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“Come on, it landed over here!” I called, cresting the ridge on the side of the bike trail. “Jeez, Charlie, slow down!” Billie called up after me, panting for breath. I shook my head. “And let someone else beat us to the punch?” She could catch up. I wanted to find the meteorite. We’d been out for a hike when it soared across the sky, unmistakeable. A ball of fire with a black, smoky trail plummeting from the sky and into the woods ahead of us. I’d grinned and told Billie, ‘Last one there stinks like a rotten egg!’ before taking off, wanting to beat the other hikers to the treasure. I could see clearly the broken branches that the plummeting meteorite had left. Triangulating the position with a guess, I slid down the steep hill, digging in the heels of my hiking boots to stay upright. My miniskirt caught the edge of a bush and flipped up indecently, but that’s why I wore a pair of athletic pants underneath. What I hadn’t planned on was that a pile of leaves and brush were disguising a pitfall at the bottom of the slope. Instead of sliding to a gentle stop, I lost my footing without warning, fell, snagged my pants on a thorny branch, and twisted my ankle. (Goddammit), I groaned to myself, extricating my limbs from the pile of leaves that’d disguised the gap in the ground. Then I stood up, and–Riiiiip. “Goddammit!” I repeated out loud, feeling sudden cold air on my right thigh as a big section of my pants ripped open. My ankle hurt to stand on, but I limped out of the hole and sat. Prodding at the injury distracted me so much, I didn’t even notice the charred black crash site a few feet away until it gave a little crackling pop. I blinked, looked over. The meteorite was within arm’s reach, black and sooty from its entry into the atmosphere, clods of dirt clinging to its shell. I reached over to wipe away some of the dirt and pick it up, not thinking about how it’d likely be burning hot. When I touched it, though, it felt cool. Icy, almost. I puzzled at that, picking up the rock. It was about the size of a basketball, and other than the dirt chunks stuck to it, perfectly round. Another pop sounded, and the shell suddenly split in my hands, cracking sharply in half. I could have sworn something black and viscous spilled out right onto my lap, but when I looked down, nothing was there. (An illusion,) I guessed. (Or maybe some kind of gas? Should I be worried?) “Chars!” Billie called, coming around the side of the hill, winded. “Jeez, girl, you scared me!” “I’m fine,” I said, standing up. My ankle didn’t really hurt anymore, and my skirt helpfully concealed the hole in my pants. “Come check this out–the meteorite was hollow!” I didn’t think anything else of the strange optical illusion, more fascinated by the meteorite itself. In retrospect, I should have been worried. … We rode our bikes back to town, the meteorite halves in my backpack. This’d been a weekly activity for me and Billie when we were in highschool; traveling out and exploring the surrounding world for hours on end. Now that we were both well into college we still reenacted the ritual, but only when we came home on holidays. I knew I’d get an earful from mom once I got home about not having my phone on me, but I couldn’t be bothered. I was on break, nobody but me got to have my constant attention, and I was an adult–I didn’t need anyone nannying me to ensure I was safe. We got back to Billie’s place. Technically it belonged to her parents, but both were out of town for a couple days, so it was all hers until the weekend. “Jeez, Chars,” Billie panted as we stopped in the driveway, taking out her fob for the garage door. “Aren’t you out of breath? You’re not even sweating!” She was right–I felt great. The whole ride home, it’d been as though I’d had a helping hand pushing me along. (You did.) “What did you say?” I asked. Billie blinked at me. “Huh? I didn’t say anything.” “Oh, you–never mind.” We walked our bikes into the garage and she shut it behind us. “Movie?” “Yeah!” “You go pick something out, I’ll be right back,” I said, not explaining explicitly that I needed the bathroom. It didn’t need to be spelled out, after all. She nodded, and I slipped inside and to the right, towards the master bathroom. I knew Billie’s house nearly as well as my own home, she didn’t need to tell me where anything was. I locked the bathroom door behind me and reached to slide down my pants, finally taking a moment to inspect the tear in– They wouldn’t slide down. I frowned and sat down on the toilet seat, lifting up my skirt. The pants looked normal enough, but when I reached to undo the button, it wouldn’t budge, and despite the waistband having a little give, I couldn’t for the life of me pull them down from around my waist. Frowning and looking closer, I saw the tiniest hint of black residue around the button, and– (Hello.) “What the f**k?” I blurted. (Thanks for the ride. I was worried I’d be stuck with a host that had no real will of its own.) (Okay what’s going on, I didn’t think that.) (No, you didn’t. I did.) I stood and hurried to the mirror, inspecting my reflection. I looked normal enough, but I had apparently gone crazy, hearing voices in my head that definitely weren’t coming from me. (Oh, you’re going to be fun,) the voice in my head purred. (I’ve been exploring your head for the right buttons to press, and I think I’ve located one.) Involuntarily, memories flashed through my head, childhood sleepovers where I’d had to flee in embarrassment after wetting Billie’s bed, occasional accidents at school due to sheer bad luck, the most humiliating memories of my childhood and teens. “I don’t understand,” I gasped. “Why–who–what are you?” In answer, I felt something trickling up from around my waist, something not quite liquid and not quite solid, an inky black entity that slithered up my neck and showed itself in the mirror. (Your hormones are delicious, and this’s only been an appetizer.) I shook my head as the inky whatever-it-was