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I'll play any age and any gender. Mommy, daddy, boy, girl, sissy. Also I'll play with any age or gender. As long as the scene is fun, I'm okay with it. I also have many ideas for scenes. So whatever you like, just let me know the roles or the scene, or both and we can probably play it. Cute or kinky, everything goes (depending on the mood).

Here is the first chapter of my brand new story - Elysium! Just a heads up... the first chapter is kinda heavy. But it's needed. There will also be content warnings throughout the story, but I'll make sure to flag them whenever possible. Now... Elysium... This is what happens when I put a lot of myself into a story. Infernum and Arbitrio were the first ones where I put a lot of myself into it... but this one feels a lot more personal than any of my other stories, so I really hope you like it. It's also a lot longer than my usual stories (Probably aiming somewhere around the same length as Little in Love or Love in Dimensions). It's different in a lot of ways, so I hope you enjoy all the differences to my usual stories. I know this genre is a little overdone in our circles... but this is a story I needed to write. You'll see why as it goes on. Enjoy! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Especially when it comes to new stories! Chapter 1: The Edge Elysium – LittleFallenPrincess ------------------------------- Tw: Depression, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide ------------------------------- Just one more step. Just the tiniest bit of momentum. That was all that was needed. Was I being selfish doing this? Maybe. But it’s not like people will care for more than a week at most. They’ll get over the initial shock and go back to living their normal lives. I was always just a background character to their stories anyway. Always was. Always will be. At least since I lost Mum anyway. They’ll be like ‘Oh, did you hear about Noah? He jumped off the bridge and died. Such a shame. Had so much life to live.’ The same useless shit people say whenever someone dies. Everyone says the same rubbish especially whenever someone kills themself. That ‘they wish they had seen the signs’, ‘wish they had done something’, ‘they were struggling’, ‘at least they’re not suffering anymore’… and it’s all bullshit. They don’t care. They just feel bad that they didn’t give enough of a fuck about someone who was struggling to do anything before it was too late. It takes the tiniest amount of effort to reach out to someone struggling like this, but none of them can be bothered. I bet they’ll say the same things about me. But I think I gave them enough signs. If they can’t read them… that’s their fault. I pretty much plastered them on the walls in bright red paint in all caps… but they were still oblivious to the message. Even if they did read them though… At this point, when I’ve reached rock bottom… what could actually help me at this point? Therapy? Ha… sure… I’ve tried like four different therapists and not one of them could help me. Meds? Doc won’t prescribe anything else because nothing seems to be working. Mental hospital? I’d rather di-... yeah… that’s why I’m here on this ledge… I stared out at the empty road below. Thankfully… no traffic this late at night. No one’s oncoming car to accidentally fall onto. Which is good, because I already feel pretty fucking guilty for ruining the day of whoever finds me… But hey, at that point I won’t have to worry, I won’t be around. Part of me worried that maybe this isn’t high enough. Because I had heard somewhere that people had survived large drops… and if I do take that final step, I want it to be exactly that… final. I don’t want to survive it. That will just lead to… complications. Locked away for a while ‘for my own safety’. The thought of that sends a wave of terror through my whole body. One of my biggest fears is being locked away, unable to escape. It’s why I’ve put this off for so long. I could’ve attempted something before… but I was worried of failing and what would happen if I did so. But now I’ve reached absolute rock bottom and I’m like 99% sure I’m done with this life now. So as my foot hovered over the large drop in front of me, my hands tightly gripping the railing behind me, balancing precariously on the edge of the bridge… I tried to mentally prepare myself. It wasn’t too late to back down though. No one would know… it’s the dead of night. There are no cars, no people… it’s a quiet little English town after all. And I picked this spot in particular so that no one could stop me, that there would be no-one around to stop me. But if I backed out… I could just go home, and no one would have any knowledge of what I planned to do. Which means no-one is doing anything drastic to keep me safe that would end up with me getting much worse. No… I’m ready. I’ve contemplated this for years. Even before I lost my Mum in my teens. Even before I told my Dad about all that stuff… before he kicked me out. I was always depressed. Always wanted to stop existing. It was never a ‘I want to die’, it was more of a ‘I don’t want to exist’, or ‘wish I had never been born at all’. Now it’s different, of course, I mean it’s why I’m balancing here on the edge of a bridge. It wasn’t all bad though. I loved my childhood. Mum made it special. She was my support… my best friend. I loved her so fucking much. Then… she was just gone. Dead. And I was left with Dad. That’s when it all went downhill. Grades slipped, Dad got aggressive. Never violent, but definitely more aggressive. You could tell he didn’t love me the way Mum did. I was just this dumb kid of his, some failure of a son. And he loved to remind me. Then when I told him about all the things going on with my life… he reacted a lot worse than I’d hoped. Kicked me out. Haven’t talked to him in years, but hey, good riddance I say. Mum hated him anyway, it’s why they separated when I was very little. When I had to move in with Dad after Mum died… I think another little piece of my soul died. I’m still surprised I got into university despite all that. Barely scraped through too, earning myself a useless degree that may have actually hindered my job prospects afterwards. So my education was ruined, as was any job I worked after I left Uni, as were all my relationships. Relationships… Ugh, this is the worst timing for me