipho. Kimmi didn’t become ashamed and refuse to talk to Lily for weeks after one shared moment. She would be eager again and again until the guards hauled them both on the dock. And then some. “I think we’ll still be together,” Lily said. “We haven’t talked about it.” “What’s she doing?” “I don’t know. Probably celled,” she said. Marji had been in an equally bad mood since the guards had caught them on top of eachother yesterday. Knowing Marji, she’d lashed out and was sitting on her cot with a chain around her ankle. “Atta girl,” Kimmi said. “I’m not trying to steal her girl, you know,” Kimmi said. At this point, Lily was only pretending to mop. “No. I couldn’t imagine a lady with a diaper like yours would attempt to flirt with a catch like me,” Lily said. Kimmi laughed again. “Hey. If I waited to be clean to make my moves, my cunt would close up. You gotta know what you’re working with.” With this, Kimmi made a shimmy and showed her bottom to Lily, pressing it against the bars. It was a grotesque thing to do considering what Kimmi’s diaper had inside it, but Kimmi never shied away from the absurd. It was refreshing, even when it made Lily recoil in mock disgust. “Oh stop it,” she said. “Hey, your hour is almost up, by the way,” Kimmie said. She motioned to the clock that was high up on the wall at one end of the block. “You on one or two changes today.” “I’ve not been changed since just after breakfast.” And didn’t she know it. Her diaper was soaked, and she’d been holding number two since then. A guard had felt her ass right after the end-of-breakfast bell, before her meal had got things moving. She’d discretely pushed as he felt her, but all she managed to do was fart into his hand. It wasn’t atypical timing for a first change, and as a three changer she could expect to get changed in the two or so hours after breakfast. She preferred on the later end of that range, so she could get her movement going and so her first change of the day could be a dirty one. It didn’t always work out that way. “When they let you out, let’s get changed together,” Kimmi said. She didn’t mention let’s try to get changed together. Sometimes, it was nice to pretend that you had agency. Surprisingly, she was dead right. Lily’s diaperchange was all but assured after her chore was done. It was more than an hour after lunch now, and the guards went looking for the threes before and after lunch. Lily was probably one of the last threes to still be wearing her post-breakfast diaper, excluding those who’d been downgraded to twos for discipline. It sure felt like it. The ideal day, for Lily, was a late post-breakfast change, a late post-lunch change, and then a post-dinner change, so that she was fresh for lockdown. She rarely got all three in a day, but much of her excess effort was spent trying to orchestrate it. What else was there to do? She’d hide from guards before meals and find them after, when she was fuller. The goal was always to spend as little time as possible in full and dirty diapers. She doesn’t need a law degree, she needs diapers. She wondered if her jury thought of that when they considered her guilt. Yes, this woman needs her priorities narrowed down to nothing but a toddler’s mindset. Where to pee and poop most effectively. That’s where this grown woman, who once argued cases before a court, who survived three years of law school, who was about to make partner at just twenty-eight, belonged. That’s what her mind was really good for. Good mopping and good fecal logistics. “You just want to see me naked.” Kimmi craned her head. “It’s officer Billie at the table,” she said. “At least at the close one.” Lily stepped out of the cell with her bucket and mop and looked down the hall. She still knew most of the women sitting in the chairs there. Lindsey was there. The woman who’d tracked mud through her section was there too. She was the one on the table, but from their angle they could only see her large tits bouncing about as the officer Billie raised and lowered her legs. Way beyond, she could see the blast doors to the guard quarters. One of the doors creaked open, and a guard came through it and into the cellblock. The door shut lazily behind them, but the hollow slam reverberated all the way down to Kimmi’s cell. “Damn,” Lily said, looking at officer Billie. Kimmi allowed herself to be distracted by the scene for a few moments. For once, Lily knew Kimmi wasn’t looking at the bare-chested woman. She turned back to Lily. “Well get it done and stick together. You got five minutes so nows your time,” she said. She was very likely right. Five minutes left in her hour (which was almost all the time she needed to actually complete the job allotted for an hour), meant she should get to business. She was only relieved when a guard ordered her to bring her bucket and mop to the closet. Generally, a diapercheck would come after that. Lily had planned all along to poop right at the end of her hour. Her early change notwithstanding, and the squicky itchiness she felt right now (which was par for the course after the prosecution nailed her many years ago), today was fixing to be an efficient, reasonable day. The punishments for playing with Marji would not come until tomorrow. “Alright,” Lily said, and she headed out of the cell toward the center of the block, where Lindsey had pooped earlier. It also occurred to her that she had spent conspicuously long in Kimmi’s cell, and she was definitely pushing discipline if the guard on the catwalk was paying attention. Kimmi put a hand on her shoulder, though. Lily stopped, and watched where Kimmi pointed. “Do it on Rita’s bed,” she said. Lily turned. “Noo,” she said. “That’s a little much.” “Come on. She won’t notice it over everything else,” Kimmi said, waiving to herself. “Just give her a nice extra flavor to her pillow. You know she deserves it.” Kimmi’s suggestion was extreme. It represented a side to Kimmi that Lily had rarely seen. A ferocity and vengefulness that did not coincide with her general cheerfulness. But it still made sense to Lily. Loyalty and camaraderie were the root of Kimmi’s character. It was her and her girls against the bullshit. Rita wasn’t one of them. Rita with her horn-rimmed glasses, who paid the commissary extra to get her hair products, who threatened everyone with a salacious expose, who bragged that when she was out, the world would welcome her eagerly. Many of inmates, despite their lofty origins, knew that nothing waited for them but diapered slavery and middle-class employment. And even the best outcomes were still many, many years down the road. She’d even written about Lily. Before Rita had found trouble with the law, Rita made headlines finding out everything she could about other wealthy men and women who’d fallen out of favor with Shamurian society. Case Closed! Corrupt lawyer weeps and begs like a helpless lamb as she realizes the law is no longer on her side. “She really squirmed when we got her out of court. They’re all very emotional so we understand. But they have to learn quickly that if they fight us, we’ll change them less. We’ll keep that diaper on ice until the morning and she’ll understand what she’s in for.” It’d all been true. Rita had gotten to one of those guards and got the quote. Even the story about sitting in that first diaper until the following morning was true. At first, Rita’s own fall from grace was celebrated in Stenton. Then they met her, and realized nothing could be worse than having to hear her talk. Rita was the bullshit. All of this is to say that yes, Lily leaned her mop against the bars, kicked off her slippers, and squatted right on Rita’s pillow. Here’s what happens when you’re not on our side but you’re inside, you cunt. It was relaxing and delightful, truly. One of the best bowel movements she’d ever had in her entire time at Stenton. A massive relief. Her stomach shrunk an inch in circumference. Officer Billie at the table waiting to deal with it. The rest of the day to relax and play cards and only have to worry about how fast she was pissing herself. Her poop was huge and firm and as disgusting as ever, but she wouldn’t have to be in it long. “What the fuck!” came a voice. Lily hadn’t realized she’d opened her eyes. “Fuck you,” Kimmi said. Her voice wavered though, and Kimmi seemed to shrink away from the new person standing in the door between the bars of her cell. Lily gasped and stumbled off of Rita’s bed. “I said the fuck are you doing?” Rita asked, stepping into the room. She was blonde and freckly, and she kept her hair wavy with the product she bought. “Nothing,” Lily said. “Nothing?” Rita was shouting. Lily was anxious to leave. A guard who arrived had a lot of pretext in the scene that was unfolding. “You were shitting on my pillow.” “No she wasn’t,” Kimmi said. Rita spun and pointed a finger at Kimmi. Rita’s cheeks were flush, and her eyes were still watery from the spanking she’d taken on the dock. She didn’t deserve any sympathy, but it was hard to imagine her being anything but angry at what she’d returned to. “It was your idea,” she said. “It wasn’t my idea because nothing happened!” Kimmi shouted. Lily was trying to step between the two, to get her bucket and leave. Kimmi could handle herself. If a guard came now to see this, she was sure to be disciplined. Getting into a fight in a cell when she was supposed to be mopping was way out of line. Rita’s bone to pick was clearly with Kimmi, despite the fact that it had been Lily’s action that had enraged her. Lily pushed past them, grabbed her bucket and mop, and exited the cell. Her diaper was incredibly full of piss and poop, and it squished into her as she walked. She was sweating all over now too, and she could feel the oil of her hair on the back of her neck, the moisture down the sides of her hot jumpsuit, and of course, all of the heat generated by the mess she’d made in her diaper. She wanted out of there, to continue making wet circles on the ground until some guard took her to be changed by officer Billie. “Stop! Hands on the bars!” Lily’s heart sank. She propped her mop in the bucket and did as she was told. She was outside the cell, and she knew the position. Palms open, hands up above the head, feet spread, chest against the bars. She didn’t even see the guard who had ordered her against the bars, but she could hear his boots and that his voice was male. She could also hear that he wasn’t messing around. “You two, against the wall, now!” Kimmi and Rita immediately stopped talking and assumed the same position, but against the wall at the back of their cell. Lily was anxious for what came next. She heard the guard walking, his boots creaking and the chains and metal hanging from his belt loops were jingling like he was Santa Claus. “What happened?” came another guard’s voice. This one was female. “Fight.” “Physical?” “No.” “About what?” Rita, like an idiot, decided to speak. “They shit on my pillow!” “Quiet!” The guards barked at the same time. “Head against the wall,” the female guard said. Lily could see that Rita’s head was against the wall, but the guard continued. “Do you hear me?” “Yes ma’am!” Rita said. “You talk again, I’ll bring you right back to the dock, you hear me?” “Yes ma’am!” “You want that to happen?” “No ma’am!” Lily could hear the smugness in the voice of the female guard. They enjoyed doing that to inmates. It could go on for minutes. Rita surely hated it, Rita would be scratching a hole through the concrete in rage right about now. Lily couldn’t enjoy the schadenfreude, though. Her’s was coming. The guards then talked to themselves. They were so quiet that Lily couldn’t even hear them. Finally, the male guard addressed her. “You, out here,” he said. “Yes sir.” “What happened just now?” Lily gulped. “I was offering to clean cells because I had mopped the main floor, sir,” she said. “I was cleaning this one,” she said. “You were cleaning this one?” “Yes sir.” “Whose cell is this?” “This is their cell, sir,” she said. She realized that this was vague, so she motioned with her head inwards, towards the two women. “Have you defecated in your diaper?” this time the female guard asked. “Yes ma’am.” “When did you defecate in your diaper?” “A while ago ma’am, while I was doing my job, ma’am.” “When’s your job up?” the female guard said. Lily knew this answer could damn her. “Not sure. It might be soon, I might have had another hour. I’m not sure if I’ve been given two hours or not, Ma’am.” The male guard spoke to the female one. “She’s up on her chore now, I was about to come get her.” They were quiet for a moment. Lily wondered if they were still talking. The guards knew the schedules and goals of their inmates as well as the inmates. The guards knew that inmates would try to time their messing for when they were most likely to be changed. This meant that Lily’s claim to have messed herself a while ago was doubtful to them, and if Lily was lying about that, then Lily was in all likelihood the guilty party. Rita was then asked to give them a play-by-play. Contrary to her signature journalistic flourish, Rita was not unlike the blonde prosecutor that had sent Lily here in the first place. Another blonde bitch getting the better of me. Rita knew to tell her story politely, soberly, and with plenty of sir’s and ma’ams so as to be as deferential as possible. She told everything she could. She said I think I saw and I think that to make herself seem more impartial. She might have been screaming at Lily and Kimmi just moments before, but now she ‘wasn’t quite sure what she saw.’ When Rita was done, the pair of guards returned their attention to Lily. “What do you have to say?” “I don’t know sir.” “Is she right?” “I don’t know sir, I’m not sure what she said, sir.” “She said she saw you on her bed, squatting on her pillow.” “No sir.” “No sir what?” “I didn’t do that, ma’am.” “Then what were you doing in that cell?” “Mopping ma’am.” “For ten minutes?” They were probably already going to side with Rita for everything, so there were was no use lying further. Lily felt her legs tremble. She tried to maintain her composure. Despite all of the wetness in her jumpsuit, and the piss in her diaper, Lily’s throat was dry.“Yes ma’am.” “Were you talking with another inmate while on your job?” Answering truthfully also got Kimmi in trouble, but she knew that Kimmi knew that ship had sailed. “Yes ma’am.” Lily bit her lip and rested her head against the bars. The day had been going so well… This woman doesn’t need a law degree. She needs diapers. Send her where she belongs. They’d probably cell her in her dirty diaper until dinner. She was probably looking at a two-change day. They might add an extra visit to the dock next week too. Kimmi would get something similar. “Did you lie to us earlier? Did you defecate yourself on that inmates pillow? Be honest now, don’t make us have to ask this stupid question a million times.” And then, for reasons Lily didn’t quite understand, she started crying. The tears came out of nowhere, as if they were as incontinent as Kimmi was when she was asleep. She convulsed and her stomach sucked in like she was experiencing the mother of all hiccups. She could see the jury, the prosecutor with the long blonde hair, the lawyer trying to be as nice as possible when she was really tying to say: “You’re fucked beyond belief.” She could feel the dock, which was coming for her ass tomorrow. She could feel the good day she had slipping away. Another good day lost in a sea of lost days, spent mopping and plotting out when she peed and pooped like it was life or death. “Yes,” she finally said, not knowing why she said it, and wishing she hadn’t. “Yes ma’am?” the guard asked. Her voice was a lot closer. Lily was trained well enough to not move her head. “Yes ma’am,” she said. Snot choked her voice. She thought about being in this same position, against a wall, side by side with Marji. Just yesterday. Different officers, different violations, different cells. Same awful outcome. “You defecated on her pillow?” “Yes ma’am!” she said. Tears were getting into her mouth and sticking her hair to her cheeks. Was she one of the bad ladies now, one of the idiots who couldn’t avoid the dock? “You lied to us, why?” “Because I didn’t want to get in trouble,” Lily said. She felt like such a child saying that. That was the guard’s whole point. “Ma’am.” She wanted to wipe her eyes, but she knew she had to keep her hands on the bars. “You happy you’re in trouble now though?” Always, always, guards asked questions like that. Just like in court. Lily is eager to get this next phase of her life underway, so that she can learn from her mistakes. Yes, I’m looking forward to my docking. I love my diapers. I love them so much because they remind me of who I am. “Yes ma’am.” “Say it!” “I’m happy I’m in trouble, ma’am,” she said. She broke down again, and coughed. She could hear the guard stand up. She expected one of them to grab her arm and pull her, and her full diaper, back to her cell for the rest of the day. But that isn’t what happened. Not exactly. Instead, the two guards talked quietly for the final time. “Take her through the doors,” the female guard said.