disappeared down my shirt, though I felt it teasing over my nipples before it vanished from my senses. I’d lost it. I’d begun hallucinating. I’d– (Oh, I’m very much real, and I promise I’m not going anywhere. Tell me, will you wet yourself now, or will you leave and invent some excuse to try to hide it from your friend?) “Wh-what?” I stammered, outloud. My cheeks flushed pink at the thought of wetting my pants. (That rush–I’ve certainly found the right buttons. I don’t think I’ll let you use the toilet again for a long, long time, at least not while you’ve got such feelings associated with it.) I swallowed. It was insane, but I trusted the voice like I’d trust a bear trap–I had no confidence, except that it wanted to hurt me. “Would…” I started. “Would you–” (You don’t have to speak out loud for me to understand you, you know.) “Okay, but this is less confusing,” I replied in a whisper. “Would you accept a compromise?” (Why would I accept a compromise on your humiliation, when I can force it from you at will?) “Because…” I started to say, but I couldn’t say it out loud. My idea had no merit, I’d just give the thing, the whatever-it-was, more ammunition. But, unfortunately, I’d thought the idea, so now it knew. (Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much.) “No,” I said. “I changed my mind–” (I’ll keep these pants sealed to your body until you go get those. My patience will outlast yours, I’m not going anywhere and you cannot stop me.) I rubbed my face with both hands, squeamish at the thought, but…I didn’t have an option. I’d need to go buy some diapers. Splashing a little water on my face, I braced myself. My hands were shaking, and my cheeks were flush with– (No, it’s not excitement,) I told myself. (Yes, it is.) I dried my hands and left the bathroom, hoping to sneak past Billie without an explanation. No luck, she heard me and called down the hallway. “Hey, how about that new Venom movie?” “Eh, I heard it stinks,” I deflected. “Hey, something can stink and still be fun,” Billie argued. “Who were you talking to, by the way?” “Um…” I didn’t have a good answer. “Long story. I have to go, uh, run an errand.” “Are you okay, Chars?” She asked. “You look worried.” “Just gotta go,” I said. “I’ll explain it later.” (Will you, now? That’ll be interesting.) “Ooookay.” Billie was dubious, but didn’t press. I left on my bike, pedaling to get to the pharmacy on the edge of town. I could feel the symbiote on my body, now, enhancing me in little ways, putting energy in my pedaling. (I don’t want you to get tired yet,) it assured me. “Thanks?” I whispered back. More concerningly, I could feel it exploring my body. Phantom sensations tingled up my nerves as it slipped around, between my legs, around my breasts, over every inch of my skin, learning me better than any boyfriend or girlfriend I’d ever had. I parked my bike, locked it up, and walked into the pharmacy. It was your standard little store, a dozen shelves and cheap fluorescent lights that had never been replaced since they were installed in the seventies. “Hey, Chars!” (Oh, no.) (Oh, yes!) I knew the guy working behind the register. His name was Jim. We’d gone steady in highschool. The flame had died out about junior year, but we’d stayed friends, and…well, it was a small town. I guess he’d stayed and gotten a job. “Uh, hi,” I said. “Can I help you find anything?” he asked. “Um…” I said. “My…grandma…needs to get some diapers. Thirty six inch waist?” It was conspicuously my measurements, but I didn’t know how else to ask. He smirked, but didn’t press the obvious lie. Maybe he’d even bought it. (I can smell endorphins on him. His body is laughing at you.) My blush only deepened. “The sizes aren’t that precise,” Jim said, “But if the stuff on the shelf isn’t what you need, I’ve got a few options in the back. I’ll be right back.” I felt even stupider for not just grabbing a pack off the shelf and buying it without explanation, but I’d already dug this hole for myself. While I stood awkwardly by the counter, waiting for him to return, I felt the symbiote move, slipping beneath my panties. “No,” I whispered, but it wasn’t like I could stop it. The symbiote slipped inside my sex, formed into something almost solid, lapping at me with a degree of personalized passion that no sexual partner had ever matched. It knew me, it knew my body, my memories, the way I reacted to its touch, and it used that to make my knees almost buckle in seconds. I pressed my hands to the counter, hiding that I had suddenly begun to sweat, hiding that I was being fucked within an inch of my life while Jim returned, holding a pack of diapers labeled ‘Southcoast Supreme’. They looked unreasonably thick, but I didn’t really know what adult diapers looked like. “These should fit you–” he started to say, correcting quickly with, “–ur grandma. Are you alright? You seem flush.” “Just…” I said, a squeak escaping my lips. (Oh f**k,) I thought. I could barely speak, and my poker face had to be absolutely terrible. “Can I pay?” “Uh…yeah.” Jim scanned the package of diapers and rang me up. I had to fish through my backpack for my purse while the symbiote rode me hard beneath my panties, holding me tortuously on the edge of orgasm. I stuck my card in the chip reader, hurriedly snatched the package of diapers, and fled to the bathroom without another word. Only once I made it to privacy did the symbiote give me any relief–it didn’t let me orgasm, but it at least let up, no longer forcing me to the edge so frustratingly that I wanted to cry. I locked the bathroom door. “F-f**k…” I mumbled. (See? You can enjoy our relationship, sometimes.) I shook my head. “Okay, just…give me a name. What can I call you?” (Why do you want that?) “Because this’ll all seem less fucked up if I have something to call you,” I said. “Less like a weird dream. I don’t know. Humor me?” (Be a good girl and put on your diaper, and I’ll give you a name.) I obeyed meekly, shucking out of my pants. I was excited, and it felt wrong to be