doing this, isn’t it? So close after Abigail broke up with me. She’s… she’s going to blame herself for this. Sure, she broke my heart into a billion tiny pieces, but she didn’t push me over the edge. Even if she did turn all our friends against me. No, I was ready for this for a long time, even back when we were dating. I just didn’t want to hurt her. And now look at me… I liked her. A lot. But I was always holding myself back with her, keeping a large part of myself locked away in fear of how she’d react. Hell, pretty sure that’s part of the reason she broke up with me. She said I was always so ‘mopey’... which she’s not wrong about, but I think she knew I was bottling things up around her, keeping her from seeing what was going on with me. She always had this big plan. She wanted me to propose soon, then we would get married, have kids… typical heteronormative crap you see on TV, with me as the loving husband who comes home after a busy day at the office. White picket fence and all that. But I didn’t want that. Well no, that’s not entirely true, I like the idea of it… but it wasn’t… me. I’m not that kind of guy. I’m not even… No, but anyway, I wasn’t right for her, she deserves her dream. So I’m glad she broke up with me. She deserves better. I just hope she doesn’t blame herself for what I’m about to do. No. I’m ready. One final breath. One final step. One final thought. Better make it a good one. …Nope. Can’t think of anything. Mind is racing too much to pin a thought down. Ah well, go out the same way I came in, eh? And with that last deep breath, I released my tight grip on the guard rail, the blood rushing back into them after they had turned white just moments ago. Momentum took over. It was out of my hands now. A stillness radiated my entire body. I was ready. This was actually happening. This is it. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YE’ DOING?” Something that felt like talons dug themselves into my shoulders, gripping tightly onto my shirt, and yanked me backwards back over the guard rail, tossing me like a ragdoll onto the pavement behind me. I crashed onto the pavement with my arse taking the brunt of the impact. Then my mind and thoughts rushed back, realising I wasn’t dead. “I…” Everything was spinning. I couldn’t focus or think. I had been at peace, ready to end it all, but then something, or someone, came along and literally yanked me from my fate, and now my mind was trying to catch up with my situation. “Hun… were you seriously about to do what I think you were about to do?” came a soothing voice, from who I assumed was the woman who just prevented me from doing something very stupid. At least I assumed it was a woman from what her voice sounded like, with the slightest twinge of a Scottish accent in there. Though it must have been some woman to have been able to throw me back over that guard rail… “I…” Adrenaline was coursing through my body, and I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to admit the truth, lie, or simply just run away. My vision was blurry and I couldn’t focus. All I could hear was this soothing voice. So I couldn’t even put a face to it. “Sweetie… are you okay?” she said, crouching down in front of me. “I… umm… I’ll get back to you on that one…” I replied, finally managing a full sentence. “Hopefully sooner, rather than later… because you were one second from ending up as paste on the road below!” It was weird hearing such a lovely, almost maternal voice form such crude imagery, but it made me laugh a bit. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “Paste…” “Is your head okay? I didn’t knock it too hard, did I?” “No… I…” My vision started clearing as I looked up at who would normally be called a ‘saviour’ in this situation, though right now… I saw her as more of a hindrance to my overall goal. Freckles. That was the first thing I noticed. Well that and the very red hair. Like… proper ginger. She couldn’t look more stereotypically Scottish if she tried. Her voice definitely matched her appearance, dressed in jeans and a simple amethyst-coloured blouse under her black denim jacket. “Good. Because sometimes I don’t know my own strength. Now… are you going to tell me your name first?” “N… Noah.” “Well N-Noah,” she replied, imitating my stutter, “Care to tell me what you were about to do?” “I think that… is pretty obvious,” I replied, smiling awkwardly. “I guess it is. And why in the world would you do something like that?” “Because…” “‘Because’? Just ‘because’? Oh come on, sweetie… give me a better reason than that!” It was always hard to tell people this. To admit what I want. “I… want… I mean… I don’t want to be here anymore…” “And why is that? Did something happen?” “No. I mean yes. But I… I’ve been wanting this for a long time. Please. Just let me go. You shouldn’t stop me…” That’s when she took my hands into hers. “Sweetie, I’m not going to let you do anything drastic right now. You’re not in the best place, and I’m here to help, okay?” She sounded so… genuinely nice? Like sweetness personified. Even her words in her soft spoken accent made me instantly drop my guard around her. Which somewhat scared me… I nearly always have my guard up. “I… don’t think you can help.” “Try me.” “No. I… I don’t want…” “...To bother me? Shush. Now tell me, precious, what happened to cause such a little cutie like you to take the most drastic action he could possibly take?” I really don’t know what it is about this woman. She… she melts away whatever protection I had guarded myself with. Her voice, her mannerisms, that cute freckled face of hers… “Come on, petal…” “I… don’t even know your name…” “Ceres,” she replied, smiling down at me. “That’s a very… unique name.” “Well I’ll take that as a compliment then, but only because you’re cute,” as she said this, she sat down in front of me, not letting go of my hands as she parked herself on the cold pavement below. “I’m… not…” “Not cute? Lies. Look at you. I bet your girlfriend is all over you.” “D… don’t have one…” “You don’t? Well sorry, sweetie, but I find that hard to believe.” “I’m too depressed for her,” I replied, hanging my head in shame, trying to look anywhere but at her face. “Her? So there was someone? Is this what it’s all about?” “No. Yes. I mean… part of it.” “Then tell me more.” “It’s just… I’ve felt like this for a long time. Since…” “Since what?” “Since I lost my Mum,” I sighed. She