Hi All, This is my first story in a long while. It's 11 chapters and about 14,500 words; I'm not sure if I'll be writing a 12th chapter or if I'm happy with where it is. I'll be posting a chapter a day for the next 10 or so days. I'll post the first two here tonight... I appreciate your support and your feedback; I hope you enjoy!!! Emsy Chapter 1 - FRESH Coleridge Towers wasn’t the most luxurious building in the City, but it certainly was luxurious. It had old-school charm—uniformed doormen and 24-hour concierge service—along with more modern amenities that befit its early 1960s construction, like a fitness center with an indoor pool and central air conditioning. And while East 54th and 2nd was not the most happening neighborhood or the coolest address, Abigail needed someplace safe and convenient to work. The tiny studio was relatively inexpensive, especially for something in midtown, and while it didn’t have a fancy view, Abigail was excited to have found something that barely fit in her budget. While the apartment fit in her budget, Abigail definitely did not fit in socially with the Coleridge Towers crowd. “Any packages for me, Mark?” she’d asked at the front desk on her third day in the building. The concierge seemed flustered. “Hi Abby, please give me a sec” he said quietly, turning his attention back to a middle-aged woman glaring at her. “As I was saying …” the woman continued. “MARK, come on, really, is there a package for me there or not?” Couldn’t this lady wait for just a second? “Before I was rudely interrupted,” the woman said, staring daggers at Abby. Abigail looked at the ground and gritted her teeth, determined not to show how frustrated she was to have to wait as the lady droned on and on. “There dear,” said the older woman finishing her business at the desk, “things tend to go better for little girls who wait their turn.” Abby blushed and bit back an insult, rolling her eyes dramatically and sighing. The woman seemed unaffected by her show of annoyance. Some days, Abby knew, that’s just what it was to be trans and tall and visible: some asshole was there to knock her down and she couldn’t stoop to their level. “Who was that witch?” Abby asked the concierge loudly as the older woman finally started to walk away. She hoped that the lady heard her, but the woman showed no signs of annoyance. Mark handed her the giant package that was waiting for her. “Evelyn Matson? I’d watch out for her if I were you, Abby. She’s lived here forever and she’s just… peculiar.” “You mean rude for no reason?” The “little girls” remark, while gender affirming, still stung. Mark shrugged. “Everyone who lives here long enough has a run-in with Miss Evelyn some way or another. It’s easier just to try and not antagonize her” Abby didn’t see Evelyn Matson for the next few weeks, and a day or so after the unpleasant incident at the desk, she stopped thinking about her, too. Near the end of October, on her way to work, she saw her again in the elevator. It was one of those late fall days where the weather is unseasonably warm, and Abby was ready for her Friday dress down at work. Evelyn was already on the elevator when it arrived on the 14th floor. “Are you on your way to work, dear?” Evelyn asked, as Abby stepped on. “Um, good morning. Yes, I am,” Abby replied. Evelyn’s eyes lingered for what seemed like a few moments longer than necessary, staring at her bare legs underneath the short skirt. “Are you sure you won’t be…” Evelyn seemed to pause and look for the right words, “too cold?” “Nope!” Abby answered cheerfully, “I’m pretty warm-blooded!” Ugh, she thought, how annoying. Best to kill her with kindness. “Hmm… Are you sure you mightn’t want some stockings?” Five more floors to go. “No thank you! I know how to pick out clothes. Byeee!” Abby’s voice fairly dripped with sarcasm. Three more floors before she could escape. “And telling someone ‘Byeee,’” Evelyn said imitating her drawn-out pronunciation of the word sarcastically, “you think that’s an appropriate way to speak to someone who’s trying to help you?” “Oh, only when the person trying to ‘help me’ is being a total bitch!” she answered with fake cheerfulness, using her hands to put air quotes around the words. The elevator doors thankfully opened before Evelyn could retort, and Abby practically ran to the front door. What was this lady’s problem with her? She huffed as the doorman opened the door for her and she stepped into the brisk fall morning. It was hard enough being the only queer person for like 10 blocks in either direction. Why did this lady insist on making her so uncomfortable? “That girl,” she heard behind her, as Evelyn loudly struck up a conversation with the doorman. By the time she’d swiped her MetroCard and made her way onto the northbound Q train she’d made up her mind: no more Miss Nice Girl, next time, she was just going to confront Evelyn directly. Chapter 2 - VIEW FROM THE 26TH FLOOR Contrary to popular belief, Evelyn Matson had not lived in Coleridge Towers forever. She’d purchased her unit 10 or so years ago because she loved the sweeping southeast views of the city and the river from the 26th floor. She’d liked it so much that when the penthouse unit above her had come on the market, with its ridiculously large private balcony, she’d purchased that one, too, and combined the units together. She’d knocked out the bedroom walls downstairs to create more living space and converted the upstairs unit into bedrooms. In the mornings, she loved to sit above the City’s hustle and bustle and bask in the morning breezes just after she got out of bed as she waited for the coffee to finish its preprogramed cycle in the upstairs kitchenette. This morning, however, as she sipped her coffee and looked out toward the the river, she was perturbed. And Evelyn Matson was not a woman who liked to be perturbed. It had to do with the new girl in the building, Abigail something-or-other who had moved into one of the rental studios on the 14th floor. She recalled her interaction with her in the elevator yesterday: the gangly girl was cute, somehow uncomfortable in her own skin, not unattractive, but certainly not well-mannered. She was petulant. No, Evelyn thought, sipping her too-hot coffee, that wasn’t the right word. As an educated person, Evelyn felt obligated to find the proper word. She blew on the coffee and waited a few seconds before taking a satisfying slurp. Fresh. That was the right word. At 42, Evelyn had never called a young person “fresh” before, but that was precisely what she was. The too-revealing clothes, the childish eye rolls, the air quotes, the bratty attitude, the interrupting. Yes… “Fresh” sounded like something that her mother would call a young lady like Abigail and it fit perfectly. A young woman in need of guidance and discipline. The coffee was no longer too hot, and Evelyn was determined to get to know this Abigail whoseit better. She thought again of the creamy white thighs in the elevator, the subtle curve of her bottom visible through the slit in the trench coat and smiled to herself; she was certainly not unattractive. And the ”Good Out Here” rainbow t-shirt suggested a certain… openness and, perhaps, kinship. She smiled to herself. To say that Evelyn had a plan would have been to give her far too much credit. Evelyn didn’t need plans; she simply determined that she would do things, and through sheer force of will, they happened. It had been this way since her parents died when she was young: a combination of willpower and wealth meant that little stood in her way. On her way out of the building, she stopped to chat with Mark for a moment, exchanging pleasantries. “What do you know about the new girl? Tall girl, 14th floor, renter I assume?” Mark nodded. “You know, the one who interrupted us when we were speaking the other day?” “Oh, Abigail Lawrence?” Mark shifted uncomfortably. “She just moved into 14L recently. A studio. No dishwasher, hasn’t been renovated.” Mark paused, and while Evelyn didn’t ask any follow up questions, the intensity of her attention drove him to expand. “She has a little dog, a yorkie? Its name is Apples.” “Boyfriend, girlfriend, visitors?” “None that I’m aware of. She’s a teacher at Selborne.” “Selborne? Really?” Evelyn was surprised. The girl must be whipsmart to teach at one of the most exclusive all-girls private schools in the City. “What does she teach?” “English I think? It’s only her first year there, though, and she’s still finishing her master’s during weekend and summer breaks.” As she walked the four blocks to her office to do a bit of drafting work on the quiet Saturday morning, Evelyn considered how surprising it was that Abigail had managed to land a job at Selborne. “Progressive” in name only, it was the kind of old-money school that her parents had chosen for her, and Abigail’s choice of clothes certainly didn’t fit with the conservative image that the school cultivated with its uniforms and exclusivity. Evelyn wasn’t the only one who had noticed that Abigail’s clothes didn’t exactly fit the Selborne image. On Friday afternoon during the last period of the day, Abigail was sitting in the teacher’s lounge when the Dean for Student Affairs, Ms. Thompson, stopped in and asked to speak with Abigail in her office. “How’s it going so far with the 10th graders, dear?” “Fine, thank you.” Sitting in Ms. Thompson’s office, the skirt felt especially too short and her confidence from earlier in the day evaporated. Should she cross her legs? “We’re working through Milton now, and it’s such a pleasure to read with the girls.” “Oh? I’ve always been partial to Paradise Lost myself. ‘Into this wild Abyss/The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave-/Of neither sea nor shore nor air nor fire,/ But all these in their pregnant causes mixed/Confusedly and which thus might ever fight,/ Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain/ His dark materials to create more worlds,--/Into the wild Abyss the wary Fiend/ Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while…’” “I love that moment,” Abby began, “the vulnerability that Satan feels, the uncertainty. His dependance on God, but also his bravery…” Mrs. Thompson was struck again by how much she liked Abigail; she was a careful reader, and she had the potential to be a wonderful teacher. And being just 10 or 12 years older than the girls she taught, she was relatable, too. It was no wonder that the girls had taken such a shine to her. As they talked about the book, Abby seemed to lose herself in the language, and Mrs. Thompson shifted the conversation to her purpose with regret. “In any case, I’ve had some complaints that I wanted to address with you.” Abigail’s blood turned to ice. Not this. Not again. She felt the tears well up and start to fall softly. Fired for being too trans? Too queer? For wearing the gay pride shirt? Stupid, stupid, stupid, she scolded herself, I should have known that I was pushing it… “It’s about your skirt, dear. It’s a bit… more revealing… than what we generally consider to be appropriate for a young woman. Now, as a role model for young ladies, we place the utmost importance on ensuring…” Abigail’s tears turned momentarily into tears of relief, and then into humiliation. She should have listened to that bitch in the elevator who made the nasty stockings comment. She took the proffered tissue and wiped her eyes to try and preserve some degree of dignity. She made out the words “leggings” and “only a warning” while trying to pull herself together. “And of course, if you ever want advice, you’re welcome to come to me.” “Thank you,” Abby said tearfully as she finished blotting her eyes. “I appreciate it.” In reality, Abby did not appreciate it. She did not appreciate it at all. As she fled the office and the school for the weekend, she considered that asking for advice about her wardrobe from Ms. Thompson was about as likely as Satan in Paradise Lost returning to God’s good graces. Back in 14L, there was no need to even pull the curtains to enjoy the privacy of a good cry in her tiny, dark studio. At least this was hers, and no one could take that from her, she thought, as she curled up under the covers of the full-sized bed that dominated the space. She took her pills early, letting bitter progesterone dissolve under her tongue. She hugged her teddy bear, Stephen, and drifted off to sleep. Her dreams that night were ultra-realistic and terrifying. When she woke up the next morning, her sheets were soaked, like they always were when she had bad dreams.

(Before anyone reads this, I think its only fair to warn you that there are 'dirtier' themes then you would normally find in an abdl story. I don't believe it breaks any site rules, but as I usually don't write like this, I may be mistaken and I apologize if so . )SMACK SMACK SMACK!The sissy squirmed as his bottom was spanked by his daddy. Tears were streaming down his face as he grasped tightly onto his teddy bear for comfort, and only his pacifier keeping him from calling out. His diaper was pulled down to his knees and his skirt lay on the ground, leaving his bare skin open to the harsh smacks. His daddy took his time, spanking him again and again until he was satisfied the sissy had learned his lesson.He stopped and rested his hand on the sissy's bright red bottom, feeling the new found warmth comming off of it."Now little Nathaniel, did you learn your lesson?"The sissy squrimed and looked at him through tear soaked eye lids. He didn't answer and kept suckling his pacifier, knowing the trick.His daddy patted his upturned bottom. "Good baby," he said. He removed the pacifier and asked again, "did you learn your lesson?""Yes daddy," he sniffed."What did you learn?""I learned not to deny to mommy or daddy that I'm a sissy baby.""Exactly right." He began absent mindedly stroking and patting the sissy boy's bottom, making him moan. "Now, remember when you came here. You played with your mommy, being her little baby, pretending to be a boy..."The sissy groaned and the word "pretending."The sissy's 'daddy' began speaking in an overly sweat, mocking tone. "But then she tried putting her baby in a skirt. She's told me how you whined and complained that you were a boy, and how you didn't want to do that... and how hard you became the second you were in pink. Remember?"He nodded."It wasn't long after until you were always in your pretty pink skirts, always a little sissy, and always loving it. But you still complained, didn't you? Were you a naughty little liar to your mommy?" He spanked him hard.Nathaniel yelped. "YES DADDY!""And whats more... I bet you never expected to be subby to a daddy, did you?""No daddy...""But the little sissy saw all the big strong men, and mommy saw how he stared... and it wasn't long until you were in the lap of your first male babysitter, crying in humiliation, and beging for more, wasn't it?" He spanked him again, and Nathaniel shouted."Yes Daddy!""And then you asked for something you never thought you would, to please a daddy, didn't you?"He blushed deeply. "Yes daddy.""Good baby. And yet it still seems you deny it sometimes, don't you? Like you did to mommy and me earlier?""Yes daddy.""Was that a lie? Was that a naughty little lie?" Another spank, another yelp.He nodded. "Yes daddy!""Then beg me for it. Beg to be a little sissy in pink dresses, bending over and kneeling down to please me. Tell me how much you love it.""Oh god daddy please no..."He spanked him, harder then before. "NOW!""OW! PLease daddy! I want to be a little sissy in pink dresses, bending and kneeling to please you! I love it I love it!""Good. Then I have a reward for my sissy. Stand up." He helped Nathaniel to his feet. He then reached over and pulled up the sissy's diaper, straigtening it out."Now. Pick up your skirt and put it on."He looked at the skirt and back at his daddy. "But... Daddy?" Normally he was forced into his fetish clothes, not asked to put them on himself."Do it yourself. If you want it, that is. I don't want any way for my little sissy to pretend we made him do it."Nathaniel glared, but reached down and pulled up the skirt.Nathaniel was now dressed head to toe in fetish wear. Almost everything he wore was pink and was designed to drive home his feminine and infantile state. Around his waist was a flouncing skirt that was short enough to leave his patterned diapers visible. Underneath it were long, pale stockings that went to his knees and were tied in bows, then Mary Jane shoes. Above it was a pink shirt he tucked into his skirt, a bonnet, and his pacifier. Though he was still clearly male, his hair had grown long, and the clothes were cut to fit his thin stature.Jordan, his 'daddy,' on the other hand, was far broader, and wearing only shorts and a t shirt. The contrast between the muscular sitting man and the thinner one in the skirt was clear.Jordan patted his lap. "Sit down sweetheart."Nathanil sat down gingerly, then whined and squirmed as he rested on his aching bottom."Oh hush up, your diapers are more then thick enough for cushioning," Jordan said. "Now, for your reward. And remember, you can stop this anytime you want"He picked up a bottle of white frothy liquid and brought it to Nathaniel's lips. Nathaniel looked at him suspiciously, then began to drink what he assumed was milk.A moment later Nathaniel gagged. "Keep drinking sweetheart," Jordan said sternly. "And yes, that is exactly what you think it is."Nathaniel whined but kept drinking. The bottle tip was thin, and the liquid came out slowly, forcing him to taste each drop."Like that? This was ordered online. I bet you didn't know they sold stuff like it, eh?" Jordan said. Nathaniel cringed and kept drinking. "It comes other doms and real men, intended for little sissies like you. I of course added my own, plus a little something to help you fill your diapers." Nathaniel groaned loadly at the last part, but kept drinking."I want you to know that this is your place. Look at you, a grown man dressed like a little girl in diapers, suckling a bottle in your daddy's lap. Longing to be in pretty pink skirts and getting taken care of and spanked. Pathetic. But you love it, don't you?"Nathaniel nodded between gulps. He squeezed his eyes shut and had to fight back gags from the salty taste."And now you're drinking this just because I told you to. We both know you hate the taste. We both know you could leave if you really wanted to. But we also both know that you won't, don't we? You love this more then anything?"Nathaniel didn't respond, and Jordan slowly reached down to his waste, lifted up his skirt and put a hand on the front of his diaper. Nathaniel gasped."Oh no? Sure seems like youre enjoying it." Nathaniel whimpered and pushed himself into his daddy's hand.Jordan laughed. "Oh ho look at you. Really loving it. Love the feeling of your pretty pink diapers, nice and soft against you?" He began rubbing it back in forth. Nathaniel didn't move. "Admit it, sissy. Admit you love it or I'll stop."Nathaniel nodded vigerously."Good baby."Nathaniel felt something poking the back of his diaper. He began rubbing it with his diaper almost instinctively, moving his bottom back and forth in his daddy's lap as he'd been taught to do.Jordan smiled. 'Very good baby."The bottle was almost done. Nathaniel still struggled to drink each drop, chocing and gagging at the taste."Keep going little one, almost there. Baby isn't going to be able to finish in his diaper unless he finishes his bottle!" He spoke in a high, teasing voice. "And remember, that is filled with a nice laxative, so finishing means your going to be in a VERY full and VERY stinky diaper soon, and we're going to keep you in it ALLLLLLL night. Sound fun?"Nathaniel whimpered and shook his head."Oh no?" Jordan pressed down on his diaper, and Nathaniel began nodding again. "Mmm hmm! Mmmm hmm!" he groaned, wordlessly begging for the punishment his daddy had promised."Now, you want to add something else to your pwetty widdle diapies?" Jordan asked."Mhmm!" "Finish the bottle and I might let you." He rubbed slower, keeping Nathaniel on the edge.Nathaniel sucked as hard as he could and tried to drink faster, resisting the urge to gag as he swallowed it all. Jordan kept rubbing him slowly, stopping when he felt him get to close.Finally the bottle was finished, and he moved it away."Oh god daddy!" Nathaniel shouted. "Please! Please let me!"Let you what? Let you be my little sissy forever? Let you please your daddy? Let you fill your little diapies?""Yes daddy please I want it all! To be your sissy, to please you, to fill my diapers!""Good. And you'll never play pretend at being a man again?""No daddy! Never! I'm not! I can't be!""Good. And you know that even though you're going to finsih in your diapers now, you'll still have to please your daddy, you'll still have to be a little diapered sissy, and you'll still spend the night in a messy diaper since when the fun is all gone?"Nathaniel was sobbing in desperation. "Yes daddy.""And you know this will prove how much you love being a little sissy in diapers, how much it turns you on, and how you only need to finish in your diapers from now on?"Tears streamed down his face. "Yes daddy!""Good baby. Then finish." He rubbed harder. Nathaniel gasped, convulsed, and lay shuddering on his lap.Jordan let him rest for a moment, smiling down at him. He then gently picked him up and cradled him in his lap. He began rocking him."Good baby. Good baby. Good sissy. You did well little one, you really did," he said in a soft voice.Nathaniel's eyes opened. "Daddy?" he said questioningly."Shhh..." Jordan said. "You were a good little sissy." He bent down and kissed Nathaniel on the forehead. He stroked his hair and back as Nathaniel became more and more awake. When Jordan was satisfied he was rested enough, he sat up straighter and hugged him. "Now, go rinse your mouth out," he said louder. "Then you'll come back and finish pleasing your daddy. When you're done, we'll give you a nice hot bath, and maybe some cookies if you're good, ok? How's that sound?"Nathaniel smiled. "Good, daddy.""Good, then go." He stood Nathaniel up, patted his bottom, and sent him on his way.