excited. As I slipped down my panties, the extreme wetness of the cotton stood out–in just a minute of incomplete teasing I’d ruined them. I eyed the toilet. Now that I had my pants around my ankles, I could potentially get away with using it before– The inky symbiote launched itself up my body and two tendrils shot towards the wall. It yanked me away from the toilet, forced my body down onto the sink countertop and held me there, unable to wriggle free. (Think of defying me again, and I’ll do more than make you comply,) it warned. I squirmed, but my body was stuck firmly down to the countertop. “I…” I started. “I need to get my diaper.” That meek response bought me a little wiggle room, and it let me go. I was able to stand, kick my pants the rest of the way off, rip open the package of diapers and retrieve one. I unfolded the thick, rustling plastic with tentative hands, feeling the soft plush padding on the inside. (Am I really doing this?) I thought. For once, my symbiote didn’t reply. Uncertainly, I folded the diaper between my legs in a standing position, reaching for the tape, but I needn’t have bothered. The void substance bubbled up around the outside of the diaper, smoothing it down and wrapping it around me, sticking down the tapes securely. It fit perfectly, thanks in no small part to the many small microcorrections that the symbiote had made to its snugness and tape placement. I bent to pick up my jeans, but the void wrapped around my wrist, pulling it back. (Your skirt only,) it warned. (No pants.) My skirt wasn’t long enough for decency, which is why I wore it with the pants to begin with. Checking in the mirror, I saw clearly that the bottom of my diaper peeked out, visible to anyone who might try and check out my ass. That was unfortunate, since I had a nice ass. “Now what?” I asked. “I did what you asked.” (You can call me Haven.) I swallowed. Haven. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, except– Haven slithered beneath my diaper, suddenly probing inside me once again, though not in the same way as before. It pushed against my back door, slickly sliding inside like an enormous plug, filling me up heavily. I bit my lip and suppressed a moan, sinking my weight against the wall. I hadn’t expected the sudden resurgence of sexual intensity. Nor did I expect the sudden warm mass I felt, piling up in the seat of my diaper. I hadn’t felt any need, any push, only surprise and confusion as a mess spilled out of me. I tried to squeeze and fight the tide, but Haven held me open, utterly helpless to keep from ruining my diaper. And it wasn’t done. As I sank to my knees, a piece of Haven shot up my shirt, my neck, my chin, sliding towards my mouth. While one end of it fucked me from behind, thrusting into my ass and forcing me to fill my diaper all at once, the other end probed my mouth, pushing between my lips and sliding its tentacle-like form deep into my throat. I bottomed out completely. Sliding to the floor, my weight landed on the ever-swelling mush in my diaper. Hormones and instinct controlling me, I sucked on the probing thing in my mouth, totally overwhelmed by Haven’s hopeless domination. I could smell my diaper, the mucky odor filling my nostrils, but the deep humiliation only drove me down harder into a totally submissive headspace. Once Haven went after me completely, it didn’t take long. It took only a moment as I felt a third slick, rigid tentacle slip inside me, my every hole filled by the symbiote that had come to own me, and I shuddered and moaned and squirted into my diaper, washing away the wetness indicators with a body-shattering orgasm. I lay in a heap for a moment, and in a small act of mercy, Haven let me recover and catch my breath. (I will do this to you,) Haven reminded. (Whenever I want to, and you cannot stop me.) In the moment of post orgasmic bliss, I was alright with that. Slowly, though, the needs of reality started to creep back in, and the state of my diaper came to the front of my mind–in just a minute of devastating passion I’d utterly ruined it. “Um…” I said. “Can I take this off, please?” (No.) I could almost hear Haven’s wicked laugh. (You promised your friend that you’d tell her why you had to leave, and I’ve decided I’m going to enforce that promise. I’ll be holding this diaper on you for as long as it takes, until you confront her face to face and explain what you just experienced, and how deeply you enjoyed it.) I swallowed. “And then?” I asked, meekly hoping for a generous answer. (And then I think I’ll want to play with you again.) ... 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I was replying to someone else about training your bladder muscle to stay relaxed and I remembered I used to have meditation sessions where I used guided imagery to imagine my sphincter muscle weakening and giving up. Here’s some visuals that I created for myself over the years: 1. I have some sort of medical condition where my bladder control progressively and irreversibly weakens. 2. I had some sort of cutting edge non invasive surgery where a stent was placed in the sphincter muscle preventing it from clenching. 3. Using my massage wand on my bladder and pelvic area and imagining that it was a magical device that makes the bladder not function correctly. 4. I have an unusual medical condition where clenching the bladder releases a neurotoxin that slowly kills the sphincter muscle. The more I clench the worse it functions. This one was particularly effective for me! 5. My entire bladder including the muscles and all the nerves and their connections to the brain was somehow swapped out with an artificial more primitive bladder system that does works like a baby’s bladder. Sometimes I imagine this is either a consequence of, or treatment for #4 above. 6. I am toddler who doesn’t understand that people can stop them selves from peeing when they feel the sensation to go. I don’t get understand what the sphincter muscle is used for. I can’t be the only one who did this, right?