went silent for a second. “Ah. Yes. I know how much that hurts. No Dad to help?” “No. He… didn’t like who I was growing up to be. I wasn’t his clone, so he didn’t care. I was always too much like my Mum.” She squeezed my hand, causing me to look up into her beautiful green eyes. “Oh sweetie. I understand your pain. But that doesn’t mean you go taking a step onto the motorway below like that. Are you in therapy? Missed your meds?” “None of it works. Tried it all.” She looked at me, no smile on her face anymore. As if she was trying really hard to read me. She was thinking about something, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was that was going on in that head of hers. “Right. Come on. Come with me.” Okay… I wasn’t expecting that. But hey, as long as she doesn’t call the police or for an ambulance… maybe I can get away with just slinking off home once she’s given me a talking to, and no-one in my life will be aware of what nearly went down tonight. “I… okay…” “Good boy. Let’s go sit on a bench and you can talk about what’s bothering you. Spare no details.” ------------------------------- “So depression, dead end job, no girlfriend, bad degree, shit dad, lost your Mum, facing homelessness, and nothing the doctors are trying is working? Is that everything?” “That… is pretty much it,” I replied, shrugging at her, not knowing what else to say. Ceres had found a nice little bench in the nearby park. It was just as dead as the bridge was, probably due to it being like… 3am. She had sat me down, wrapped her jacket around me (as I had been stupid enough to come out wearing just my t-shirt and jeans. Sure, it’s only the start of September, but it’s still pretty bloody cold at 3am in the UK, no matter what time of year it is), and barely released my hands from hers the entire time. I hesitated at first. I didn’t want to go and bother this complete stranger with all my issues, even if she had just technically saved my life. Despite wishing she hadn’t done so. But something about this woman, who looked not much older than 30, made me feel so… safe… that I eventually just blurted out everything, just one big stream of consciousness. I was worried maybe I had overwhelmed her, but clearly with her little summary… she had listened to everything. Not that I told her everything. There’s some stuff that I’m not even able to talk to myself about, let alone a cute stranger who just prevented me from ‘becoming paste on the road’. “Right. Well whilst I can see why you’d want to do what you were about to do… I still think you’re an idiot for attempting it.” “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be all nice and reassuring? ‘Idiot’ isn’t very nice, is it?” I asked, smiling cheekily at her, the first smile I had managed since she saved me. “Excuse me…” she said, trying her best to hold in her laugh, the one you could clearly see bubbling at the surface. “I’m very good at what I do. Not my fault some cute idiot decided to do something stupid and change my plans…” That’s when a wave of guilt hit me. The one I had hoped to have missed… after I had done the deed. “I… oh… sorry…” I replied, hanging my head in shame. “Oh shush. I was only on my way home from work.” “Still… sorry. You should be home right now.” “No, Noah… none of that bullshit with me, okay? You were in a low place, I understand that. Hell, I understand getting to the point where you’re teetering over the edge… but I will not have you putting yourself down just for slightly inconveniencing me. I’m just happy I got to stop you before you became vulture-chow.” “We don’t get vultures in England…” “And apparently you also don’t get jokes…” she said, nudging me playfully. “Sorry…” “What did I just tell you?” “S-... ah… yeah… Fine. No more apologies. For now,” I replied, pouting slightly at this cute girl. “Good boy.” Shivers ran through my body when she said those two words. And for a moment there… I swear she could tell. But it wasn’t good shivers. It wasn’t bad. It was like… a mix of both? “Now, sweetie. I’m a bit worried about leaving you alone right now. Have you got anyone you can call?” “No,” I snapped back at her, maybe a little too quickly. “No one?” “I… no. Sorry. I’ll be fine, you can just let me go home.” “Via the motorway?” she replied, pointing in the direction of where I had nearly jumped. “Oh I don’t think so, sweetie.” “I’ll be fine…” I groaned. “Look, I’ll give you my number. If you need someone to talk to, or have a drink or something, you just call me, okay? You’re not a bother. And I want you to be okay. You’re a cute guy.” I grumbled a bit, before she finally released her hands, reaching into her shoulder bag with both of them, before pulling her phone out with one of them. “Right, come here. I’m giving you the biggest hug ever. That way you’ll want another one, and be a lot less likely to go stepping off bridges…” Hey, I wasn’t going to argue with this woman. First off, she’s cute. Secondly… she gives off this vibe of ‘do as I say, or you’ll regret it’. Thirdly… I was still calming down after everything, so if I was going to try this again… I’d need a few days, I think, to get my head back to normal. And fourthly… and most importantly… she hadn’t called anyone. She hadn’t called the police. Hadn’t called to get me locked away for my own safety. She was just… letting me go. This was the best thing that could have happened once she saved me, and I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As I stood up, she held out her arms, creating an opening for me to hug her. Slowly shuffling forward, I got closer and closer until she took the lead and stepped forward, wrapping her rather strong arms around me, squeezing me tightly. I wrapped mine around her waist and embraced the hug. With my head pressed against her chest like this, this hug felt like the best thing in the world right now. The best thing I had experienced in years. I felt all the sadness I tried bottling up, all the anger, all the pain, everything… come rushing forward, flooding my body with emotion. I began to cry into her shoulder. “There there, Noah, let it all out. You’ve had a stressful life from the sounds of it. Just let it all out. Forget about it. You don’t have to be big and strong with me.” Her words, along with the soft, comforting accent of hers… made me feel smaller than ever. Even as she stroked my blonde hair, which must have come untied from the ponytail earlier, I felt smaller than ever, despite her only being a couple of inches taller than me. And I’m 5’9! Yet I felt two feet tall compared to this woman somehow. “I… sorry I’m such a mess. You… you shouldn’t have to comfort me like this.” She squeezed me tighter, then moved her mouth closer to my ear. “Sweetie, I am so glad I ran into you tonight. I think fate brought us together. Because I think I can help you.” A small little pinch. In my upper arm. That’s all that was felt before the world… and my body… got really heavy. Before the world started spinning. Before everything felt… almost good for once. And then… the lights went out. ====================================================== Sorry for the really heavy start to this story. I promise you it gets easier. It's a very emotional story, and may have some darker moments like this. But I promise you, it's worth it. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, despite this! Like I said... I put a lot more of myself into this story... Don't forget I'm on Subscribestar! Subscribers get 2 weeks early access to chapters, and exclusive short stories (Nessa's Tale is currently the only available one). The next four chapters of my new story posted on my Subscribestar! ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my subscribers for their support over the past few years! Seriously, your support means the world to me. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Part 1: Riley was a powerful businesswoman, a force to be reckoned with. As the lead litigator for a major multinational corporation, she had clawed her way to the top through sheer determination, intelligence, and an unrelenting drive to win. Recently, she had stumbled upon evidence of illegal activities within the company—activities that could bring the entire empire crashing down if exposed. Rather than reporting it, Riley saw an opportunity. She blackmailed the CEO, Tom Kaplan. In the end she received an enormous compensation package, a significant minority stake in the company, and a promotion to the position of general counsel. In return, she had agreed to scrub all evidence of the company’s misdeeds, burying the illegal activities under layers of obfuscating legal paperwork and jargon. To the outside world, everything was now squeaky clean—untraceable, untouchable. But Riley was no fool. She had kept one piece of leverage for herself: a flash drive containing the original, unaltered evidence. No one knew about it—no one but her. It was her insurance policy, her ultimate trump card. If she ever found herself in hot water with the government, the company, or anyone else, this little chip would be her salvation. Now, Riley was en route to Switzerland to secure the flash drive in a safety deposit box, ensuring its protection. She had reached out to an old friend from grad school, Tiffany, who had risen to a prominent position at a secretive Swiss bank. Tiffany was as cutthroat as she was brilliant, with a beauty that turned heads wherever she went. Enormous breasts, long blonde hair, a sculpted athletic figure with a tight waist, visible abs, and an ass that could stop traffic—Tiffany was the kind of woman who made men drool and women seethe with envy. Riley, though beautiful in her own right, had a more slender, petite frame. She knew that, in the eyes of most, Tiffany was the prize. And Riley hated her for it. But Tiffany was also someone Riley could trust—for the right price. Riley boarded the plane early, settling into her first-class seat. She had purchased the seat beside her for full privacy, ensuring no one would disturb her. As the rest of the passengers filed in, she barely glanced their way. A bunch of rabble, she thought dismissively. Good thing she didn’t have to mingle with them. She pressed the call button, summoning the flight attendant with a sharp, impatient gesture. When the woman arrived, Riley snapped, “Champagne. Now.” The flight attendant returned moments later with a glass, which Riley accepted with a barely concealed sneer. She took a small sip and immediately scowled. “This is room temperature,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Do you expect me to toast my success with warm champagne?” The flight attendant stammered an apology, explaining that the fridge was set as cold as it could go. Riley dismissed her with a wave of her hand and a few more cutting remarks. She leaned back in her seat, sipping the subpar champagne despite her disgust. Beneath her, she thought. All of it. But she had no other choice. As she drank, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion began to creep over her. It wasn’t the kind of tiredness that came with sleep—it was a deep, bodily fatigue that seemed to seep into her very bones. Panic surged through her as she realized something was wrong. The plane was mid-takeoff, the roar of the engines drowning out any chance of her cries for help being heard. She reached up to press the call button, but her coordination was failing. Her arm felt heavy, unresponsive. She tried again, but her fingers fumbled, unable to find the button. Finally, her arm fell limp at her side. She slumped back into her seat, her body immobile. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision, swallowing her whole. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the faint glow of the cabin lights, blurring into nothingness. When Riley came to, her mind was foggy, her thoughts sluggish. She blinked, trying to clear the haze, and immediately realized something was terribly wrong. She tried to move, but her arms and legs were restrained—strapped to the armrests and seat with padded cuffs. She tried to scream, but her mouth was stuffed with something rubbery and unyielding. A pacifier, she realized with a jolt of horror. Cold air brushed against her skin, and she glanced down, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sharp black pantsuit she had boarded the plane in was gone. In its place was a garish pink onesie, covered in Hello Kitty imagery. The shirt portion clung tightly to her tors and left her toned thighs exposed. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Between her legs, she felt something thick and bulky, pushing out the fabric of the onesie. Her stomach churned as the realization hit her: she was wearing a diaper. Riley’s breath came in short, panicked gasps around the pacifier. She thrashed her head from side to side, trying to dislodge it, but it was firmly fixed in her mouth. The muffled sounds of her protests filled the cabin, but no one came to her aid. Then, the flight attendant appeared. She stepped into view with a calm, almost clinical detachment. Without a word, she reached for the pacifier and pulled it free. Riley gasped, drawing in a deep breath, ready to unleash a torrent of curses and demands. But before she could speak, the flight attendant raised a small spray bottle and spritzed a fine mist into Riley’s mouth. The effect was immediate. Riley’s mouth went numb, her tongue heavy and unresponsive. She tried to form words, but all that came out was a garbled, drooling mess. Her lips hung slack, her jaw loose and uncoordinated. The flight attendant didn’t stop there. She grabbed Riley’s forehead with surprising force, shoving her head back against the headrest. In one fluid motion, she lowered a padded metal band over Riley’s forehead, securing it tightly in place. Riley’s head was now immobilized, her field of vision fixed straight ahead. The flight attendant then reinserted the pacifier into Riley’s mouth, reattaching a strap that looped around the back of her head, ensuring it couldn’t be spat out. The flight attendant stepped away, leaving Riley to gurgle and mewl helplessly through her pacifier. Her muffled protests were drowned out by the hum of the plane’s engines, her body trembling with a mixture of rage and humiliation. Just as she began to thrash against her restraints, the screen in front of her flickered to life. Tom Kaplan’s smug face filled the frame, his lips curling into a smirk as he greeted her. “Hello, Riley,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable. Quite the outfit, by the way. Very… youthful.” Riley’s eyes burned with fury, her body shaking as she glared at him. Tom leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. “Congratulations on your new promotions, by the way. The board and I were so impressed with your… initiative. Really, we were. But when you left yourself with the option to double-cross us again? Well, that was just a bridge too far.” Riley’s heart pounded in her chest as the reality of her situation sank in. “You’re probably wondering how we found out,” Tom continued, his tone light and conversational. “Well, let’s just say you can’t trust anyone these days. Tiffany sends her regards, by the way. She was more than happy to sell you out for the right price.” Riley’s vision blurred with tears of rage and betrayal. Her mind raced, but there was no escape, no way out. She was trapped—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Tom’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, Riley. We’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we’re giving you an early retirement. Consider it a reward for all your hard work.” Riley’s eyes widened in disbelief. Early retirement? What was he talking about? Tom continued, his voice taking on a patronizing tone. “You see, Riley, we decided not to leave any loose ends this time. Tiffany was actually on this same plane last night, coming back from Switzerland to pick up her check and celebrate the successful transaction. Turns out she also using it for her return leg.” At that moment, the flight attendant wheeled out an enormous pram from the forward cabin. It was far larger than anything a child would use, its front covered with a thick blanket. From inside, Riley could hear soft mewling and cooing sounds. “Sounds like someone’s waking up from her nap,” Tom said with a chuckle. The flight attendant pulled back the blanket, revealing Tiffany. Riley’s breath caught in her throat. Tiffany lay in the pram, her wide, glazed-over eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. There was no trace of the sharp, cunning woman Riley had known. Embroidered on the side of the pram was the demeaning nickname: Tiffy. Tiffany was stark naked except for an enormous, adult-sized diaper. It was unlike anything Riley had ever seen. This was no pair of depends. It was obscenely thick and covered in childish patterns from the show Bluey. A wetness indicator ran down the middle of the diaper, its color beginning to change from yellow to blue at the bottom, indicating that it had already seen some use. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. A comically large pink bow sat planted in the front of her hair.

DIAPERED TALES FROM THE WASTELAND EPISODE 1 LEAVING THE LITTLE VAULT War. War never changes. In the year 2077, bombs were dropped across most of North America, wiping it away in less than two hours. But locked underground, protected from the blasts, some managed to escape into the safety of the Vaults. Deep in the heart of Virginia, lies Vault 86. The people of Vault 86 have lived peaceful lives for over ninety years. Most do not know what it’s like in the outside world–that outside the vault, they don’t sleep in cribs, that they aren’t able to play all day long without worry, and that they don’t even wear diapers. Armed with fresh padding, a dino pacifier, and the collected knowledge of his vault, Joe Palmer has been chosen to lead the first expedition outside in nearly one hundred years. But what will he find? *** “You’ve got your paci?” Mom asked, I pulled out my pacifier, tied on a lanyard around my neck. She nodded. “And you’ve packed spare diapers?” She checked my bag again, going through its contents one by one. “You don’t know if there’ll be any on the outside.” “I know mom!” I said, “And yes, I’ve packed spares.” I shrugged her off me–everyone was watching from behind. “Okay. I only ask because I love you, kiddo.” she smiled sweetly. “Already going out… ah. You’ve grown up so fast. Only twenty years ago you were this high!” she said, gesturing just below her knee. “Now look at you!” she leapt on me with a tight hug. “Moooom, you’re embarrassing me!” Even though she was squeezing me so hard I thought I would pass out, I accepted the hug, not knowing if I would see her again. Just before she broke away, I felt her tense up. She grunted a little, then sighed and went limp. The smell of her dirty diaper hit my nose almost immediately. As gross as it was, it didn’t bother me so much. It was the smell of home after all, a home I was about to leave for the first time. “We’re all so proud!” she gave one last, wan