Maggie was a little girl 8 years old, even if because her childish and and very spoiled behavior nobody would ever say that. She had red and very curly hair hairstyled in two twin tails and two dark green eyes on a face sprinkled with freckles. It was very terrible for her when her mother decided to abandon her to her sister Louise to start together her new boyfriend for who knows where, specifically because she didn't see her aunt since she was only two years old, and she didn't know anything about her. Now she was sat down under the porch of her aunt's house, very scared and sad with only a suitcase with her clothes in it, two red eyes because the cry, a letter from her mother for her aunt pinned to her skirt and a pair of very wet panties.

Hi Everyone! In order to have more time to work on stories without it taking away from other things I need to do (stupid adulting!?), I've decided I have no choice but to move my writing to Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/alex_bridges. It's only $3 a month, and that's less a Starbucks. Now, we all know what you're doing while you read this stuff ?, and isn't AN ENTIRE MONTH of that worth more than a coffee (if you don't think so, you're doing it wrong!?). So as many do, I'll be posting new chapters here one week after they've posted on Patreon, beginning with Chapter 8. ________________ Prologue It was bad enough I was in trouble again. Hearing her tell her friend all about it over the phone just made it so much more humiliating as I stood with my nose in the corner. Nothing I ever did could delay a punishment, but a call from Kiley apparently could. I could hear her fine as she talked in the hallway. “Hey, Kiley! … O, nothing much. Just about to give that boy of mine a spanking … He just has an attitude today and took the wrong tone of voice with me; you know how he gets … He thinks he’s too old to be spanked, too, but you know how I feel about it: if he’s not too old to be in diapers, then he’s definitely not too old to go over my knee … Yeah, always over my knee … Because being spanked bent over is for big boys who wear big boy underwear … Haha, yeah, just like a little boy, but it’s like my mom used to say, a spanking doesn’t just stop for tears … Yeah, let’s do that this weekend … Anyway, I think I’ve kept him waiting long enough … Yeah, thanks … Bye bye.” I swallowed hard, knowing she was on her way down the hall now. I wanted to start crying already, though that never seemed to elicit the sympathy I hoped for, and anyway, I wanted to at least seem grown up and not like a kid. Just because my wife treats me like one sometimes doesn’t mean I am one. How did this happen anyway?

Part 1 I had been working at a small company for a couple of years, my first real job out of college. I was naive, and made a few mistakes along the way, but had also made some good impressions with my boss, Mary. She seemed to value my work and my potential, and had started to act like a bit of a mentor. As VP of Operations, Mary certainly didn’t tolerate any nonsense, but she was also compassionate and supportive. A recent empty-nester (and longtime divorcée), it was clear she had a strong maternal side - firm, but caring. Mary was also easy on the eyes. She had a full, hourglass figure, dark hair and blue eyes. She was a smart dresser, professional but sexy in an authoritative way. There was no question she was the boss. As a horny, rather inexperienced 23-year old with a penchant for take-charge women, I was a bit smitten. I was, of course, always professional, but welcomed every opportunity to interact with Mary, and eagerly accepted her guidance. Over time, I eventually developed a fantasy of being privately scolded by her for making some mistake, then pulled over her lap for a solid spanking. The fantasy evolved, but always remained just a wild fantasy, until… I had been assigned to help on a proposal for a new client. It was a months long effort, but had the potential to be huge new business for the company. It was a stretch opportunity for me, and I was eager to show Mary I was up to the task. The deadline finally came to submit the proposal and we were editing down to the wire. Working well into the evening, eventually no one was left in the office but Mary and me. Finally finished with every last detail, I clicked submit on the online document repository, then got a prompt: “Documents loading … approximately 2 hours to full upload.” “Aww dammit!” I let my frustrations out. It was already after 9 pm! I’d be lucky to make it home by midnight. Suddenly Mary popped in my office. “Everything okay?” she asked. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” I blushed a bit. “The documents are loading, but it says it will take two hours before they’re fully received.” “Ah, bummer - all that work, now hurry up and wait…” she replied. “I don’t mind staying to wait for it to finish, you can head home,” I offered, trying to score some brownie points. “That’s ok,” Mary said. “How about I wait with you? I think there’s some wine leftover from the event last week, I’ll go dig it out. We should celebrate anyway, your first big client proposal!” She disappeared around the corner. My stomach fluttered. One on one time with Mary, after hours, with wine…! The evening was shaping up. Mary came back to my office and poured the wine. As she leaned over my desk to check the upload progress, I got a nice view down her blouse at her big tits. “Ugh, 1 hour 55 minutes,” she read, taking a big slug from her wine glass. “We’d better drink up.” She winked at me, and I followed her lead, taking a nice long gulp from my glass. Taking a seat in an empty chair across the office, Mary started in with small talk. The more we drank, the more we laughed. Eventually, the conversation came around to my first few weeks on the job. “Oh my,” Mary commented, “you were so fresh faced and eager, but a little clueless,” she giggled. “Sometimes I felt more like your babysitter than your boss!” I nearly choked on my wine, but managed to hold it together. I could feel myself blushing. I feigned indignation. “Oh what do you mean?? I could handle myself!” I said, laughing nervously. “Oh please. I had to constantly clean up your messes. Remember what you blurted out at that client meeting in your first week? You’d have been better off with a pacifier stuffed in your mouth!” she erupted in laughter. I could feel my face flush deep crimson. Mary stopped laughing and suddenly looked slightly concerned that she had crossed a line in her teasing. For my part, even though she had embarrassed me a bit, I desperately wanted to egg her on. I quickly took a gulp of liquid courage. “Ok, ok yeah that one was pretty dumb on my part,” I said, “but I wasn’t THAT bad. I mean, it’s not like you ever had to punish me!” I giggled. Mary raised an eyebrow. She seemed to study me for a moment, then slowly sipped her wine. “Well maybe I should have…” she said. Her words hung in the air. I let out a nervous giggle, anticipating what might come next. She stared at me intently, a half smile starting to curl on one side of her mouth. Her red lipstick glistening, her blue eyes seeming to pierce right through me. I reached for my wine glass and clumsily knocked it over, spilling across my desk. Mary gasped and jumped up. Grabbing some tissues, she started to mop up the wine from the desk top. “What did I say? Always cleaning up your messes,” she chided. “Next time I’ll have to remember to bring you a sippy cup.” I stood behind my desk feeling about two feet tall. Mary’s playful scolding was making me feel like a small child. And it was also turning me on. She finished wiping up the wine and tossed the tissues in the trash can. She leaned across my desk and checked my computer to see how long the upload still had. I again took the opportunity to ogle her voluptuous rack. “Ahem..” Mary cleared her throat. I snapped my gaze away from her tits to see she was staring me dead in the eyes. “About 35 minutes still…” “Now then, before you went ahead and proved my point about you needing someone to clean up after you, we were discussing the matter of your punishment. Or rather, lack thereof.” My mouth went dry. I was in a daze. Could I really be on the cusp of realizing my fantasy? Mary’s voice cut through, sharp and firm. “How long has it been since you were last spanked?” I smiled reflexively and nervously. My mouth was still too dry to speak, my brain too stunned to form words. I gaped back at her silently. “Well? Come on now… when was the last time someone pulled down your pants and put you across their knee for a good spanking??” she pressed. “I… um… well I guess… never really,” I stammered rather meekly. Sitting back in her chair she stared back at me. “Never???” she repeated incredulously. “Yeah, I mean, my parents didn’t really believe in that.” “My, my,” Mary shook her head. “And you never had a girlfriend give you a good smacked bottom?” she pried, a thin smile growing on her lips. I shook my head no. I had never worked up the courage to share my fantasies with anyone I had dated this far. By now, my cock was raging hard, bulging beneath my pants. I could hardly believe what was happening. “Well I think it’s time we fix that. I believe strongly that you’re never too old for a trip over the knee. And there’s no time like the present. Come on over here young man.” As if on a conveyor belt, I glided across the room to where she sat. Mary took my hands and directed me to her right side. Then with a quick tug she had me sprawled across her ample lap, face down with my butt skyward and exposed. “Since this is your first ever spanking, I’ll allow you to keep your pants up. But I’m warning you, if we have to repeat this any time soon, it will be on you bare little bottom. Understood?” Somehow I managed to squeak, “yes ma’am.” My cock pressed through my thin dress pants and into Mary’s thighs. Squeezing her legs together and acknowledging my bulging manhood, she commented, “It seems like someone is enjoying himself… let’s see how long that lasts.” CRACK! Her hand fell firm right in the middle of my cheeks. SMACK SMACK! She gave a few good hard slaps, the paused and rubbed my ass all over. My dick throbbed with anticipation, and worked its way deeper between her legs. Another volley landed, SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK!! The sting was real, but it felt strangely good, and made me buck and shift, rubbing my cock back and forth across Mary’s legs. My pleasure and anticipation grew as Mary alternated spanking and caressing my butt. “This is what happens… SMACK… to little boys …SMACK… who make big… SMACK… messes… SMACK… for their mommies… SMACK… to clean up …SMACK SMACK SMACK!” The scolding made my cock even stiffer. She began rubbing again. “That’s what you need, isn’t it?? A mommy to look after you. Clean you up when you make a mess. And… SMACK!! … spank… SMACK … your little … SMACK … bottom … SMACK … when you misbehave.” The barrage of spanks that followed were too much. As Mary spanked, my cock rubbed harder and faster against her thigh. The pressure became too much, and I spurted a hot puddle of cum into my underwear, groaning deeply as I did. Mary finished with a flurry across my backside, just as I finished blowing my load. She rubbed my butt for a minute while I caught my breath. “Ok, stand up young man,” she instructed. Still in a fog from my orgasm, I complied. “Oh my, just look at your pants you naughty boy!” I looked down. My light gray slacks had a massive wet spot in the crotch. Mary clicked her tongue and tsk, tsked me. “I knew you needed looking after.” She picked up some tissues and dabbed at my wet pants. It did little to clean the mess, and left fuzz on my crotch, further accentuating the stain. “Well we can’t send you home on the bus in this state. You stay right here, there’s a Walgreens around the corner and they’ll have everything we need.” Mary stood and took my chin in her hand. Looking me squarely in the eye, she said, “You’re not quite done being punished young man. I saw you peaking down my shirt earlier.” I blushed again, and swallowed hard. I stammered “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to… you just leaned over and … I’m sorry.” “Yes I know you’re sorry,” she winked at me. “But you still need to be punished.” Guiding me by my hips, she shifted me back behind my desk. Checking the upload she noted “oh good, only ten more minutes.” She continued pushing me by the hips past the desk and toward the wall. “Stand here with your nose in the corner until I come back. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Propping me in the corner with three sharp smacks to my tingling bottom, she added, “Don’t even think about stepping out of there. I’ll know if you do. And you won’t like what will happen next.” A final hard whack to my rear, and she was out the door.

Tea was walking around Times Square in New York City. She had just finished her dance training and was ready to head back home and see her friends again before looking for a job. She smiled at a deck box attached to her belt. She doubted her skills were at Joey or Yugi's level, but she was excited to show the two what she had picked up over the past two years. She had decided to cut through an alleyway when she saw someone come up. Tea moved to run until the figure pulled out a rag and held it to Tea's face. She could smell the chloroform as she began to feel weak. "Oh," Tea said weakly. "Not again." Tea then lost consciousness. When Tea came to, she was sitting on some kind of conveyor belt. She tried to leave, but a thin but powerful cord pulled her back onto it. "Welcome to the last day of your old life." A woman said. Tea looked and saw the figure who kidnapped her. She was also attached to another conveyor belt, and Tea saw a life point counter in front of her that read 4000. "What's this about?!" Tea asked. "Who are you?!" "I'm a relic hunter." The woman said. "However, work's been rather slow since Marik started working with his sister, so I've begun moonlighting as a human-trafficer for childless couples." "What's that got to do with me?!" Tea asked angrily. "Easy." The hunter said. "Kidnapping children is despicable. Kidnapping adults who can fight back, though, there's a challenge." "So we're going to Duel?" Tea asked. "Exactly." The hunter said. "As our life points drop, the belt will carry us down, making us more and more like babies. Once one of our life points hit 0, that person will be sent off to my clients via a fully automated system. Got it?" "Got it." Tea said, nervous but determined. "Let's Duel!" The two drew their cards from a stand directly opposite from them as Tea looked at her hand. It was a Dark Magician, a Dian the Cure Master, and a few other Magic Cards, all useless for the moment. Everything counted on the first card she drew. She drew the card and found Lemmon Magician Girl, and after a brief moment, a plan formed in her head. "I summon Lemmon Magician Girl!" Tea called out as she put the card on the reader connected to her stand, and a dark-skinned girl of about eight appeared with blonde hair and dressed in yellow armor. (Atk: 800/Def: 600) "Next, I'll play Dian the Cure Master to raise my life points by 1000." Tea called out. (Tea's life points: 5000) "And I'll end my turn." Tea finished with a smile not unlike the Pharaoh's. "Hmph." The hunter grumbled. "If you're not even going to try, this will be over quickly." She drew and smirked. "I play Cost Down to allow me to immediately summon monsters with five or six stars." Her smile widened. "Next I summon the Goddess of Maternity!" The hunter called out as a white haired woman appeared. (Atk: 2000/Def: 1900) "Next, I'll set a card face down." The hunter explained. "Now attack the Lemmon Magician Girl!" The hunter called out as the Goddess pointed at the Magician Girl. "Not so fast!" Tea called out. "When my Lemmon Magician Girl is attacked, I can summon a spellcaster from my hand, and I choose the Dark Magician!" The violent robes and purple armor of the Dark Magician appeared as he glared at the Goddess with his blue eyes. (Atk: 2500/Def: 2100) "Once that's done, your Goddess' attack is redirected at him, and her strength is cut in half." Tea finished. (Atk: 1000) The Dark Magician repelled the attack at the Goddess, and she was destroyed. (Hunter's life points: 2500) "Oh no!" The hunter called out as the belt rumbled to life. She was moved into a box as Tea saw all of the hunter's clothes tossed out as she came out completely naked. At another station, a hand came out of a green cube next to the hunter's conveyor belt and held her down as another hand spanked her, and she called out. She was then moved to another station where she got a soapy brush shoved into her mouth before the rest of her was washed, and her skin glowed like a newborns. She was then moved to another station where her stomach and crotch were powdered, and a spatula flipped the hunter onto her back as her butt was then powdered. "You wiww pay fow dis!" The hunter called out, and Tea gulped at how effective and efficient the belt was. She had to win... or else she'll never see her friends again! To be continued...