Rosie stood nervously in front of a strange door in a strange hallway. There was nothing outwardly strange about them. It could have been any other apartment door in any other hallway, but the reason she was here was certainly strange.She had taken it up on a whim. A single offer, coming to her from someone she had spoken too online but had never met in person. After years visiting a... strange... community online, speaking to people without seeing them, even making art for it, she had been offered a chance to actually try living it. The person's name was Samantha, and they certainly had a lot of similar interests, but it was still frightening. She didn't really know this person, did she? How well can you know someone you've never seen before? Do online meetings and relationships count the same as in person?On top of that, she was here to play the sub. It was a role she she was always interested it but didn't even discuss as much. Almost every discussion she had and every drawing she made had her playing dom. She knew this would be difficult, having to let someone take control of her for a change. Not only that, but the plan was meant to be a surprise. She had no idea what was in store for her, it was all Samantha's decision. That was all part of it, and they had similar interests, but it was still frightening. She closed her eye and psyched herself. She could do this. Just turn off the dominant side, and let someone else take control. At least if it turned bad she could always ask for it to start.Holding her breath, she knocked. The door was almost immediately answered by a tall, athletically built blond haired woman. Rosie, herself almost 6 feet tall, wasn't used to having to look up at another woman. Rosie stared at the woman's arms, hoping whatever the plan was didn't involve a lot of spanking. This was definitely a woman who could make that hurt, and definitely one who would have no problem dominating over someone."Rosie?" the woman asked, and Rosie nodded. The woman dragged her in by the arm, closed the door and locked it. She looked Rosie over, examining her wavy brown hair and shorter, broad hipped build. She smiled and tapped her nose. "Hehe your just as cute as I expected," she smacked Rosie on the butt, making her yelp. "Perfect for what I have planned."Rosie blushed over the treatment. It was... sudden, she thought. She tried to back up a bit, then mentally checked herself. She was here to play sub, she told herself. This was the sort of treatment she could expect. "Ummm... thanks. Are you Samantha?""Yes, that's right dear. Good girl!" Samantha patted her head."Uhhh... thanks. So what are we going to do? Are we going to just start, or talk a bit first?" Rosie was trying still play the role of submissive while making sure the boundaries were kept."Oh, don't worry, you'll see soon enough." Samantha began dragging her further into the apartment. Rosie's instinct was to pull away, but she let herself be lead. They passed a well stocked kitchen, a cozy living room with several couches and a television, and went down a white walled hallway into a bedroom. The bedroom was large and spacious, with a queen sized bed, bookshelves, and paintings on all walls. Once they were there, Samantha turned Rosie to face her and examined her again. She looked at Rosie's black jeans and button up shirt. "Hmmm... we will have to do something about those clothes. Far to mature, and the want-to-be rebellious look isn't good for you." Rosie gaped at her and couldn't respond. Instead, she was pushed onto the bed. "Now, wait here a moment little one. I need to get some things ready.""Alright," Rosie said. Samantha's tone gave no room for argument, and the anticipation of what could come, along with her clear control was exciting, she was sat nervously, a pit forming in her stomach. What did Samantha have planned? Samantha left and closed the door.After a moment she haired footsteps in the hallway. Wait, she thought, how many are there? Suddenly her nervousness turned to pure anxiety, even fear. How many people where there? She didn't know there was more then one, she hadn't agreed to that. She opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted as the door burst open, and Samantha stood in followed by two other girls, each holding articles of clothing.Rosie didn't have time to fully process what was happening before they had grabbed her. "Hey... what are.... no!" She said as her shirt was forcibly removed. She had agreed to be submissive, but this sudden invasion of her privacy was still shocking. She struggled, but was held tight, and felt her arms being pulled into a pair of sleeves. She barely had a chance to comprehend what was happening before she realized she was being tied into a strait jacket. Her arms were pulled behind her and secured."Hey, I said.. MPHH...!" she was silenced as something was shoved into her mouth. She gagged at the bitter taste, and realized it was a bar of soap. Samantha was moving it back and forth as the other girls strapped her arms behind her back. Her mouth filled with creamy white foam as she shoved the bar into her mouth again and again."There, that will wash out any more naughty words," Samantha said. She then took the bar out. Rosie gasped, and the foam dribbled down her face. She tried to speak, but found her mouth was filled again. This time it was a pacifier that was tied into place behind her head. It filled her mouth completely to her throat, forcing her to swallow the rest of the soap, and turning her protests into incomprehensible mumbles. "What was that?" Samantha said. "Something you don't like? Well just tell me, and I'll be sure to stop," she laughed, and Rosie glared.Now that she was tied and silenced, the Samantha's two friends lifted Rosie's feet into the air, forcing her to her back on the couch. Rosie tried to kick and pull herself away. "MPHHH!" she shouted at a sudden, sharp pain on her backside. She looked to see Samantha standing over her with a long black paddle. She wondered what she had gotten herself into. Playing sub had seemed so exciting in theory. Even now, part of her was eager to keep going. But this much pain and control was so foreign and coming on so quickly. She was overwhelmed with emotions, and struggled not even knowing if she wanted to leave or stay.She was spanked again. "Now now, that's enough of that," Samantha said. It was pointless anyway, Rosie found the two girl's grasp was unbreakable, and Samantha simply moved on.The next