smile, then made her way back to the gathered group, waddling around in her freshly-filled padding. Overseer Carmichael nodded. “You’re doing a fine thing, son.” he said, and he gave me a brisk pat on the shoulder. “You get an idea of your surroundings, then come straight back here. Be gone no more than three days, understand?” “I do Overseer.” I gave a determined nod. “Good lad. We’ll have a good ol’ play party waiting for you when you get back.” he winked, and I gave him a smile. “You ready?” I looked around the room one last time. Two dozen or so people had gathered here, out of the three-hundred people who inhabited the vault. All these people had come to see me leave, I nodded to each of them. I was so nervous, my hands were sweaty and I swear I was already beginning to leak a little into my diaper. At least I would have that comfort, that reminder of the vault. “I’m ready.” I nodded to Overseer Carmicheal. The Overseer nodded slowly back, and moved up to the console, ready to open the inner doors. Everyone took a step back, I heard them draw in breath. I touched all of my equipment again, to make sure it was there–my supply bag (with food, spare diapers, and Mister Fancypants the teddy bear, of course), my holstered gun, and my pip-boy. “Joseph Olsen Palmer, we wish you good luck, and safe travels.” The Overseer pressed a button on the console, and an arm swung around to grasp at the inner door. It slid open smoothly, and spun out of the way. I took in a deep breath, refusing to look back at what I was leaving behind, and made for the outer door. The inner door locked behind me with a loud clang, and I was alone. I knew that the people of vault 86, the people I most cared about, were just behind the door, but that didn’t stop my nerves. This was it, the last chance I had to turn back, I almost went for it, went to knock on the door and call it in already. But then I saw everyone’s faces again, and the hope they had for me. So I remained alone in the darkness. Despite it all, I felt the bulk of my diaper keeping me safe under my onesie. Resolutely, I took my green dinosaur pacifier, and stuck it in my mouth. Feeling much better about my chances now that I had Tommy the T-Rex on my side, I stepped up to the outer door. It was angled slightly, tilted towards the floor like a massive hatch. I knew that when it opened, the first thing I would see would be the endless sky, just like the one painted above my crib. But so much more real. The outer door opened with much less grace than the inner one had. The machinery squealed and groaned, as if the vault itself was in pain. How long had it been shut? Nearly a hundred years? Three generations of people had never seen the outside world. My own grandpa had told me stories of when he was little, before the bombs. He’d said that people ‘potty-trained’ back then, and only wore diapers when they were little. He told me how angry he had been when they told him he’d had to start using diapers again, but after everyone began using them, he came around to the idea. Eighty years later, and diapers were the norm. It was terrifying, how quickly things could change. Vault 86 was a place to relax, and let all your worries–potty training included–disappear. Soon I would have to change my own diapers, sleep outside of a crib, and find my own food. My nerves rose suddenly, and I tried not to panic. Why was I leaving it all behind? Why did things have to change? The door inched open, and I recoiled. A golden ray of light shone through the small gap, brighter and warmer than I had ever experienced before. The sun. My panic transformed into excitement. This is why I was going out–to finally see what was outside, after all this time. The door opened completely, leaving a light cloud of dust in its wake. With a broad smile, and a mostly clean diaper, I stepped into the outside world. *** The massive door, with Vault 86 written big on the front, slowly rolled back into place, and I checked my Pip-boy–the slow clicking counter meant radiation levels matched our initial scan. So that was good. I looked around. Ahead of me was a wide, open concrete plain, dotted with the broken ruins of old buildings, and beyond that, the hills. Apparently this place was an airport, once used by soldiers, though I didn’t see any airplanes like the toy ones we had in the vault. My Pip-boy had been loaded with old maps of a town called Blackstone, in what used to be Virginia. My job was simple–match the maps to the world outside. “Oh! This is going to be so fun!” I wiggled about, unable to keep my excitement hidden away. I decided my first job was to update the area right outside the vault, so I waddle-marched all around it, and got some measurements, and made sure that the maps were up-to-date. After about an hour, just as I was coming to the end of my first survey, I realized that without thinking, I was weeing. My diaper had done a good job of soaking the accident (thank goodness) but I stopped as soon as I realized I was going. I didn’t have many diapers out here, and they would need to be rationed, so that meant holding it in as long as possible. I sighed, left with no choice but to endure the uncomfortable feeling of needing to pee pee. At least my diaper was nice and squishy now. I gave the front a poke, and giggled at the way it moved about. “Right then,” I said, taking out my checklist, “Item number twosies! Check for human activity.” The airbase was big, so big that I could barely see Vault 86 in the distance by the time I reached the edge. It was so quiet out here, I was sure that if other humans were around I would have heard some by now. Suddenly feeling very lonely, I decided it would be best if Mister Fancypants joined me out of my bag, and took him to cuddle while I continued doing a lap around the airbase. His legs dangled beneath him, whenever I got nervous I squeezed his fuzzy fur. Mister Fancypants had been with me nearly my entire life, and had insisted on bringing him with me. It wasn’t long before I came across a small group of houses on the edge of the airbase. The need to pee grew with every minute I was walking, but I knew if I could just hold on a little longer, I could save diapers for the rest of the trip. Plus, I wasn’t looking forward to changing myself all the way out here. I’d practiced a lot but I still wasn’t very good. I didn’t manage to hold it very long. Before