During my first semester in college, I was enrolled in the usual intro classes - Philosophy, History, Anthropology… I had also signed up for a one-credit “freshman seminar,” more or less an intro to surviving your first year on campus and living on your own. An easy A, I thought, and maybe a chance to meet some freshmen girls. The seminar instructor was a young faculty member from the Theater department. She was very casual and warm with the class, encouraging us to use her first name, Anna. I was a bit smitten from the moment she walked in the class room. She had very kind eyes, an attractive build, and a firm but gentle air of authority. I knew I’d have no trouble with attendance for Anna’s class! In the first few weeks of class, I started wondering (wishfully?) if Anna was flirting with me. She called on me often to share, and always did so with a broad, beautiful smile. Of course, she was friendly and kind with all of the students, so I convinced myself it was my imagination. The semester wore on, and I found my way into the various party scenes on campus. By October, I had made some friends among a group of Theater majors. They invited me to the annual department Halloween party, which they promised would be wild. Makes sense, I thought, that the Theater kids would take Halloween pretty seriously. I knew I couldn’t miss it… Realizing I wouldn’t be able to compete costume-wise, I simply put on a striped tie, some kakhis and a sweater vest, ready to do my best “Frank the Tank” impression. My friends and I pregamed with some beers in the dorm, then headed out to the off campus apartment for the party. The party was raucous, the costumes raunchy, and the drinks stiff. I was still finding my tolerance, so got pretty lubricated pretty quickly. A Senior dressed impeccably as Princess Leia invited me to step on the back porch to smoke a joint. No chance I could say no to that… I reentered the party feeling a lot lighter. I nearly walked right past her. I was halfway through the kitchen when I realized, the leather clad Catwoman serving herself from the punch bowl was my seminar teacher, Anna. We locked eyes. “Oh hi there,” she said a bit awkwardly. “Oh um hi!” I stammered, shuffling past her. I was caught so off guard, a naive freshman feeling like I was busted, in trouble with my teacher, having broken the rules, broken the law even! Wait, though, I thought. she was having a drink! she was partying too! …or was that really even her?? Considering my state of mind, I couldn’t know what I actually saw or what to think of it. I figured best think would be to sleep it off. I made an Irish exit, and slinked off to my dorm and passed out. Sunday morning was a blur, I slept off my hangover most of the afternoon, spent the evening studying, and before I knew it, my alarm was blaring Monday morning. I shuffled through my routine and went off to class. It wasn’t until Anna walked in the room that it hit me. She was at the party! Right..? she was at the party..? I fidgeted in my seat nervously. “Good morning everyone! How was the weekend for you all?” Anna said. I slunk down in my chair, and fortunately she didn’t look my way. Some other students offered innocent sounding Halloween anecdotes. Anna smiled entertaining each story cheerfully. Eventually, she said, “I had a fun weekend too. “The Theater department had it’s annual Halloween party, which can get a little crazy.” My stomach dropped. She was there. She saw me… But she still didn’t make eye contact. In fact, it felt like she was intentionally avoiding my gaze. She looked around the room quizzically. “I feel like I saw one of you there… Ryan, weren’t you there?” she asked another student. My mouth was dry. I was in the clear, she didn’t know it was me. Ryan shrugged and shook his head. “Oh, well, I guess you can what my state of mind was,” Anna giggled. “Like I said, it can get a little wild…” The rest of class was a blur. I was in a daze, feeling like I’d gotten away with something. I was still a bit spaced out when I realized my classmates were picking up their things, class was over. I snapped out of it and scooped up my books and stuffed them in my bag. Shuffling toward the door I heard a firm voice call my name. “Matthew.” Anna beckoned me to the front of the room, looking a bit stern. I slowed my pace as the room emptied. As I approached, her face softened. Now alone, she crossed the room and closed the door. Smiling at me she said, “Matt, I wanted to say thanks.” “For what?” I stammered. “For not calling me out about the party. I know you were there and saw how drunk I was.” “Oh…” I said, “um, no problem, not a big deal.” I grinned. “Well, it’s kind of a big deal,” she told me. “I was behaving inappropriately, drinking that much around my students. It wasn’t right.” I wasn’t sure where this was headed, but she seemed to be feeling guilty so I tried to be affirming. “Don’t worry about it. Lots of people were drinking. You didn’t even really seem that drunk to me.” “That’s sweet of you to say, thank you,” Anna smiled. “But I should be setting a better example. I really should be punished.” My mouth went dry and my cock flinched. Was I dreaming? Anna didn’t give me much time to consider the notion. “I think because you were generous and didn’t call me out during class, it would be fair for you to punish me for my bad behavior. Would you like to give me a spanking?” Now I knew I was dreaming. This couldn’t be real. I’m sure she could see that thought on my face. She took me gently by the shoulder and looked me dead in the eye. “Don’t worry. I deserve it, and it should come from you.” Anna winked at me, turned and leaned over a desk in the front row. She stuck her round butt up in the air and tugged her skirt up above her hips. I stared at her panty-clad ass in disbelief. Turing back to look at me, Anna said invitingly, “Come on now. Give me what I deserve.” My cock was now rock hard straining against my jeans. I slowly moved over to her. Cupping my hand on her waiting ass cheek, I took stock. This was a thing of fantasy. Could I really be about to spank my teacher?? Drawing my hand back I brought it down with a slap. Anna barely reacted. I took the hint and reached back a little further. Smacking in the same spot, I elicited a tiny yelp. Anna raised her bottom a little higher anticipating the next smack. I couldn’t resist… I spanked in quick succession, harder each time. Anna moaned a bit and wriggled her hips. But she stayed firmly in position with her ass in the air, and took everything I had to give her. As I noticed her butt getting a little red, I slowed down and admired my work. My cocked throbbed and dripped into my underwear. Anna tugged her skirt back over her hips and stood up. Her other cheeks were blushing too. Clearing her throat as she turned around, “well thank you again for your discretion. That was a fair punishment, don’t you think?” I nodded, unable to speak. “Good, I’m glad you think so,” she asserted. “Because there’s also the matter of your misbehavior that we need to discuss.” I swallowed hard. “You were in fact at that party, and you were drinking under age and smoking marijuana. Those are serious offenses that the Dean of Students does not take lightly. “But, as I think you might know by now, I like to deal with things like this directly. Fair is fair; you gave me my punishment, now it’s time for you to take yours.” She walked behind the desk, never breaking eye contact. Sitting down, she opened a drawer and produced a long wooden ruler. Setting the ruler on the desk, Anna crooked a finger and beckoned me. She might as well have been using a tractor beam. In seconds I was standing at her side behind the desk. With two hands on my belt, she sternly pulled me closer. Keeping one hand firmly affixed to the front of my pants, she shook a finger at me with the other hand and scolded. “Young man, your behavior this weekend was unacceptable. I do not tolerate boys who refuse to act their age. So now, Matthew, I am going to put you across my knee and spank your bottom good and hard.” My dick was aching, throbbing and dripping. Even though I stood looking down at her, I felt like I was about two feet tall. Anna went to work unfastening my pants. She quickly tugged them to my knees. Grabbing my wrist, she roughly pulled me forward over her lap. I tried to drink in the moment. I was relatively inexperienced sexually, but had fantasized about spanking scenarios extensively, just like this one. Anna seemed to be enjoying herself too. She wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, and rubbed my waiting bottom gently with her other hand. She lifted it for a moment and then… SMACK! I was snapped out of my trance by a sharp sting on my backside. “This is what happens,” she said, raining down three more hard spanks, “to naughty boys who misbehave.” The sting grew and spread as she peppered both cheeks evenly all over my sit spots. The pain wasn’t enough to assuage my erection though, as it throbbed against Anna thighs. She continued chiding me as she spanked. “When you act like a little child, you can expect to be treated like one, along with childish punishments. “Don’t you feel embarrassed, a big boy like you with his pants pulled down getting a smacked bottom like a little boy across his mommy’s knee?” She stopped for a moment. “Well, aren’t you embarrassed, Matthew?” “Yea ma’am,” I mustered. She cupped my cheeks and tightened her grip around my waist, indicating she was far from through with me. “It seems to me you are going to need some rather ‘hands on’ attention and guidance to navigate the rest of your freshman year. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I have to put you over my lap.” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! She kept up the barrage with her bare hand making me wriggle and yelp. Stopping again, I heard the ominous sound of the ruler sliding off the desk. “To make sure you know what to expect going forward, I’m going to give you a good dose with the ruler. This will be just a taste of the spanking you’ll receive the next time we have to have this conversation.” Anna tapped the ruler against my boxer briefs, taking aim. CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! She lit up my butt, striking in the same spot repeatedly, right at the curve of my ass above my thighs, across both cheeks. I gasped as the pain seared across my backside. Just when I thought I might start to cry, Anna paused. She rested the ruler on my back and firmly rubbed my butt. The sting deepened as she did. Just when I thought maybe I was done being spanked, I felt Anna’s fingertips in the waistband of my underwear. “You’ve taken your punishment like a very good boy so far. I’m proud of you. We’re almost finished. Just to make sure I get my point across, I’m going to have to pull these down and give you the ruler on your bare bottom.” She tugged my undies down over the crest of my butt. I held my breath waiting for the crack of the ruler as I felt her retrieve it from the small of my back. I didn’t have to wait long. The ruler exploded across my bare behind and I lost control. I howled and bucked. Anna held me tightly in place and steeled her resolve. “Hold still and take your punishment little boy,” she scolded as she continued beating me. “A good bare bottom spanking is just the medicine you need.” I fell limply across her lap and sobbed. Anna kept spanking for a few minutes, then finally relented. I kept crying as she rubbed my butt and cooed, “good boy, good boy. Let it out.” Eventually she guided me to a sitting position on her lap. Anna rubbed my still bare butt and held my head on her shoulder. Despite the sharp pain in my backside, I felt loved and cared for. A strange sense of relief and comfort washed over me. After a few moments, Anna broke the silence. “You were a brave, good boy and I’m proud of you. But like I said, I don’t think that will be your last spanking this year.” She patted my bare bottom firmly. “We’ll talk more about that later. I want you to come to my office tomorrow at 1:00 pm sharp. Don’t be late. For now, you need to get to your next class.” She slid me off her lap and stood me up. As she pulled my underwear back into place, my erection was returning. Anna noticed and commented on the wet spot that had grown there. “Oh my, a little accident. We’ll have to discuss that tomorrow too.” She fastened my pants and turned me toward the door by my hips. “Off you go,” she said, with three firm seats to the seat of my pants. “And remember to behave yourself, or else…” she smiled at me broadly. I returned the smile, “See you tomorrow ma’am,” I said. “Yes until then,” Anna said, “Oh, and please wear that cute costume from the party when you report to my office.”

Hi. I’m new here. Live near SLC and am a bbw baby girl looking for a Daddy. Does this exist in Utah?