thing Samantha grabbed was the one thing Rosie had expected from the start, but now stared at nervously. It was what she wanted for months, but by far the most embarrassing part yet.Seeing the frightened, humiliated but excited look in Rosie's eyes, Samantha smiled. "Yes, I'm sure this is what my baby wants, isn't it? She's just been lying to us, to everyone, with her naughty big girl clothes, posing as an adult, posing as a professional, pretending to be mature... we all know it is a lie, don't we?" Rosie stared, and Samantha smiled and lifted the object into the air. It was a large, thick diaper. It was white but with a pink, flowery panel on the front, with letters proclaiming the wearer "Princess," and a design that let everyone know that the wearer wasn't a real adult, but simply an overgrown, adult baby. It didn't look like an adult diaper, but a baby's Pampers made in a larger size. More then that, it was a sign that her last shred of adulthood was gone, that even the most basic levels of control and maturity were forcibly stripped from her. It meant she couldn't even be trusted to use the toilet, and if that was true, what could she be trusted with?Rosie cringed, helpless as Samantha powdered her and placed the thick pamper underneath her. She felt the thick padding go up between her legs and close on her, then get tapped securely on. Samantha then pulled the strap of the strait jacked underneath the diaper and attached it on either side, leaving her locked inside her humiliating, childish garment. The other two girls put pink baby booties on her feet, then stood her up. She was made to face herself in a mirror, and sulked. Even the straight jacket seemed to have been made on the similar theme, with a pink and white design consisting of flowers, babyish drawings and "Princess" written on her chest, along with a skirt of fabric around her waist that made it look like a tutu while leaving her diaper fully exposed. She thought of her own image of herself- serene, powerful, in control- and tried to compare it to the baby she saw staring at her in the mirror. This is what she wanted, she reminded herself, though part of her wondered why. She closed her eyes and told herself to just listen to what Samantha wanted, as she had agreed to.Samantha came up to her smiling, and seemed to smile even broader when she saw the defeated look on Rosie's face. She attached a collar to her neck, then a leash, and brandished the paddle in her other hand."Now, come along my little princess, and be a good girl. Its time to meet some more friends."Friends?! Rosie thought. There were MORE people!? She tried to pull away, but was forced forward by the leash, and the pacifier turned any argument into mumbles."Whats that? Remember, if you don't like something, just tell me!" Samantha said, then laughed.Rosie simply followed. The abnormal bulk of her diaper felt odd between her legs, and made her waddle. Rosie had tried the thickest adult diapers she could find, but this was still a surprise. The only thing she could think of was Snuggies waddles made with a custom design, but that still didn't seem to cut it. Perhaps Waddlers with a thickening pad, she thought. Whatever it was, it was clearly designed to be intrusive, and it worked. The strap of the straight jacket added to the feeling, making it feel thicker and stiffer and pressing it against her. The diaper crinkled loudly, and was hot and heavy, but at the same time soft and, in a way, comfortable.Rosie was pulled into the living room, which was now full of people. They all cheered and laughed at once as she entered, blushing. Some were people she had seen before, acquaintances from work or people she had run into, but most were strangers. There even seemed to be other fetishists there- a woman in a black leather full body suit held on a leash by a man in a suit, a blond haired boy who sat whimpering on a woman's lap while wearing a diaper and dress and suckling a pacifier, a girl in a bunny outfit with ears, and others. The attention, however, was all directed at Rosie."Awwww she's so cute!" a stranger proclaimed."Yes, I agree. She was an excellent choice.""Just look at her blush! She is sooo embarrassed haha. I wonder if she's wet already?""Oooo imagine her look during her first diaper change."Samantha quieted them with a have of her hands. "Now now, we will get to that. First, we need to prepare our baby. Now, Rosie, you may be wondering what this is." Rosie nodded, humiliated and terrified. "Most of them are my friends. We've been looking for someone just like you to be our new baby girl. We already have a baby boy and others, so we needed you for a new playmate. We meet from time to time for... fun." She smiled at the word, leaving it open to whatever Rosie could think of. "The others are people you knew who were open to the idea. We like to have a few people our subs recognize on the first night. It adds to the... fun... and ensures people will know about your new lifestyle."She continued. "Tonight, Rosie, is all about you. This is your initiation, then you'll be part of our group. Remember, if you don't like it, just say so," she laughed.With that, Samantha grabbed the leash right by her collar and gently pulled her down. Rosie shook her head violently, making as much noise as the pacifier would allow. This was too far, she thought. She'd agreed to play sub, and would have, but did not agree to have other people. She wanted out.Samantha, however, ignored her pleas. She made Rosie crawl, much to the delight of the audience, and sat her on a plank in front of the wall facing outward. "This here is something that is going to help you be a good baby. In a little while, all your naughty arguing will end," she said. She threaded leash through a hoop on the blank Rosie was sitting on. Next, she felt it pulled down underneath her and between her legs, then upwards. It was attached to the wall above her, forcing her into a kneeling, head down position from which she couldn't move.Rosie glanced around, struggling even to keep her head up, and tried to figure out what was going on. The people were smiling at her, though some of the obvious subs stared at her nervously and with pity.Soon Samantha was in front of her, holding a pair of headphones. "Now now little one, don't worry at all," she said soothingly. "Mommy will take care of everything. Just listen to this, and everything will soon be better." With that, she placed the headphones on Rosie's head, and hit a button.