I had completed another, wider circle around the airbase, I had to stop in a little forested area. I wriggled my legs, and squeezed them together as tightly as I could, but I struggled to push them all the way. My puffy diaper prevented me from pressing them together, and stopped me from holding myself to stop the wee, though I gave it my best shot at pushing into the padding. Before long, I was jumping from foot-to-foot doing a little potty dance. It was very rare that we had to hold our bladders in the vault, normally we just went whenever nature called, and got changed later, after all that’s what diapers were for. Unfortunately, that meant I struggled desperately with the weight of pee in my tummy, and felt a little leak into my diaper without warning. I hugged Mister Fancypants tighter, and tried my best to hold it in, but my best wasn’t enough. “N-nooooo!” Suddenly, the dam burst open, and immediately my diaper grew warm. It spread up the front of my padding, and across my bottom at the back, and made everything soft and squishy. “Aahhhh!” I gave an almighty sigh, and felt myself sag, my legs no longer tense with holding back my accident. The padding around my waist swelled and spread my legs apart even wider, until eventually my stream stopped. “Nnnnn. That felt goooood.” I said with a silly smile across my face. The now pleasantly warm diaper squished when I poked at it, now almost completely saturated. “Wow. I really had to go, didn’t I, Mister Fancypants?” I looked down at my teddy, but he gave me a blank stare back. “No need to be so mean Mister Fancypants, I really couldn’t hold it anymore!” Mister Fancypants didn’t respond. Deciding to continue my survey, I let my soaking diaper sag beneath me as I walked. There was no point in changing yet, after all I still had work to do. Besides the fact that I may as well use my diaper as much as I could before a change, I kind of wanted to find somewhere a little more private, and safe. Despite my earlier confidence being out here in the wild was beginning to give me the willies. My survey ended with a small, surprisingly neat, house on the edge of the forest. I guessed that this was the way into Blackstone, based on my maps. It was beginning to get late, and after wetting my diaper another few times, I decided it might be best to make a little camp in the building. I also quickly realized I should also probably change myself before I got a rash, or worse, leaked. I didn’t want to ruin my onesie. The house looked like a standard pre-war house, the sort I had seen in pictures in the vault. The garden, once cared for, had been left to grow messy and patchy. The wooden fence had nearly rotted away completely, but there were very few weeds, and hardly any rubble, unlike the ones I had seen earlier. I had expected the place to be in worse condition inside, but apart from a small layer of dust and a few webs here and there, it looked almost completely untouched. I stood still for a moment, and sucked thoughtfully on Tommy the T-Rex. “Yes. Dis will do niwcely.” I said from behind my paci. I uncoiled my bed-roll to act as a changing mat. It wasn’t like the ones back home, but it would do. “I can do dis. I can do dis.” I repeated to myself. With a squish that sent the yellowed padding outward, I sat down on my diaper. Getting the old diaper off was the easy bit. I ripped open the tapes, and pulled it open, revealing the very yellow padding beneath. It was all swollen and heavy. I folded it into a weighty little package, and then into a plastic bag–it was important to dispose of the diaper ethically after all, and not just leave it on the ground, even if the world had been nuked to oblivion. Right. I steeled myself. Now that the easy bit was done, things got a little trickier. After wiping myself down with a damp washcloth, I carefully retrieved the clean padding and placed it beneath me. I’d seen the Mister Handy caretakers back in the vault do this a million times, how hard could it be? I powdered over my diapered area, then lifted the front up against my belly, and leant back a little so it would stay there. Then I went to fold the back up. But by the time I turned back around, the front had fallen down again. “Mmmfff! Why is this so hard?” I tried again, but this time, focused on one side at a time. This worked much better, and I was able to stick the left side together with a single, loose tape. However, before I could continue, I heard a loud clang. My heart leaped in my chest, my hairs stood on end. I looked around the empty room, but there was no one there. Just the silence. Quickly, I went to tape up the rest of my fresh diaper. But before I could finish, I heard a familiar voice. “Get out of here, you burglar scum!” The voice called from another room. I shot up, my diaper still half-undone. “Sorry, I didn’t know this place was … well I thought everyone was dead.” “Are you trying to tell me you killed everyone? Good lord!” The voice said, growing closer. It mingled in with a gentle whirring, almost as if… “No I–” I went to protest, but just as the voice rounded the corner, I realized why it was so familiar. “A Mister Handy unit!” It must have been the one keeping the house clean. But something was wrong. The Mister Handy came through the door, from the darkness on the other-side. It’s voice was more crackly than the ones from 86, and one of its eyes was… well it wasn’t there at all. I backed up slowly. “Sowwy! I can leave ifu want?” I said, but the Mister Handy did not reply. It stopped for a moment, and moved its eye up and down, as if it was scanning me. “I-I-I-Intruders will not be t-t-tolerated!” It said, crackling. Suddenly, one of its arms arose with an attachment I’d never seen before–a buzzsaw. It whirred into motion, spinning sharp and deadly, and rushed toward me. “No!” I shouted, my paci fell out of my mouth, and not knowing what else to do I grabbed my gun. But I was too slow, before I could completely draw it, the Mister Handy’s buzzsaw launched at me. I moved out the way just in time, and the saw buried itself in the wall behind me. My gun fell to the floor. I reached for it, but the buzzsaw swooped in and I fell backwards with a crash. The Mister handy rotated, its eye focusing on me like the aperture of a camera. But when the robot tried to rush at me again, it found itself stuck for a moment, before lurching free. That gave me