Hi I’m new here, and this is my first attempt at ABDL fiction. Hope you like it. — Part 1 It was my 25th birthday. I was out at a bar having drinks with a group of friends, including my friend’s coworker Melissa who I had been crushing on for a couple of months. I had hoped tonight might be my chance to finally make a move, but before I got my chance, she made her move. “Hey birthday boy!” Melissa said, sitting down next to me at the bar. “Tell me, have you had your birthday spankings yet?” My mouth went dry. I had a huge kink for spanking, among other things. I had enough liquid courage in me to play it cool, though. “Not yet,” I said smiling, “but the night is young.” “Hmm… well no time like the present!” “Right here in front of everyone?” I asked. “Well.. we could go back to my place, but fair warning: if I spank you in private, it’ll have to be on your bare bottom.” My cock was rock hard by now and I could feel it staring to drip into my underwear. I had fantasized about being spanked by a woman for as long as I could remember, and had very recently fantasized in particular about being across Melissa’s knee with my pants around my ankles. I was fairly shocked that, in fact, here she was proposing just that. I couldn’t think of what to say, so just stammered with a grin, “um… that sounds pretty good to me.” She didn’t say another word. She took me firmly by the hand and led me out of the bar. The cool air hit me and snapped me out of my trance. It hit me: I was finally about to get a spanking! Melissa lived in the neighborhood so it was a short walk to her apartment. She didn’t let go of my hand the whole way. Once we reached her door, she opened the door and sent me over the threshold with a few sharp slaps to the back of my jeans saying, “Come on in, little boy, it’s time for your spanking.” Now, when she called me little boy while patting my bottom, I thought I might explode into my pants. See, besides spanking, I also have fantasies involving being treated like a little boy or a toddler. If not for the mild sting and tingle on my butt from when she had slapped me, I would have definitely thought I was dreaming. Melissa guided me to her bedroom and pulled out a chair from her vanity. Sitting down she beckoned me with a crooked finger. It may as well have been a tractor beam - I immediately walked to her side, unable to resist. From this vantage point, I had a great view of her spectacular tits, along with her waiting lap. She looked up at me smiling and said, “OK birthday boy, let’s get those pants down.” I reached for my belt buckle, but she quickly swatted my hands away, insistent on baring my bottom herself. Undoing my pants and pushing them to my ankles, Melissa then quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me across her lap. Resting her hand on my boxer-clad bottom, she said, “Wait now, I promised you a bare bottom spanking, didn’t I?” “Yes ma’am.” The words came out of my mouth reflexively. I couldn’t believe the headspace she had me in. Melissa didn’t seem to notice or mind, and instead just yanked down my underpants exposing my bare butt. “So you’re 25 today, right? I think I’ll give you 25 with my hand and another 25 with my hairbrush for good measure.” Before I could (pretend to) protest about an extra 25 spanks, she started smacking. As this was my first ever real spanking, I was surprised by how much sting she could deliver with just her palm. I squirmed a little, but mostly relished the heat in my seat as my cock throbbed against Melissa’s thighs. After 25 smacks with her hand, I felt her reach back to the vanity and I held my breath as I waited for the brush. I had fantasized for so long about a bare bottom hairbrush spanking, but now had a bit of trepidation about what it might actually feel like. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Melissa spanked me in earnest, like she was trying to prove a point. I gasped at first, and squirmed a bit, but held still after she firmly wrapped her arm around my waist. I took my 25 smacks and soon had a blushing backside. Melissa put down the brush and caressed my stinging butt, teasing my crack with her fingertips. My dick continued throbbing and dripped readily. Patting me gently, Melissa instructed me to stand. “You took your spanking like such a good boy, I think you deserve a reward,” she said as she started to fondle me through my underwear. “Uh oh, looks like you had a little accident. Better get you out of these.” She pulled down my boxers and slid my member into her mouth in one motion. I thought I might cum right then and there. The anticipation had been so intense and now I was in ecstasy. Melissa took my cock from her mouth, stood and bent over the chair, lifting her skirt and sliding down her panties. I wasted no time stuffing her pussy with my cock. I caught a glimpse of my red backside in the mirror, which inspired me to return some of the spankings I had received to Melissa’s waiting ass. As my pink handprints appeared, I lost control and had an earthshaking orgasm. We flopped down in her bed. After we caught our breath, it wasn’t long before she was rubbing my still tingling butt, and my cock began to swell again. Melissa mounted me and rode my cock, tits bouncing, to two scream-inducing orgasms. After she had had her fill, she rolled over on her back and spread her legs. Grabbing me by the hips, she thrust my cock back into her and spanked my upturned ass mercilessly until I came again. We collapsed in a heap, and passed out as she rubbed my throbbing backside. Part 2 I fell asleep replaying the events of that night in my head again and again. That Melissa had been so keen to spank me, and her effectiveness in doing so indicated that mine was not the first bottom she had spanked. I was on cloud nine having met someone with a kinky streak. Just as I dozed off, I remembered she had called me “little boy,” and had commented that I’d had “an accident.” Could it be that Melissa was into things even kinkier thank spanking…? I woke with a start when the light hit my head. In the fog of my mild hangover, I wasn’t quite sure where I was. It slowly came back, and I grew excited as the memory of going over Melissa’s knee came back to me. As my cock stirred, I noticed some dampness. Rolling over slightly, I realized the sheets were wet all around me. Oh shit! Had I wet the bed?!? “Oh good you’re awake,” Melissa’s voice cut through my panic. “You, uh, peed the bed.” I was mortified. I jumped up, muttering and stammering. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that, that never happens, I’m so sorry, here let me clean it up, or should I just go, I’m sorry. I’ll just go…” I reached for my pants and Melissa grabbed my wrist. “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere.” I froze, feeling about two feet tall. “You go stand in the corner while I clean this up. You are in big trouble mister.” Her tone aroused me - I felt like a naughty three year old being punished. But I was still far too embarrassed to think anything sexy. I started walking to the corner, but Melissa hooked the waistband of my boxers saying “give me those little pee pants, I’ll put them in the wash with the sheets. You can do your corner time naked.” Compliance seemed to be my best way out of this dilemma, so I slipped them off and Melissa scooped them up. She then took me by the arm and walked me to the corner, propping me there with three sharp spanks to my bare butt. Standing in the corner, my brain still a bit foggy, I couldn’t tell what to make of the situation. I hadn’t wet the bed since I was nine years old. How could it have happened now? And I couldn’t sort out Melissa’s reaction. She seemed mad, but she wasn’t sending me away in disgust, or making me do her laundry… what did she have in mind? Behind me I could hear her stripping the bed, then rustling around in the closet, seemingly Melissa getting out some clean sheets to make the bed. After ten minutes or so, I heard from behind me, “Okay buster get over here.” I slowly turned around to find her sitting on the edge of the unmade bed wearing her silk night gown showing plenty of cleavage, her legs bare. A few things seemed to have been moved around or brought out of the closet, but all I could focus on was the hairbrush in her hand. Remembering its sting from the night before I was both excited and nervous. Melissa snapped me out of it. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I fumbled through the some more of my earlier responses, “I’m so sorry. I swear this has never happened to me. I’m so embarrassed, please don’t tell anyone, I’m really sorry, please…” She cut me off. “I don’t have much tolerance for immaturity. I believe firmly that if you act like a baby, you need to be treated as one. “So I’m going to put you over my knee again, and this time it won’t be a little patty cake spanking like you got last night. You need to learn a good lesson.” I swear I saw a smirk run across her face. She was being stern, but Melissa was clearly enjoying this. I took it stride and retorted, “Yes ma’am.” “Good boy.” Then she pulled me forward onto her lap. My stiffening cock slid neatly between her bare thighs. She started slow and firm with her palm, clearly warming me up for something more serious. It was just before she started a strong volley with the hairbrush that I noticed what was on the floor in front of me: a tub of baby wipes, a bottle of powder, and… an open package of Super Dry Kids diapers. There was no mistaking them - I had repeatedly tried to work up the nerve to order some SDKs, but had never gone through with it. I stared at the bag… No way, I thought, it can’t be… she’s not going to… diaper me?? Just then I felt the brush connect with my bare bottom. I suddenly lost all notion of the diapers in front of me and could only focus on the barrage raining down on my backside. Even though it hurt like hell, my cock remained at attention between Melissa’s thighs. The spanking continued and I started kicking my legs a bit. Melissa quickly threw one leg over top of mine to hold me in place. She started to scold. “You hold still and take your punishment little boy. Since you can’t behave like a big boy, I’ll have to treat you like a little boy. And little boys need their bare bottoms spanked regularly. I have a feeling this is not the last time I’ll have to put you over my knee young man.” I was being brave and trying to just take whatever she had to give me. But my ass hurt like hell! Just when I thought I might start crying, the spanking stopped. Melissa took me by the shoulders and guided me to sit on her lap. She held me and rubbed my stinging bottom. I was lost in the glow of her embrace, and the feeling in my bottom. Meanwhile my cock had become rock hard and was starting to drip. Melissa took notice. Grabbing me gently, she said, “oh my, look at you. You’re about to have ANOTHER accident. We need to do something about this. Lie down in the bed.” As she shifted me off her lap, the thought came rushing back to me - the diapers. I lay back on the bed just as Melissa bent down and slid a diaper from the package. I got a fantastic view of her ass peeking out of her nightgown. Coupled with the sight of her unfolding the diaper as she approached me, it was too much. My dick throbbed wildly with anticipation, pre-cum dripping down the shaft. “Ok little one, it’s time to get you back in diapers so you don’t make anymore messes. You’re lucky I had this bag of pampers on hand.” Why DID she have a bag of pampers in her apartment?? I started to wonder but was snapped out of it quickly as she moved closer to me. “Lift that bottom,” Melissa instructed with a wide grin. I complied, and she slid the SDK under me. As I lowered my stinging bottom onto the soft padding with a distinctive crinkle, my cocked bounced wildly up and down. Melissa started pulling the diaper up between my legs, but hesitated as it brushed against my throbbing member. “Hmm… this diaper isn’t going to fit over that thing.” She produced a bottle of baby oil from beneath the bed. Squirting some into her palm, she grabbed my cock and stroked me up and down. My hips thrusted and I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to burst. Melissa seemed to know too, as she pulled the diaper up against me. “Oh my! Is mommy’s little boy going to make a big sticky mess in his diapie?” she cooed. The sensation of the padding against my cock and the crinkly plastic between my legs was too much - I groaned and shot hot ropes of cum into the diaper. Melissa looked very satisfied as she reached for some baby wipes to clean me up. With my cock wiped down, she spread powder around my crotch liberally before pulling the diaper into place and fastening the tapes tightly. She smiled broadly and patted my padded crotch. “You stay put, I’ll be right back,” she said rolling me over and slapping my diapered behind. She left the room and I finally had a moment alone with my thoughts. My wildest fantasy had just been realized. I’d been spanked, stroked and diapered by a hot stern woman. I couldn’t believe my luck that Melissa had been so forward in initiating kinky sex. And that I’d been drunk enough to wet the bed… I had nearly forgotten my humiliation from earlier. I was so puzzled by how I could have done that, and then i realized I was laying in a spot on the bare mattress that should have still been damp, but it was bone dry. Then I saw a small bowl on the night stand that seemed out of place. I peered into it to find it full of water. Looking quizzically around the room, I then saw tucked in a corner of the closet, an open bag of Goodnites bed pads. It hit me all at once: I’d been set up! To be continued…

Sarah is 30 years old and can not take the stress of being a adult anymore and decides to go online and find a couple that will take care of her from now on.

I got in trouble looking at diaper sites again. So now I have a bedtime bare bottom paddling and a Tye Dye MegaMax diaper waiting out for me tonight. I have to think about it all day long.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've decided to consolidate these little scenes into a single series of posts I'm calling Raising Husbands. New entries will appear on Patreon approximately two weeks before I post them here. _______ I do a lot of long stories (too long sometimes) and wanted to try something very short. I suspect I'll post a number of what I'm calling these short scenes, composed mostly of dialogue, in this universe I've created. Right now, I think each scene will be entirely episodic and not connected to the others. Enjoy! Date Night “What would you like to drink,” the waitress asked the two of them. “First bottle is on me,” Jess said, and ordered a Brunello. “Are we celebrating something,” Susie asked, happy Jess ordered a bottle much more expensive than what she would ever get for herself. “Of course we are: it’s Friday.” The waitress returned with the bottle and served two glasses. “Let’s drink to something,” Jess excitedly said, the glass in her hand seeming to make the weekend official. Susie raised her glass. “A toast: to babysitters.” “Damn right,” Jess laughed. “And another toast: to our husbands, without whom a Friday night out wouldn’t be nearly so special.” “Amen,” Susie added before taking another drink. “Been a hell of a week,” Jess said, shaking her head. “But it’s Friday, and Ryan is spending the night.” “Good for you. What time are you picking him up tomorrow?” “Not until lunch time.” “Ugh. Jealous. Well, I’m sure you’ve earned it.” “You don’t know the half of it,” Jess said. “Four times this week, and it’s only Friday.” “Four?” Susie was surprised but not shocked. Two was average for Jess, three not uncommon, but to have to give Ryan four spankings in a week? That was unusual. “How did he manage to get in so much trouble?” “The really amazing part is it wasn’t five. I try, seriously – you know I do – to give him a little leeway, but it’s like the seasons change and he turns into this crazy person who wants to argue over every little thing. First spanking was over making his bed, if you can believe that. At his age!” Susie didn’t see perfectly eye to eye with her friend on discipline. She knew Ryan could be a handful, but Jessica had a hair trigger on her hairbrush, and Ryan’s butt paid the price for it. “Just because he wouldn’t make the bed?” “Because of the attitude that went with it. He actually threw a pillow at me.” “You’re kidding!” “And as soon as he did it, his eyes were like saucers. He knew immediately how much trouble he was in. Why he can’t think one step ahead … anyway, it’s the same struggle as usual, trying to get him to stick to the chore chart.” “You know there’s an easier way,” Susie said knowingly, swirling the wine in her glass. “We’re just going to disagree about that,” Jess replied. “I mean, he’s yours, so you do what you think is right, but Jake is one spoiled …” As very close friends, they were comfortable with some gentle joshing. It was hardly the first time of the fiftieth they’d discussed this. “He’s not spoiled!” “You do everything for him.” “It’s not everything, and I just made a choice: I could spend as much time trying to get Jake to behave like you do with Ryan and still end up redoing whatever it is I asked him to do, or I could just do it myself in half the time.” “Fair enough. Who did you find to sit anyway?” “Liz is home for the weekend.” “Your neighbor’s daughter?” “Mhmm. She’s good with him. You know with his potty problems, well, not every sitter is willing to deal with that.” “Another problem spanking his bottom for him could help.” “It would not,” Susie said. “You always say that.” “It couldn’t hurt. Well, it wouldn’t hurt you, anyway,” Jess snickered “Leave my Jakey alone. He’s doing the best he can. You make it sound so much worse than it is. It’s not the end of the world.” Susie always underplayed how much of a problem it was, but it was true as far it went – it was a problem, and it caused other problems, but it wasn’t the end of the world that Jake still had potty issues at his age. “You're right. I’m sorry.” “So how did you get to four anyway,” Susie asked. Even if she didn’t agree with how strict her friend could be, she wasn’t judgmental about it. A lot of people, maybe even most, were pro-spanking where they lived, even if Jess was on the leading edge of the trend. Susie’s curiosity got the better of her. “Bathroom issues, as a matter of fact. In my life, I have never seen such a mess.” “What happened?” “I let him take a bath on his own. He’s been wanting to for a while and trying to convince me. We even did a trial run with me just sitting in the bathroom and him bathing himself. I finally relented and let him solo.” “Well, with you expecting him to do so much cleaning, why not clean himself,” Susie said with a chuckle. “How bad was it?” “Standing water on the floor. He said he was playing tidal wave.” “Ceiling leak?” “No, thank god. I yanked him out of the tub, sat down on the toilet and pulled him right over my knee. He was soaked, I was soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad at him.” “Maybe you should have waited until you had calmed down.” “O, trust me, I did. That was just a preview. All that did was start his crocodile tears, but when I told him, ‘We are going to clean up this mess, and then mommy is going to spank your bottom blue’ the real tears started. I mean, granted thinking ahead is not his strong suit, but what did he think was going to happen? He got a little taste of natural consequences, too.” “How’s that?” “The towels were soaked. He just had to endure being cold and naked.” Susie grimaced. “I think even I would’ve spanked Jakey if he did something like that, but don’t you think that was a little harsh?” “It was only five minutes. We got the worst of it cleaned up, and I went and got a towel from my bathroom. I warmed him up, we had a little talk, got him spanked and then straight into bed. I cleaned up the rest.” “I wish that were the sort of bathroom issue I was dealing with.” “What does his doctor say?” “To just keep working at it. It’s not …” Susie shook her head and pour another glass. “He just won’t do it away from home, and even if we are home, he won’t unless I’m there.” “Still?” Susie nodded. “He just holds it and holds it until he can’t anymore, and then he tries to hide what happened. His daycare says it can’t keep happening.” “What do they want you to do?” “Give him an enema every morning before I bring him in, which his doctor says is the worst possible thing to do. She says he won’t ever learn if we do that.” “What are the other options?” “There’s the surgery, but I don’t want to do that yet. That’s why I like Liz so much. She’s so good about handling the episodes. I mean, he trusts her so much more because of how good she is about it, she’s the only sitter he likes enough that he won’t cry when I leave. If only his daycare would be half as good about it.” “Maybe you need to find a new daycare.” “I’m not sure that would help; I could see that just making it more difficult with the new place and new people. And the episodes obviously bother the staff a whole lot more than they bother Jakey. Of course, that’s kinda the problem since he won’t tell them, but he does seem to like it there.” “Well, I know I keep coming back to this but you’ve tried rewarding Jake. Maybe it’s time…” “He’s doing his best, Jessica. Why you think that’s the solution to every problem …” “It’s how I was raised. I always knew I’d be a spanker. My mom was; she gave me spanking authority over my brothers when I was … I’m not sure, exactly. Anyway, I gave Billy a spanking just last week, too. Wasn’t even babysitting. I was just visiting, and he got told for the millionth time to stop running in the house and didn’t stop, so I snagged him right out of the air. Mom got the paddle from the kitchen and finished the job.” “I know it’s the preferred way these days,” Susie said. “I just don’t … I don’t like doing it. Guess I’m just a softie. And Jakey is so … it’s not like I’ve never spanked him.” “Well, I know you’ve given him a few swats before.” “That counts as a spanking.” “I’ve given Ryan that much for a warning.” “Jakey is more sensitive than Ryan. I mean, for heaven's sake, he’s too embarrassed to tell his daycare teacher he has a load in is pants. Give Jake a pop on the butt, and he full on sobs. Ryan lives his life like he’s the second coming of Tarzan. A pop on the butt doesn’t even get through to him.” “If only. That would have prevented the third and fourth trip he took over my knee this week.” “What happened?” “Toy store.” “Why were you buying him a toy if he was being such a pill all week?” “Carrots and sticks. I promised him if he did the dishes every night for one week without needing to be reminded, he could pick out a toy under $30. Just goes to prove he’s fully capable of remembering his chores without being told. He just doesn't because he doesn't want to.” “So toy store meltdown?” “Big time. I did my very best to calm him down. I told him we could pick a different chore for him to remember, something a little harder, and that could be his reward later. Nope. I showed him other toys. Nope.” “That’s a shame. Turning what should’ve been a nice outing into something you both regret.” “Yeah. I guess I should’ve just marched him out of there at the first whine instead of trying to salvage it … I just wanted to do something nice. Anyway, I gave him a warning swat on his reset button, and it didn’t even faze him. He paused for, like, half a second before just getting louder. Then I’m that woman in the toy store, telling him, ‘Do you want a toy, or do you want mommy to spank your naughty bottom in front of all these people?’” “Guess he didn’t choose the toy,” Susie surmised. “Doesn’t that sort of thing embarrass you?” “Spanking him in public? In another time and place, maybe, but the people at the toy store have to be used to it. I’m convinced that’s why there are three benches right in front of the store. And pretty much every woman has had that moment … What I do find is embarrassing is Ryan behaving that way. If only he were as embarrassed by his own behavior as he was by the consequences. I spank-marched him back into the mall, and that’s when he turned red and couldn’t stop stammering apologies.” “Poor little guy,” Susie commented. “I mean, I know he earned it, but it’s not entirely his fault.” “How is it not his fault,” Jess asked incredulously. “He has poor impulse control. Sometimes they just can’t help it until it’s too late.” “Right. How inconvenient for him that he always seems to remember to control his impulses right around the moment I’m unbuttoning his pants. That and when I refer to myself as ‘mommy’ is when he’s suddenly so modest and embarrassed.” Jessica shook her head. “Anyway, you know how it is. Some people stop to watch a public spanking or think it’s good for their own to watch as a warning; others just keep walking. Makes no difference. I took his pants down, got the paddle out of the diaper bag, and put him over my knee. He managed to keep his composure for about two swats.” “At least you left his diaper up.” “O no, that came down as well. Public or not, he needed a bare bottom spanking. I don’t care if he is 36. If that boy needs a bare bottom spanking, I’m gonna bare and spank that bottom likes he’s 20 years old.” “Hold on,” Susie said and took out her vibrating phone. A wide smile formed across her face, and she practically bounced in her seat in excitement. “Yes!” “What? Share!” “Jakey did it!” “Really? Aww. That’s great. What exactly happened?” “He just did it. Liz and him were playing with his cars, and he just filled his diaper right there.” “He didn’t go and hide first?” “Nope. Ugh, so proud.” Susie tapped on her phone and waited a few seconds for a reply. “And then when she asked him if he had anything to tell her, he actually told her what he’d done. Liz is a miracle worker! Any other sitter, he would’ve tried to hold it until he was in pain and then gone and hide. The only other person besides me he’ll just go around when he needs to is his mother, and not even me sometimes. I’m ordering more wine.” “Champagne. Let’s celebrate.” “Even better! Ya know, I think the last time I had champagne was when Jakey and I got married. His mother told me he was diaper-shy when we started negotiating, but I didn’t think we’d still be working on getting him over it for this long.” She let out a short sigh of contentment, flagged down their waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne. “Anyway,” she said as the waitress walked away, “you said four. That was only three.” “Sorry?” “You said the toy store incident led to spankings three and four, but that was only three.” “O. Well, I got him rediapered and walked him out of the mall, sans pants of course. He cried most of the way home, and he was quiet and sulky all through dinner. We were doing the dishes together, and as soon as we were done – can you believe this – he actually asked me if we could go back to the toy store the next day.” “You’re kidding.” “Not even a little. I explained natural consequences to him for about the billionth time and that he would not be getting a new toy this week, and that’s when meltdown number 2 started. I got the paddle right back out and bared him all over again, spanked his butt, and put him straight to bed after we had some cuddle time. To his credit, he did apologize the next day.” “You definitely got a willful one,” Susie remarked. “It’s why his mother wanted me to have him. She knew he’d need a firm hand.” “Who did you get to babysit tonight?” Susie asked because Ryan had a reputation in the neighborhood; it wasn’t so easy finding a sitter for him. “My mom.” “Hopefully he’s being an angel for her.” “Hopefully, but if history is any guide, he’s probably in a corner right now listening to Billy get a spanking and waiting for his turn. Those two get each other so wound up, it’s almost a certainty if they’re together for than an hour they’re going to get themselves in trouble.” “How old is Billy now?” “Twenty-six.” “Is your mom having any luck finding him a wife?” “it’s hard. He’s not exactly what women want in a husband these days.” “It’s so unfair. It’s not his fault he has a big penis.” Jess shrugged. “You know how much more work they can be, all the behavioral problems those men seem to have.” “I think that’s a myth. If they’re well trained by their moms and their wives keep up with the training and milk them regularly, I think they’re angels.” “Then do you want him? Mom’s been building up a pretty sweet dowry.” Susie blushed. “Um, no. Sorry. One's enough for me.” Their champagne arrived, and they raised their glasses. Jess toasted, “To Jakey. Let’s hope tonight was a breakthrough and his diaper shyness is a thing of the past.” Susie toasted, “To Ryan. May he one day go an entire week without needing a spanking.” Jessica finished her flute of champagne in a swallow. “That’s how a wife who doesn’t have to pick up her husband until lunch time drinks,” Susie joked. “Damn right. I guess we should order some food before we go back to my place.” Susie looked around the restaurant. How quiet and clean and civilized it was, not a man in sight. Much as she looked forward to telling Jakey how proud of him she was for using his diaper like a good boy, she didn’t want Break Night/Date Night to end too soon.