Am a baby girl.... originated as submissive. Have dabbled in the abdl a bit. Intrigued me.... like to combine the 2 Any strict twisted mommy's daddy's or both who'd like to take complete control of me? I must do to myself as ordered . As if ur hands are guiding mine to use me. Punish me. Humiliate degrade me.  Forcing me to be in diapers. Crawling. Eating living as an infant 

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

One of the things that make me feel really little, is wetting and messing my diapers uncontrollably. My Daddy decided that I spent way too long pushing into my diapers, and wanted to help me give up the control easier... I was a bit scared at first when he took out a big banana and a bag of marshmallows and realized this was no late night snack:) The banana came from the fridge and felt really cold as it slid inside. Already I felt full up there, but Daddy managed to push 4 marshmallows in as well. I whimpered a little as he pushed the last one in and put on a double diaper and my cute disney plastic pants. I did not have to wait long, and tried to hold back as long as I could, but had to succumb to the pressure forcing itself out. I had absolutely no way of stopping and it felt quite naughty and nice! Anyone else tried this? What´s your experiences on this, baby girls and Daddies?

The Babysitter is the Baby The phone was ringing. Brenna had just woken up and was dressed in only her bra and panties. Her 18th birthday was yesterday and she was completely exhausted. She picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Hi Brenna," it was Mrs. Brown, "I was wondering if you could come babysit my four-year-old girl, Katy, for a couple of days. Me and my husband are going on vacation and we need someone to watch Katy. I know two days is a lot to ask, but its summertime and we thought you could manage." Brenna sighed. It wasn't that she didn't like babysitting, but she felt that she should be having fun with her friends, not watching a little girl that still wet herself. Oh well, she guessed it wouldn't hurt to do one more. "Sure, I'll do it. When do you want me to come over?" "Around three this afternoon should be fine. See you then!" Brenna arrived at exactly three o' clock and said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Brown. "One last thing Brenna," Mrs. Brown yelled, "Our washing and drying machines are both broken. We'll get new ones on Monday." "That's fine Mrs. Brown," Brenna yelled back, "I brought a couple changes of clothes." Then Brenna closed the door. A small head peeped out from around the corner. "Hi Katy." "Hi Mrs. Brenna. Would you like to have a tea party?" "Ha. No, I'm far too old to have a tea party." Brenna then sat down on the sofa and turned on the TV. Katy set up her dolls and baby cups next to the TV and began having her "party". "Please can you have a tea party with me Mrs. Brenna?" Katy asked. "No. Stop asking or you will ruin both my evening and yours." Brenna replied. A couple minutes later Katy asked again. "Please?" "That's it Katy! I'm going to put you back in diapers for behaving like such a baby! Don't you understand what no means? I'll be right back!" Brenna then left and got some diapers out from her purse (she always brought extras for the kids whose parents never bought enough) and diapered poor Katy. That night Brenna was exhausted and went to sleep. That night while Brenna was sleeping a plan was hatched in Katy's mind. Katy was smart for a four-year-old and knew quite a lot about using her parents money to buy things she wanted online. She always had babysitters and very few were nice, so she went out and bought some special formulas made exactly for the purpose of punishing her sitter… Brenna woke up and felt an odd feeling around her crotch. She looked down and saw that her panties had been absolutely soaked with pee. She got up and ran to the bathroom to change. How could she have peed herself? She was 18! 18-year-olds don't pee themselves! She hurriedly washed her panties and put on one of her other two. She then decided to make breakfast for herself and watch more TV. "Hi Mrs. Brenna. Can I have breakfast?" Katy asked. "Go get it yourself brat. Don't you know how to make cereal or something?" Brenna replied. Brenna was sitting down when she felt pressure on her bladder. She decided she needed to use the bathroom again. Brenna got up and started walking to the bathroom when Katy told her she needed to go to the bathroom. "Can't you wait?" "No Mrs. Brenna, I really have to go!" Katy said, desperate. "No, just use your diaper or something. I have to go right now." But Katy had delayed just long enough. At that moment a warm stream of pee went down Brenna's thigh and a visible wet spot appeared through her skinny jeans. Brenna's cheeks blushed bright red and Katy just stood there with a look of awe on her face. "Mrs. Brenna, what happened? Maybe I should diaper you!" Katy said. "Shut up you brat, I…I…just drank a little too much or something." Brenna said. Then Brenna ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. "This can't be happening to me," She said, "I haven't wet myself in fourteen years!" Brenna reached for her last pair of dry panties. She knew that if she wet those then she wouldn't have any dry underwear for the next two days, and she knew she wasn't wearing wet panties. Brenna came out from the bathroom to find Katy out of her diaper and wearing her pull-up. "You changed yourself?" Brenna asked, surprised. "Yep! I know how to change diapers!" Katy replied. Later that day, after lunch Brenna was wondering what to do. Brenna decided to give Jeremy, a cute guy she liked, a call to come over and maybe spend some time with her. "Hi Jeremy, it's Brenna." "Hi Brenna! What's up?" "Well I'm babysitting and was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out?" "Sure! I'll be right over." Brenna muttered a soft "Yes!" under her breath. She was watching her favorite show and got herself ready for when Jeremy came over. She lay down on the couch. Katy walked into the room with her teddy bear. "Mrs. Brenna, I smell something funny." "So what. Why should I care?" "I think you might have wet yourself without noticing." Brenna looked down at her pants and sure enough they were soaked. Brenna was flabbergasted. She now had no clean panties and Jeremy was about to come over. "Would you like a diaper Mrs. Brenna?" Katy asked, smiling. Brenna was speechless and just thinking to herself how she had just wet herself like a baby for the second time in the last couple hours. Katy then came in with a diaper, mat, and baby powder and pulled Brenna off the sofa and onto the mat. Then she pulled Brenna's clothes off and threw them into a pile with all of Brenna's wet panties. Katy then wiped Brenna down and powdered her. Brenna was shocked and didn't know what to do. Brenna soon found her thumb in her mouth and and a locked diaper around her waist. Brenna was completely naked except for her diaper. Brenna sucked her thumb viciously. Katy then dragged Brenna, who was now nothing more than an oversized baby girl, over to an adult crib Katy had made just for babysitters and pushed her inside. "Click" The crib locked shut. Then the doorbell rang. Katy left the bedroom and answered the door. "Hi cutie, is Brenna there?" asked Jeremy. "No, sorry. Brenna just left." Katy replied. "I'm only a few minutes late." the disappointed Jeremy said. "Oh well!" Katy replied and shut the door. Meanwhile Brenna was lying in her crib sucking her thumb and staring at the wall. Katy walked in. "Awwww. Is the big baby Brenna trapped in the crib? Who is the baby now huh?" Katy said, sneering. Brenna then came to her senses and sat up and tried to push the crib gate open, her supple breasts jiggling as she moved. "Let me out you brat! I'm not the baby here, you are!" Brenna screamed. "No, I'm not the one half-naked and in a diaper here am I?" Katy replied. "Let me out! Please! I didn't mean to be mean to you!" Brenna pleaded. "No. Stop asking or you will ruin both my evening and yours." Katy said, mockingly and left the room. Brenna continued shaking the cage but eventually gave up and lay down. By the time dinnertime rolled around Brenna's diaper was drenched. "Did you wet yourself again Brenna?" Katy asked. "No!" Brenna said as she looked down. "Well, maybe." "Let's check!" Katy replied. Before Brenna could do anything, Katy reached down and pulled Brenna's diaper out and looked inside. Feeling violated Brenna quickly tried to pull away, but Katy had a firm grip and wouldn't let Brenna move around enough to wrench free. Katy looked down at Brenna's naked crotch and Brenna blushed. Katy let go after getting a good look. "Looks like the big baby really drenched herself!" Katy exclaimed. Katy then opened the crib gate and forcefully took Brenna to the bathroom. Katy then laid Brenna down and unlocked and removed the sopping yellow diaper. "Eww!" Katy exclaimed and pinched her nose. "Peeing yourself is gross Baby Brenna! You need to not be a baby before you become a babysitter!" Brenna was so embarrassed that she began sucking her thumb again. Brenna felt the powder around her pussy and then felt the dry diaper pulled up and locked around her waist. Brenna was then taken to the dinner table and put in an adult high chair. "This baby food is for you Baby Brenna. It is full of fiber which is good for you!" Katy explained. Brenna was then spoon fed the disgusting pulp, far to weak in her efforts to escape the crib to complain. Brenna felt like she couldn't control her own body. She could barely lift her arm without it flying in a random direction, let alone use the potty. She was as helpless as the baby she was being treated as. After being fed she felt a rumble in her tummy and began to feel very tired. Brenna was then dragged back to the crib and laid inside. She quickly fell asleep. The next morning Brenna awoke to a terrible smell. She looked at her diaper and then realized that not only had she peed herself while she was sleeping, but she had also pooped herself. The warm mass was squashed around her bum and her crotch was soaked with pee. How could she have pooped herself without noticing like a newborn? How could this happen to her? Just the other day she was partying with her friends and drinking, and now she pees and poops herself without the slightest inclination she has. Brenna laid back down and began sucking her thumb. She was dressed in only her diaper and