This role play is about a mom and her little girl.

I'm a switch. Right now I'm looking for online relationships. I'm incontinent & wear pull ups. The little girl - I have no specific age. I guess it depends on my mood. I like to be old enough for a good bare bottom spanking but young enough for snuggles & stuffies. I need a daddy who will take care of me. I can be a handful b/c I'm often naughty, mischievous, & have tantrums, even though I know it'll get me put over daddy's knee. The mommy - I'm also looking for a little boy who needs a mommy. I'll take care of you & love you to pieces. Be forewarned, if you're naughty you're in BIG trouble! I'll put you over my knee & spank your bare bottom! I will not stop until the lesson is learned, no matter how much you cry. You will then be put in corner time with your bare bottom on display. When it's all said & done you'll get snuggles.

Chapter 1: With her lips pressed against the glass bottle, she took a large gulp. Emma didn’t know what she was drinking but only that it made her feel good. It made her feel numb. Her throat burned but she continued to drink, wanting to forget everything. Everyone. The room spun around and around and little twinkly lights sparkled in her eyes. The girl was aware that she was dead drunk. She was also aware that her best friend, Hannah was slumped over against Jack, more drunk than she. They’d broken up just yesterday. It was an ugly, sad fight that had not ended on the right note. But she had not expected him to move on so quickly. Not with Hannah. Never with her self declared sister. Emma giggled so hard that tears formed in her eyes and the bottle slipped from her hand, crashing into a million pieces, but nobody seemed to notice. Nobody ever noticed. Shouts sounded from the back porch. A game of beer pong was being played and In the kitchen, people mixed different drinks together, creating a cocktail of god-knows-what. But Emma stood in the living room. She hissed as the glass shards cut into her bare feet. The slight pain soon became overwhelming as the music pounded in her ears, sending a pulsing beat all the way to her soul. Her body swayed back and forth among the crowd of people. Now, she wasn’t usually into frat parties but was known to let loose every once in a while; and if she was desperate enough then would drink. She glared at the two of them as they sucked each other's faces and his hands groped her body. Emma had given Hannah the dress to borrow. It had never been a favorite of hers because it was too sparkly and tight. But it was exactly her friend’s style. Emma didn’t want it back now. She’d rather burn the damn outfit. Her feet moved on their own accord until she found herself outside, standing in the front yard. The grass was littered with red solo cups and over a dozen cars were parked in the driveway. She sat down and laid back, staring up at the starless night sky. “Emma?” Her head turned to the right. It was Julie Watkins. They were friends… kind of. “What’s wrong?” her eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re crying.” Was she? Her hand hovered below her blue eyes and fingertips were wet. She was. Julie sat down beside her. She was a nice girl. Her thick curly brown hair was pulled back into a long braid that snaked down her back. Her face was narrow, skin pale, and nose long and pointy. “I like your outfit.” Emma sloppily smiled. It was just a graphic t-shirt and denim skirt. Julie laughed. “I like your outfit as well.” Julie was nice. Everyone liked Julie, it was hard not to. Emma wore a plain black halter top and skinny jeans. She wasn’t quite sure where her shoes had gone. “Do you want to tell me why you’re out here crying?” the girl tried again. Emma shrugged. “Did you see Hannah and Jack?” “They’re drunk. I’m sure by tomorrow they won’t remember any of this.” Julie was too kind. How come she couldn’t be her best friend? “My parents are also getting divorced!” she blurted before she could stop herself. Her kind-of-friend was very understanding but Hannah had never been. Fuck Hannah Flynn. Fretfully, she tugged at a wavy lock of her auburn hair and Julie rubbed her back in soothing circles. She was crying again. “Do you want a ride back to your dorm? I haven’t drank anything.” Again, she shrugged, very indecisive at the moment. The whole reason she had come to college was to escape her parents who couldn’t manage to go a day without fighting. Emma thought it would be better being all the way across the country. The University of Seattle was an amazing school. “Let’s go,” said Julie as she stood up. “Do you know where your shoes are?” “No.” The girl sighed. “That’s alright. My car is just around the corner.” Clumsily she pushed herself up, leaning against Julie who was five feet and five inches tall. Emma was only five feet and two inches. She felt short in comparison. “I know what it feels like.” whispered Julie. “My parents divorced when I was eight. I’m not gonna lie, it’s not fun. But everything gets better in time. Just remember that.” The words passed right through her. Emma wasn’t sure what she’d remember by tomorrow. ooOoo She’d spent the past hour of the morning puking in the bathroom and after four ibuprofens for her pounding headache, still felt like shit. Her skin was pale, more so than usual, and clammy. The stuffy hot office only made it worse. The nineteen year old girl sat cross legged on the lumpy brown couch. Last night was a blur but she remembered them vividly making out on the couch. Hannah never came back to the dorm. It wasn’t hard to guess where she was. “Emmaline, can you answer me?” She looked up suddenly. Her counselor, Ms. Newman pursed her lips and shook her head. Her brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun and glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry?” “Are you aware that you’re failing several of your classes? You got into this school on an academic scholarship and your grades right now are less than exemplary. You don’t want to be kicked out, do you?” Did she? Emma really couldn’t answer. “I-I’m going through stuff. I’m sorry but right now isn’t really the best time for… anything.” she tried to explain herself, truly she did. “We were understanding in the beginning but there comes a time when you need to pick yourself up.” Ms. Newman sighed. “You can’t continue this way. Many of your professors have expressed the same concerns.” There was no hiding that she was hung over. “Emma, there are people who want to help you. You’re only a freshman and have so much to look forward to. I understand your parents divorce has hit you hard but it helps to talk to others sometimes. You don’t have to struggle with this alone.” Sharing her feelings with strangers was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d rather jump in front of a train. “I’m going to give you the name of a therapist. She’s free and I’ve sent many students to her before. Trust me, they’re completely new people after they're done with her.” Emma could tell that it wasn’t really a choice and took the piece of paper reluctantly. This woman could spout whatever nonsense she wanted but nothing would change. Her life sucked and would always be that way. Afterward, she went back to her dorm, prepared to take another nap but stopped short. “I’m so sorry!” Hannah exclaimed upon seeing her. Mascara ran down her face and a dark tightly coiled curl stuck to her wet cheek. “I-I was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight and it just sorta happened!” Maybe if she had been thinking rationally, she would’ve been more understanding but at the moment she wanted to strangle the curl and watch as her dark skin lost color. “Fuck you, Han.” her voice was cold. “Of course you went after Jack McCroy! He’s mine-” “You broke up… again! For like the hundredth time!” her voice rose an octave. “I’m sorry that I made a mistake but don’t get angry at me. It’s not my fault that you’ve got a shitty life!” Hannah knew that she had hit her where it hurt. “Em… I- I didn’t mean tha-” “Get out.” Her hands formed into a fist at her side, knuckles white. “Get the fuck out!” She didn't need to ask again. ooOoo Her major was political science. Ever since she was a little girl, Emmaline Rodgers had dreams of becoming the first female president of the United States. However, as she grew older those dreams were quickly squashed as she realized what a misogynistic world she lived in. Now, she just hoped to be something. Anything other than a college drop out. Before, Emma thought she didn’t care but now took it back. The girl didn’t work so hard throughout high school and leave home only to end up right back there. She was determined to succeed. To do better than her miserable parents who they themselves never completed college. Her mother worked the farm and her father owned the local corner store. They didn’t make a ton of money but it was enough to survive off of the necessities. Townsford, Connecticut was a town of about one thousand. It was more a rural farming community with one stoplight in the entire county. Everyone knew everyone and it was not a good place to stand out. That’s why she had always hated her vibrant red hair. She got it from her father. Emma had always considered herself kind of a shy girl. Never straying far away from what she knew but there was a desire that burned inside her to escape the deadbeat town which is exactly what she did. The girl was doing more than her parents ever did but it wasn’t enough. That’s why a week later she met Marina Tischner. The woman was kind and almost had a motherly feel to her. She had straight blonde hair and a heart shaped face. She was dressed casually in a blue turtleneck, dark jeans and boots. The room was small but comfortable. The walls were painted a mustard yellow and there was one small window which was the only light in the room. In front of her was a coffee table and a chair on the other side. An icy glass of water and a bowl of mints were situated in front of her. She was surprisingly easy to talk to, something Emma had sworn she would never do. Everything came pouring out of her mouth at rapid speed: Hannah and Jack. Her parents. Hopes and dreams. The only sound she heard was the sound of the pencil tip against the paper as Dr. Tischner took down notes. “Are you happy with your life right now?” “Honestly?” her voice shook. “No. Sometimes I wish I could go far away and be a different person, live a second life. Don’t get me wrong, I want to try. I don’t want to give up but I’m just so tired of everything.” “It’s normal to feel that way. Everyone does at some point.” She supposed the woman was right but Emma just felt so alone. There was no one to save her. “Why don’t you have a sip of the water.” Dr. Tischner nodded toward the glass. “We’ve been talking for a while.” ooOoo Emma’s eyes blinked open but quickly shut, the bright light caught her by surprise. She tried again, this time more slowly and hesitant. Something wasn’t right. A headache thundered at the front of her head and vision blurred around the edges. She felt dead, unable to feel her body, everything was numb. “Mmmhph!” she tried to talk but it came out in a grumbled mess. There was something in her mouth that she couldn’t spit out. The girl was so tired. Her eyes began to flutter as different colors floated in front of her. “No, no Emmy.” a woman stood above her. “Nap time is over, you can go night-night later.” Nap time? Night-night? What the hell was going on? “You’re a silly girl. Just suck on your paci, there’s no need for tears.” Was she crying? The woman tapped the object lodged in her mouth. Without really thinking about it, Emma did as she said. It felt like she had been hit by a truck. Nothing made any sense. “Nurse Janie just has to change your diapee and then you can have some nummies.” Her blue eyes narrowed and brows furrowed together. Something really wasn’t right. Her heart raced against her chest and a high whine escaped her throat. The woman picked her up with ease and automatically her legs wrapped around her waist and head rested on her shoulder. The young girl suddenly stiffened, hearing a crinkle as the woman… patted her butt? “Don’t worry sweetie.” she cooed. “You’re just a little wet but it’s nothing I can’t take care of.” There was a sinking feeling in her stomach as her mind caught up with the lady’s words and realized what the feeling was between her legs. She was wearing a fucking diaper. “Nnn-nuhnuh!” she tried to speak but could only string together a few words. Her body shook and the woman just patted her back. Looking around the room it was empty, save for a bunch of oversized… cages? No. Cribs.There was a rocking chair positioned in each corner of the room and walls were painted a light pink. A rainbow, clouds, and a smiling sun were painted on the wall. It reminded her of her childhood doctor’s office. Except she wasn’t a child. She was nineteen years old. “Keep sucking your paci,” her voice remained calm. “We’re just going to get your little tush changed.” Breath. One, two, three, four… she began to count in her mind. Five, six, seven, eight… don’t think about what she’s doing. Don’t think about how she just strapped you to a fucking changing table that’s way to big for an actual baby. Tears burned in her eyes and a few trickled down her cheeks. She flinched at the touch of the wet wipe against her… her private area. No one but her had ever touched down there before. Her heart pounded in her ears and began to struggle against the straps that restrained her ankles and wrists. She was completely nakad. Oh dear god. Emma screamed, terrified of what was going to happen. The woman swatted her thigh and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Is little Emmy having bad thoughts?” “Effmfa!” her voice grumbled as she tried to correct the woman. Her name was Emma. Emmy was a baby name. “Oh Emmy, your head is just filled with bad big girl thoughts.” she ignored her protest. “I’m just getting you changed into your pullup and pretty dress. Your diapees are just for night time.” That wasn’t what she was upset about, at least not in that sense. Emma had to communicate with her that there had been some sort of mistake. She wasn’t meant to be here. The young girl kicked her legs as hard as she could, straining against the restraints. The woman clicked her tongue and blue eyes narrowed. “You’ve been such a good girl the past few days. Perhaps you're just hungry, it is time for your nummies after all.” Emma almost laughed in disbelief. Nummies? How old did she think she was? Five? And what did she mean by the past few days? Emma could only remember the beginning of the meeting with Dr. Tischner. The woman bent down, opening a drawer and pulled out a thick pullup. Her cheeks pinkened as Emma wailed from behind the rubber object, unable to escape. “Oh, you’ll get nummies soon. I know how much you like nursie’s milk. Relax and suck on your paci.” But she couldn’t relax because a sudden storm raged at the front of her mind- a lightning strike, a clap of thunder. Her eyes blinked rapidly, persisting through the pain, trying to remember. But her mind was blank. How had she ended up here? ooOoo A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and read, I really appreciate it! I’ve already started writing the second chapter and it should be uploaded soon!