was laying on top of the quilt. Her slim, tan, and very much adult body greatly contrasted the bulky, filled, and colorful diaper. Katy walked in and, upon seeing Brenna's utterly destroyed diaper, let out a small giggle. "It's so cute to see you as the big baby you are!" Katy exclaimed. "Do you need a diaper change Baby?" There was nothing Brenna could say (she had to admit she wanted to be changed) so she crawled into the bathroom half-naked. "No no no silly Baby," Katy said "It's time for the morning walk! We can change you later." Brenna was then dressed in a bonnet and given a pacifier as well as an oversized baby shirt. Then she was put into a stroller and wheeled outside. Brenna's ex-boyfriend's house was across the street. So Katy made sure to wheel the stroller by. Brenna's old boyfriend, Marc, happened to be mowing the lawn when he saw Brenna in her baby clothes and visibly dirty diaper (as if the smell didn't give it away). "What have we hear?" Marc said, "Not such a bitch when you're put in your place huh Brenna?" Brenna looked at Marc pleadingly. "I'm certainly not helping you!" Marc said in response. "Can you come help me change her Marc?" Katy asked. "After what she did to me, I'd love to!" Marc replied. "OK! Come on over." Brenna was then wheeled away and through the neighborhood before being brought back inside. Brenna was stripped bare and then laid onto the mat and powdered. But before the diaper was pulled up underneath her, a small stream of pee bursted out. Katy gasped and giggled a little bit. Brenna looked down shamefully at the pee on the brand new diaper, her cheeks bright red. "You really can't control it can you? That's what newborns do!" Katy said, smiling. "Ha! You really are a baby Brenna! Good luck getting into college when you're peeing yourself like a baby. My two-year-old sister has more control then you!" The tapes were then firmly pulled and fixed on the diaper, but this one wasn't a lockable diaper, as Brenna couldn't control her hands very well anyways. Marc grabbed Brenna's hips and put her in her high chair the right way (Katy had to improvise). Marc then helped feed Brenna and then left, clearly happy with the whole situation. Brenna then was sat in front of the TV watching Teletubbies. "This is where you like to be right?" Katy said and then left the room. Brenna was sitting there on the sofa when she noticed that the front of her diaper was yellow again. Brenna looked at her reflection in the TV and remembered the days where she could use the potty and wasn't half-naked all the time. She wondered what Jeremy would think of her now. She didn't have to wonder for long though, because the doorbell rang that moment. Katy went and answered the door. It was Jeremy. "Hi Katy, is Brenna there?" Jeremy asked, a little worried. "I wanted to see her since I missed her yesterday." "Sure she's here." Katy answered, "Come on in." Jeremy then walked in and saw the almost naked Brenna sitting on the sofa in nothing but a diaper. He didn't know what to think, her beautiful breasts, her perfect belly, and then that terribly wet diaper was a lot to take in. "Is this what you do in your spare time Brenna?" Jeremy asked, curious (and a little turned on). "Because I don't think it's really appropriate for babysitting." Brenna blushed and, upon seeing Jeremy, took her thumb out of her mouth and tried mustering up the control to talk. A little bit of pee gushed into her diaper making it sag down and leak onto the sofa. "Hi Jewemy" Brenna said. At that exact moment Brenna tried to cover herself. Without much luck she fell off the sofa and onto all fours. She tried to stand but instead a warm mass slid into the back of her diaper and a brown discoloring of the yellow diaper began to appear. Brenna looked shocked as ever when reached down and felt the diaper, snug around her bum. She looked up at Jeremy and almost fainted from embarrassment. The cute guy she liked just saw her poop herself. What a moment. "Okay then I should probably go before this gets any weirder. I guess this probably wasn't the best time to come." Jeremy said and left in a rush. Brenna looked at Katy pleadingly. "Alright, I'll change you. Gosh, you don't have to be such a baby all the time. Messing yourself without noticing? I mean, come on. How old are you?" Katy said. That evening, while Brenna was sleeping in the crib, Katy's parents returned. Katy had cleaned up Brenna's mess and changed Brenna's diaper twice more since her "accident" in front of Jeremy. Mrs. Brown greeted Katy at the door. "Hi Katy! I'm so glad you're okay! Where's Brenna?" "Brenna is in her crib." Katy replied. "What?" Mrs. Brown said, a little surprised. "Another one?" Mrs. Brown walked into the bedroom to find Brenna on her back lying awake in nothing but a sodden diaper. There was a pacifier in her mouth and Brenna had a dazed look in her eyes as if she was daydreaming. Mrs. Brown then picked Brenna up out of the crib and took her back home. Brenna had been given small doses of a drug which weakens muscles all around the body, more specifically, the bladder area. The loss of control of most of her body was only temporary, but the loss of control in her bladder and bowels was permanent. To be continued...