(This story is part of an art trade with Patricktricks on DA, so credit to them for the base idea. I don't normally do furry stuff so it was a bit of a challenge. I hope it works well for you anyway)"I don't belong in here, I don't belong in here," the former assistant mayor said as she hugged her legs and rocked back and forth. "They are the savages, not me. I don't belong here..."It was a mantra that had become common to her since she was first put into the small, grey cell that was now her home. "I was in the right, it was the right thing to do, better for all of us..." she continued as she began to suck at the end of her own hoof.It was a train of thought she knew she shouldn't go down. It never ended well when she went there, and she knew soon she'd be sniffling and crying on her bed, looking as pathetic as they all thought she was from the beginning. However, she also told herself it was right, and when her mood was in the wrong place, she couldn't help."I don't belong here, they do. I..."A loud clang came from the door to her cell. She jumped up and looked at a tall feline in a guard's uniform. "Miss Bellwether, talking to ourselves again, are we?"Bellwether snarled. "That's MAYOR Bellwether to you."The guard laughed. "Not anymore. It's prisoner Dawn Bellwether to me, and you don't make much of an impressive mayor crying in your bed like that."The sheep kept glaring at her. "I still got further then you. I was at the top- second in the city! And that was with all the hurdles that comes with being a sheep in a city run by predators." She made a look of disgust. "Unlike you. All the advantages, and here you are, a prison guard! Seems fitting for a savage creature.""Mhmmm," the guard replied. "You know we aren't all just mindlessly violent. We can be kind and caring as well.""As if! No savage predator could take care of anything. They are all just destroy, destroy, destroy. Dumb beasts. That is why I was right to try to take control."She smiled. "Ohhh I think you'd be surprised about that." She cocked her head to the side and hit the bars with her baton again. "Anyway, once again I came to offer to take you out of solitary. You've been in here long enough, and are able to go back into general."Bellwether's look of superiority turned to one of fear. "Out there... with them!? No! Are you insane! You don't know how cruely they would treat me! They just hate anyone like me no matter what I do!"The guard leaned in closer. "Oh do they? You mean all those animals you called violent savages and looked down on? Those are the ones who are mean to you no matter what."Bellwether gulped and nodded.The guard continued. "You know, maybe I should bring you out anyway. We are basically doing you a favor by letting you stay in here. We don't have to, this isn't your assigned cell. We could just put you back in with the rest of them, see what they think of your opinions. Perhaps we could even tell them about all the things you've been saying...""No! No! Please no! I.. AAA!" Bellwether looked down at her prison jumper, and noticed a damp spot. "No no no," she said again for an entirely different reason. She put both hands to her waist as she wet herself out of fear. She looked up pleadingly at the guard. "Please don't do that. Please let me stay here where its safe from those beasts. You have no idea how savage..." she stopped, remembering the person she was speaking to was one of the "predators" as well. "Please don't," she whimpered, and finished.The guard laughed again. "Awww I'm sorry little sheep, didn't mean to scare you that much. Tell you what, I'll go get you a clean jumper, and we will let you stay in here a bit longer, ok? Nice and safe. A poor cute widdle lamb like you can't handle it out there with the mean savages." She turned to walk away."Don't talk to me like...!" She began, then stopped herself. "Alright, thank you."...Bellwether woke up slowly, feeling the family softness of her blanket and footed pajamas."Mph," she said and rolled over to her side, feeling her diaper crinkle as she did. It sloshed a bit, she could feel that she had wet herself overnight, but it didn't feel like it had leaked.There was a stuffed sheep doll beside her. She grabbed a hold of it and pulled it close, then suckled a bit on her pacifier. Though she was awake, her mommy wasn't there yet, so she knew it wasn't time to get up. No issue as she was still relaxing, and there was no way out of the crib anyway."Hi there sweetie! What a good little lamb, sleeping all through the night!" Her mommy said, filling Bellwether's heart with glee.Her mommy turned on her light and came to the crib. Bellwether felt hands grabbing her on either side. "Lets check that diaper of yours sweetie, to see if you had an accident! Then we can have breakfast, ok?""Yes mommy," she said through her pacifier. She nodded enthusiastically, then looked up.She started back. The face staring back at her wasn't what she expected. It didn't look like her mommy. In fact, it wasn't a sheep at all. Instead, it was a giant cat. Was it a lynx? A tiger? Bellwether hadn't learned all the animals yet, but she knew it was a predator, and those were to be feared.Except... she wasn't scared. Not at all. Instead, she felt the same comforting feeling she always wanted to feel with her parents. She tried to think, and couldn't put any other face to the name "mommy," all the kept coming up was this same cat. She knew she recognized the cat, but couldn't think of any other name then that. Of course she told herself, that is my mommy. She smiled, and let herself be lifted."Uh oh, looks like someone wet her diaper! Well, we can get you changed, but I don't think you are quite ready to try pull ups yet anyway, are you?"She shook her head. "No mommy," she said. Of course not, she thought, I'm just a little baby, and this is my mommy, here to take care of me. This cat, my mommy... she is my mommy... she is my mommy... Strange colors swirled at the edge of her vision.

Hey everyone! I would like to say this is my first time trying to write, but that's not true. I have started a couple stories that ended up fizzling out just after starting them. This time, I'm taking on a smaller scope for my story, so hopefully I can actually see this one through. My plan is for the entirety of this story to only be 3 or 4 chapters, and I basically have the general outline for how everything will go, so this shouldn't be too difficult to complete. Anyway, this story has most of it's plot beats based on a real life occurrence with my partner. Obviously both characters are above the age of 18. Please share any comments/critique you have and thanks for reading! Date Night to Diapers “Why did I have to show-off and get the spiciest curry?” Dylan wondered to himself as he squirmed in the passenger seat of his boyfriend’s sedan. The Indian restaurant they had just dined at was famous for serving a particular lamb dish that was tear-inducingly spicy. Wanting to show off to Curtis, his boyfriend, Dylan ordered this specialty dish without a second thought. He generally enjoyed spicy food, and the meal was definitely delicious, but the spiciness was unlike anything Dylan had ever experienced. Through the half-hour it took them to eat their meal, Dylan must have drunk about a half-gallon of water. Add on to it the almost full pint of beer that he chugged at the end of the meal (not going to let $5 go to waste), and Dylan was currently in dire straits. “What’s up kiddo?” Curtis asks from beside Dylan as the car pulls off the highway. Kiddo. Dylan never knew how to feel about his boyfriend’s choice in nickname. It is true that Dylan, standing at 5’7”, was dwarfed by his boyfriend, a giant at 6’4”. And sure, they had done some ageplay stuff over the past few months, but the term made sense during the roleplay. Curtis used the term to refer to Dylan all the time though, and Dylan wasn’t a kid in his day-to-day life. He was an adult. Dylan had never even heard of ageplay or ABDL before he met Curtis. It was adorable the first time Curtis brought up his interest in the fetish a couple of months prior. He was so nervous and blushing so hard that it was one of the only times Dylan ever felt like the more manly person in the relationship. Dylan agreed to try it out after this initial conversation. He could tell that it was very important to Curtis, and also didn’t see it as being too gross or out there. Thus, over the past few months, Dylan had found himself wearing GoodNites a half dozen times, and even a full-blown ABDL diaper twice per his boyfriend’s request. Most of the time, Dylan simply wore the garment as an element of their foreplay. The last couple times, though, Curtis had convinced Dylan to wet his padded underwear. As he had come out to find he didn’t mind wearing them, Dylan though that wetting them might turn out similarly. Dylan kind of hated to admit it, but he definitely didn’t mind wetting them either. He thought that having his own excrement in contact with his body would be disgusting, but the protective underwear always did a good job of absorbing his urine, leaving a warm, damp, and squishy cocoon around his groin. Now shifting in his seat, foot tapping so fast that it would put Neil Peart to shame, Dylan blushed as he recalled these most previous roleplaying sessions. During those times, he had actually found it surprisingly difficult to wet his diapers, even when he had to go. At this point, Dylan was pretty sure that any slip in his concentration would result in a genuine accident, not one forged in roleplay. “Nothing,” Dylan blurted out meekly. He tried to hold himself still, so that Curt wouldn’t think something was up. He was fairly successful, though his foot kept tip-tapping away. The restaurant was all of 30 minutes from the couple’s house – 25 minutes on the highway, 5 minutes the rest of the way home. Dylan knew this, and as they had just turned off the highway, he knew that he had to make it just 5 minutes until they were home. Just 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes of sitting with a bursting bladder. A bladder that seemed to be continuously filling and putting more and more pressure on his muscles. A bladder that seemed to have a pain growing deep inside it. A bladder that – “Can you drive a bit faster?” Curtis glanced sideways at Dylan, giving him a look of suspicion before returning his gaze to the road and pressing his foot slightly harder into the accelerator. “Sure thing, kiddo.” This time the childish term of endearment didn’t even register with Dylan. The entirety of the outside world might as well not have mattered to Dylan at this point. His entire life at this moment was wholly dedicated to his internal struggle of not having a genuine accident. Dylan didn’t even realize it, but his hands had made their way down to his groin and were pushing down – anything to help in this desperate time. Eyes intensely shut, Dylan put all his effort into clamping down on his bladder. At this point, one wrong move would spell disaster. As his concentration slipped to being 100% on keeping his pants dry, Dylan once again began dancing around in his seat like a raver on ecstasy. This made it explicitly obvious to Curtis what Dylan was going through, if it wasn’t already clear before. Curtis kept throwing quick glances at Dylan. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Was his boyfriend really going to have a genuine accident, something that only happened in his dreams? Maybe not. They were now less than a mile from their home - and salvation for Dylan. Curtis saw the set of train tracks by their home coming up, and like the 100 other times he drove down this road, he put his foot lightly on the breaks to slow down. “No! Don’t slow down!” Dylan practically shouted as his head flipped up and eyes shot open. Partly listening to Dylan’s instruction, but mostly startled by the sudden outburst, Curtis lifted his foot off the brake. The small sedan hurtled towards, and soon over, the set of tracks. Dylan’s outburst had been short sighted. Going over the tracks at such a high speed caused the car to nearly lift off the ground, before it came crashing back down, giving a huge jostle to the inhabitants. That was it for Dylan. The enormous bump had caused his intense concentration to falter. As the stranglehold on his bladder gave way, Dylan’s mouth fell agape and he sharply inhaled. Almost instantly a huge surge of urine shot out of him, splattering against the front of his boxers, followed by a continuous torrent. Unlike the pretend times when he had wet a diaper, his undies stood no chance to stop the flood. Dylan could feel the cotton of his briefs instantly become warm and saturated, with the wetness quickly spreading elsewhere throughout his groin. Not a half-second later, Dylan could feel his accident permeating through his khakis and getting his hands, still pressed firmly into his groin, wet. Dylan couldn’t really process what was happening. The immense relief combined with the intense humiliation of having an accident while not even a foot from his lover brought out emotions Dylan had never experienced. Dylan’s head panned down as he removed his hands from his crotch, now being able to view the ever-growing expanse of his accident with no ability to stop it. While some of his pee managed to soak the front of his pants, most of Dylan’s urine began trickling between his legs. Like a river feeding into a lake, the stream of urine soon soaked through the bottom of Dylan’s khakis and formed a warm pool in the leather seat. At long last, Dylan could feel the stream slow to a dribble and eventually stop. Dylan slowly raised his hands to cover his face, the pleasure from finally releasing his aching bladder being the only thing keeping him from full-on crying. The last two-hundred feet of the drive were emotional mayhem for Dylan as he was flooded with feelings of pleasure, guilt, relief, humiliation, and – most confusing to Dylan – arousal as he could feel his penis growing slightly hard within his urine-soaked pants. The car finally came to a complete stop within the couple’s garage. The sound of the engine stopping snapped Dylan out of his trance and he opened his eyes. “Oh, honey…”, Dylan heard Curtis finally remark on his accident. Of course, Curtis knew of his boyfriend’s accident as it was occurring, but didn’t want to make a comment until he was sure Dylan had completely finished. Whipping his misty, tear-filled eyes towards his boyfriend, Dylan exclaimed “I’m so sorry! I tried to hold it!”, not even realizing how childish he sounded with his outburst. “Let me close the garage door. That way, the neighbors can’t see and this can be just our little secret. You wait right there. I’ll come around and get you. Alright, Kiddo?” Curtis reassured Dylan as he pressed the garage door button once more. Dylan nods slowly at Curtis before returning his gaze downward. The sound of the garage door closing did a good job at masking Dylan’s quiet sobs while Curtis quickly stepped around to the passenger side door. At the sound of his door opening, Dylan tearfully looked up at Curtis. He unconsciously lifted his arms up towards his boyfriend, pleading to be helped. “Look at you…Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Curtis grabs the outstretched arms and helps Dylan up. As they march into the house, Dylan’s mind is once again elsewhere. Kiddo. For some reason, being called that by Curtis in this moment was reassuring, comforting, loving, not demeaning like it usually felt. He had roleplayed as a child for Curtis before, but now he was unintentionally living it out. As he walked, Dylan could feel the excess pee from the childish misdeed slowly trickle down his pantlegs, with some droplets even falling off, leaven a trail of urine from the car to the house. The tears in Dylan’s eyes made it impossible for him to see, and he relied entirely on Curtis as the two walked through the threshold into the house.

Triggered by a mention in a different thread. Have you ever been on a spanking horse or bench? fi so tell us about the experience. Was it just once or twice or a regular thing.

Good morning all. I signed up today just to share with you today what I think about punishments because it is a subject that I know very well and on which I have meditated for years. I don't want to develop friendships with anyone or get into debates, I don't have time for that. But be free to speak up and say what you think. My thinking is constantly changing and evolving. My only goal in writing this to give people ideas about punishment in Cg/AB roleplaying, nothing more. This is a topic that may seem simple and straightforward, but it is actually quite the opposite, because a punishment can miss the point. Yes it is possible to make mistakes by giving a punishment. To begin, you have to differentiate between punishments and funishments. Funishments are punishments that are so light that they become pleasant, funny and exciting to receive. They are most often given, and desired, for an erotic purpose. But funishments are not punishments. The purpose of punishment is not to be pleasant, but to deter a person from having a certain behavior or engaging in certain situations so that they do not happen again. This is the first question to ask yourself: by punishing, do I encourage or discourage good or bad behavior? The sole purpose of punishment is to discourage bad behavior. If you want to encourage good behavior then we talk about rewards and the rewards should in no way look like punishments because you will mix things up in your AB's head. Today I will only talk about punishments. Now, how do you make punishments effective? What makes a punishment accomplish its purpose of deterring bad behavior? Well, a punishment has to be appropriate for the fault committed, without exaggeration, and it has to be given for the right reason, at the right time and in the right way. We will explore all these points now. First, a punishment that is appropriate is a punishment that is as severe as the fault is serious. So a small fault equals a small punishment, and a serious mistake equals a severe punishment. If your punishment is not severe enough then the bad behavior is likely to continue, and if the punishment is too severe your little one may view it as unfairness and it may affect their trust in the care taker. One thing you should absolutely avoid is punishing with anger. To punish is not to take revenge. To punish is to educate. If you do it with anger the only thing it will do is undermine the relationship between you and your little one. We all have our own unique code of honor that makes certain things more important to us than others. Many of you have probably even decided to write rules for your little one. While this is a very good thing, neither should all the rules be written down. It is normal to have unwritten rules because the caretaker has to improvise and adjust to the situation. At least make sure that the rules that are written down are the rules that are of utmost importance. Accordingly, if a written rule is broken it is normal for the punishment to be more severe than if it is an unwritten rule. Second, now you might find it weird, but just because your little one did something wrong doesn't mean he has to be punished. How is it possible? Well you have to look at the context of things. Maybe your little one didn't quite understand the rules. If you haven't been clear enough with him, it's your mistake. If you've given him a ton of rules, normal that he can't learn them all at once, you have to be more patient and work with him to get him to learn them. Your little one may not be feeling very well, he may be sick. Maybe the situation meant that your little one had no choice but to break the rules. Is it a mistake with mitigating circumstances, a mistake made without bad intention, a mistake made by negligence, or a mistake made on purpose? If your little one is cranky or cheeky because he's tired, he doesn't need to be punished, he needs to take a nap. If it’s a real bad behavior then you will punish him. Third, punishment at the right is a punishment that is given as soon as the bad behavior is noticed. Not a minute later, or after the TV show, after dinner, or after whatever. No the punishment must be given immediately. You stop what you are doing, stop your little one from doing what they are doing and start the process of punishment. On the other hand, if you are in public you must immediately inform him of his bad behavior and that he will be punished when he returns home. There isn't a whole lot of ways to punish effectively. First, the offense must be noted. You stop what you were doing. You stop your little one in what he is doing. You point out to him what he did wrong, or even better you ask him to tell you what he did wrong, further proof that he knew the rule. Then you have to tell him what his punishment will be and you have to stick to what you tell him. Then you do what you said, nothing more, nothing less. After the punishment, you need to go back to what he did wrong and discuss it with him to see if he understood. Finally you comfort him. Regarding the type of punishment, it should not always be corporal punishment. Spanking shouldn't be your first solution. You can try, if it matches the age of your little one, to put him in the corners, to make him write and repeat sentences, to make him take a disciplinary nap. If that doesn't work, you will move on to corporal punishment next time. You can even add corporal punishment to a punishment I just mentioned if the offense is more severe or repeated. Among the effective corporal punishments I see only two, passing a bar of soap in the mouth of the little one when it concerns inappropriate language, or spanking. Regarding the spanking, it must be given directly on the buttocks and not elsewhere. Never hit the face or any other fragile part as this can really hurt and bruise the flesh. Finally, if even physical punishments don't work enough, go to the next step, which is to take away privileges from your little one: no more TV, no more video games, earlier bedtime, all of his food mashed, spoon fed. You take away is privileges away until you feel he is willing to play by the rules. I'm tired so that's all for today.

Hey all, I thought I’d drop this here to get some fresh feedback and hopefully kick my motivation back into gear as I would really like to get this on flowing again. I’ll try and update one or two chapters at a time. I also have this posted elsewhere, so if you feel that it’s familiar... you’re probably right. There will be flashback chapters involved which I will try to identify with italics or something else where possible. Chapter 1 Annabelle knelt on the pink, woven mat. The strands of the mat dug into her knees and calves, the muscles of her thighs tightened to support her weight. The cold surface of the painted wall rested firmly against her nose, as her eyes searched for something to look at and distract her idle mind. The short skirt rested at the top of her heels and the lower part of the thigh while the pink shirt that she was wearing had tightened around her chest and had risen, exposing her waist and lower back. Behind her, Kyle stood still. His phone in his hand in order to set the timer indicating how long Annabelle punishment would last. The swear word that had gotten her into this situation was 4 letters long and the first letter was the sixth letter in the alphabet, dictating a twenty-four-minute duration for the punishment. Kyle watched as her body slowly began to shake, the strain from her muscles echoing throughout her body. He walked away to continue the preparations for the pair's dinner, while Annabelle was left to remain where she was for the remaining time. Annabelle and Kyle had been living together for six months prior to this point and had been romantically connected after they met online only three months prior. Kyle spent his days working from home as a website developer, conveniently able to keep watch on Annabelle who was unemployed by day and his little princess by night. The two met through the kink equivalent of Facebook, Fetlife; a place for people who enjoy something more, to meet, learn and explore themselves. They supported each other through good times and tough ones too, Annabelle had been diagnosed with a form of depressive disorder. Dealing with this illness and supporting Annabelle through it had been new challenges for Kyle and he never left her side, even when things became difficult. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The alarm rang, excitement filled Annabelle's chest as she heard Kyle's steps moving through the kitchen towards her. Each step Kyle took excited Annabelle further, the vibrations continued up her legs and into her chest, fuelling the butterflies. Coarse fingers snuck over her shoulder, gently gripping her chin and guiding her nose away from the wall. Craning her neck to follow her guided chin, her eyes meet up with his, the darkness of his iris' bejewelled by a ring of emerald green. She stared long and deep into his eyes, waiting for his voice to grace her waiting ears. "Annabelle," Kyle spoke firmly. "Yes, Daddy?" She responded almost dreamily. "Why did Daddy have to put you into the corner?" He asked, remaining firm yet still presenting a cheerful manner. "B'cause I swore and said naughty words," Annabelle responded childishly. "Good girl." Kyle praised, he slowly straightened his back while guiding the little girl in front of him from her knees and onto her feet. As Annabelle straightened up she was pulled into a strong and warm embrace, the warmth from his chest spreading through her body remedying her pain from the extended kneeling and re-enforcing the praise given. The small gesture signified a lot to Annabelle, it was love, forgiveness, faith, and dedication all crammed into a single action. A small sadness formed when his hold loosened and he released her but she knew there would be more to come later. "Come on princess, set the table for me and dinner will be ready soon," Kyle said, issuing a task as if he were talking to a child. Kyle and Annabelle went on with their duties and Annabelle found her seat at the table once it was set. Without much of a wait, Kyle brought out a chicken parmigiana with mashed potatoes and vegetables. While the portion of each serving was the same, there was a segmented, Disney princess plate with the roughly chopped parmigiana was sat in front of Annabelle, clearly indicating her childlike status. "Daddy!" she said irritably, her face puffing up with a brewing tantrum running shallow beneath her skin. "I wanna eat big wif you tonight". The whining continued. With a strict, stern tone he put a stop with it, turning the tantrum red into a shade of embarrassment. "Anna bear, you aren't nearly old enough to use such big cutlery or eat proper food. If you want to throw such a babyish tantrum I won’t hesitate to bring out the blender." He knew the threat of baby mush would stop her in her tracks, she had pushed him before and the result was less than pleasant for her. Silenced and put in place, Annabelle commenced eating using just the smaller fork provided to her by Kyle, it was pink and had Minnie Mouse stickers on it, the prongs blunt and shorter than normal forks. As she began eating she felt a soft urge building in her lower stomach, she knew what it meant although didn't want to announce it, even if it was just her and Kyle. As his mouthful was being consumed, he eyed off his little princess, he noticed the awkward squirming right from the start and knew the tell-tale sign. "Princess..." he started as he swallowed his mouthful, "Do you need to potty?" He saw the wave of red rush across her face, telling him how right he was. He knew that the pink, princess pull-up was dry as he had seen it when she had been bending over to set the table. Annabelle hesitated when he said "Potty", for her it was a word that brought on high levels of humiliation and a certain level of truth. As a kid, she had always had bladder problems and wet the bed until her later teens. Her parents had tried several different solutions although the only consistently effective practice was a plastic sheet and thick terry nappies. As she had grown older she rebelled and often refused the night time protection, even with soaking wet outcome in the morning. When she met Kyle, nothing changed until after she had slept with him. The morning after, as a result of Annabelle’s rebellion, both of them were drenched in pee. To Annabelle's surprise, Kyle's reaction was a fresh mix of admonishment and compassion, a reaction that she had never experienced before. Chapter 2 (Flashback) *** "Is this a regular thing for you? Peeing in someone’s bed?" Kyle asked calmly, causing the blood in her cheeks to rise in embarrassment. He knew that she wasn't going to answer without some provocation. Gently he braced his fingers beneath her chin, raising her vision until she had no choice but to look at him. He didn't say a word. The silence his weapon of choice. His previous question echoed in his eyes until she could no longer withhold her response. "No. Not someone else's bed at least." Annabelle mumbled, hoping that her undertones would satisfy Kyle's questioning. "Speak up Anna, I can’t understand mumbling." Undertones of an order ran through Kyle's voice as he grew impatient for an answer. Annabelle squashed down her hesitation and repeated herself so that he could hear. Her cheeks blushed as she finished, she had never had to talk about this with someone before. Kyle processed her answer, he assumed that the accidents as being normal for her and not wanting to cause too much discomfort he left his questioning there. "Go have a shower, I'll clean this up. When you're done getting dressed and I'll meet you downstairs." He said in his positive manner, no trace of the ordering tones but there was no room left for her to debate. As she slowly got up and walked towards the bathroom, Kyle set to stripping his mattress and setting them aside for his trip to the laundromat later in the day. He went downstairs and started to prepare some breakfast for the both of them. Meanwhile, in the shower, Annabelle was trying to process the conversation. Her predictions of disgust and anger had been squashed by his understanding and lack of judgment. Her mind zoned out under the water, the soothing hot water removing the urine from her body and the false fears from her mind. Upon coming out of her blank daydream, Annabelle exited the shower and grabbed a nearby towel and dried herself thoroughly until she realized a small problem. The underwear and top she had worn in bed that night were now soaked and unable to be worn. The only thing she had were the jeggings she had removed before going to sleep, thinking quickly she went to Kyle's wardrobe and found a basic grey hoodie on a low shelf. Knowing it would be an ideal, warm replacement for a top, she picked it up and pulled it down over her head and chest. Annabelle started to walk back to retrieve her pants until some purple packaging from where she had gotten the hoodie, managed to catch her eye. She pulled the package out from the clothes and quickly identified it as youth night pull-ups. Unsure of Kyle's family she didn't think much of the product, although curious as to why it was in his room she returned the already opened package to where she found it and continued to find and put on her jeggings. As she made her way towards the kitchen, the material from her jeggings started to rub and irritate her crotch. In only 6 steps it had gotten to the point of 'too much' causing Annabelle to dart back to the bedroom and take off the pants, look around to find a solution to her problem. A thought ran through her mind, blocking the way for any other ideas to come through, the pull-ups in the closet. Annabelle tries to dismiss the idea, but couldn't think of any alternative. Quickly she pulled a pull-up out of the already-opened package, opening it up she remembered times that her parents had attempted to use these to protect her own bedding, unsuccessfully. Pushing through the memories, she stepped into the garment and pulled it up to her hips, the waistband feeling a little tight but still managing to keep the thick padding against her skin. Annabelle looked down and glimpsed the Tinkerbell waving back at her, a mix of adoration and disgust washed over her at the sight of the childish design. She rushed to pull up her jeggings to quickly cover the sight of the little fairy before rushing out to meet Kyle in the kitchen. Exiting the hall which opened to the kitchen and dining area, Annabelle saw Kyle standing over the stove. As she got closer the gentle fragrance of pancakes and bananas began to overpower her senses causing her mouth to water. Kyle sensed the arrival and flipped the current pancake before turning around. "Nice shower? That hoodie certainly suits you." Kyle complimented, noticing his hoodie being worn, oversized like a toddler. Annabelle spun around, modelling his hoodie, the base of the hoodie raised up with the speed of her spin enough for Kyle to see up to her waist. Enough for Kyle to notice a bulge around Annabelle’s crotch that reminded him of his young cousin's sleepovers with him and the pull-ups he kept upstairs for her. Kyle couldn't hold back a broad grin. "Very pretty. You look so good that you can keep it." He said. As Annabelle plopped onto a bench stool, Kyle finished the last couple of pancakes, thinking of how to play this situation. The girl he likes, wearing his young cousin’s pull-ups after her own bedtime accident. Kyle had been curious about caregiver-based dynamics and had for a while been researching and talking to many littles, caregivers and middles about their experiences. He thought that this could be an opportunity to explore a dynamic, but his mind started to swarm with doubts. "Would she leave? Would she think that I a freak? What if I do something wrong?" Kyle and Annabelle both ate their meals in silence, except for a few remarks about the food and the day ahead. Their minds both racing about the night’s events and their morning surprise. Upon finishing, Kyle took a leap and spoke up. "I hope you're not going to disappear after this morning." Slightly shocked, Annabelle almost jumped at him, even though it had briefly crossed her mind to disappear in shame. "What?! Why would I do that? I'm not that low." She exaggerated, with a hurt tone. "Sorry, sorry. So, you won’t object to coming around tomorrow night for some drinks and maybe another club." Kyle suggested, hopeful of another chance. "Sure..." Annabelle started, "...but I'll try not to repeat this morning’s events." She said apologetically, trying to inject some humour into her awkward situation. "If you’re that dedicated to preventing it, I might just pick up some more of my cousin's pull-ups, like the one you’re wearing. Just in case." Kyle offered, he couldn't hold it in and instantly saw her whole face turn a shade of deep red. ***