an idea. Quickly, carefully, I aligned myself with a light switch to my back. “Come on!” I shouted, which seemed to enrage the robot. “Intruders will not be tolerated!” Despite the strange nonchalance of its voice, it rushed at me again. I dove out the way, onto the carpet, and the Mister Handy shot straight into the wall. Its metal buzzsaw made contact with the light switch, and the wires inside. Electricity ran through it, arching and sputtering. The lights flickered on for the first time in decades, then sparked off again. I took the distraction to crawl madly for my gun. But I didn’t need it. The Mister Handy recoiled, its head spun wildly. “I-I-I-Intru-d-d-d-W-welcome home s-s-s-sir! I have ma-a-a-ade-t-traditional-carpet cleaner--s-shopping–the b-b-baby is asleep now–” and with a final garbled mess of words, its glowing eyes flickered off, and it went limp. I released a breath I forgot I was holding, and the silence returned again. *** Over the next hour, I dove into the Mister Handy’s wiring. Back in the vault, we hadn’t the resources to spare to send one with me, but if I could bring this one back, or even get it to help me out here… Thankfully, the robots were so important to our way of life in Vault 86, most people learn to take them apart and put them back together again before they turn eighteen. I was never the best at it, but I knew my way around them well enough. I decided to remove the buzzsaw attachment out of caution, and replaced it with a Rob-Co certified posable hand I found in the garage. Whilst I was at it, I renamed the unit Basil, after a pre-war TV-show they showed in the vaults. It was getting dark by the time I found the program settings, the sun was red in the sky, and golden in the treetops. The neon-green light of my pip-boy was all that lit me in the dark room. “Gardener, no. Shopkeeper, no. Driver, not that. Mmmmm, ahha–Babysitter.” I let the program run, and Basil suddenly burst into life again. Immediately, I backed up and held my gun at his eye. The robot rose quickly, and spun about itself. “Re-re-rebooting…” It stuttered, and went quiet. I worried that I had messed up the program for a moment, and quickly put my paci in my mouth for reassurance. Then, “Can I be of service, master?” The robot hovered, clearly waiting for instruction. I frowned. “What mode is cuwwently activated?” I asked through my pacifier. “Babysitter mode is activated, master. Where is said baby in need of sitting?” “Oh, I … right here.” I gestured to all of me. “Oh dear! Well we can’t have you in that state, can we master?” The Mister Handy moved towards me, and I flinched despite myself. “No…? What are you doing?” I asked nervously. “Why, changing your diaper of course, look at the state it’s in! I do say… wheoever put it on you needs a right bloody scolding” At Basil’s words, I looked down. With everything that had happened, I had forgotten to put the diaper on properly, and it still hung lopsided off me. I realized, too, that it had been a while since I last changed it, and I felt a familiar sensation below… “Hang on …” the robot paused, “What do good boys say?” “Pweese? Pweese would you change my diapee? And, could you pweese hurry? I fink I need to pee again.” “Of course!” The robot said, “And what a good little boy you are for remembering your manners!” Basil’s hand patted me on the head and I giggled. It was almost like being back in the vault. With some proper repairs, this unit could be good-as-new. I laid back down and clutched Mister Fancypants in my arms as the robot inspected my bare butt. Basil was much better at changing my diaper than I had been. For the most part, I just lay there and stared at the ceiling, sucking on my T-Rex paci as Basil cleaned me up. It felt good to be properly padded again, with the familiar bulk pushing my legs apart. Basil was a fast changer too, which was good, because I was growing desperate. Almost as soon as he had finished fastening the tapes, I let out a sigh, and felt my diaper expand as I wet it again. “My, my. Wet already! Do you need me to change you again, Master?” “No, I should be fine until the morning. Fankoo!” I slept surprisingly well that night. In fact, I slept almost like a baby. Maybe it was because I was so exhausted from the day, or maybe it was because I knew I had Basil and Mister Fancypants watching over me. Either way, I woke up early the next morning, ready to take on the day’s challenge–going further afield. Basil changed me out of a thoroughly soaked diaper, and together we made our way out. With a fresh diaper, Mister Fancypants, and Basil by my side, things were looking up. Perhaps, finally, I would be able to see what remained of the world, after all this time… END OF CHAPTER 1

Part 1 I can’t say I was in a bright point of my life, literally or figuratively. The perpetual darkness of third shift work coupled with the lackluster performance in my freshman year of college and losing my girlfriend of two years only a month before had sent me down a spiral of depression that I wasn’t certain would have an achievable recovery. I thought when I graduated from high school that I’d had life all figured out. I would take the job working the night shift at the airport for a few years, then go on to become a hot-shot business man or advertising executive. The airport would provide me with free tuition to the university a few hours from my home town, and the degree would get me the rest of the way. I guess to tell you a little bit about myself... I’m Adam Stafford. I’m the youngest child of Dennis and Joanne Stafford, and brother to Megan. I grew up in a small community that kept me sheltered from just about everything not small-town or Jesus-y. My Dad is a pilot for United Airlines, my Mom an executive for the local hospital. They divorced my sophomore year of highschool in a very messy battle, and pretty much alienated everyone in the family from each other. We’ve all gone our own ways, really only communicating for weddings, funerals, birthdays, or normal holidays. Don’t feel bad, it really is better this way. I had a pretty good childhood, no major complaints. I was always outgoing as a kid, knowing that a sharp wit and self-deprecating humor would remove any ammo that any school bullies would seek to leverage. Not to be arrogant, but I was a cute kid. Unfortunately for me, the cuteness never really went anywhere. I never hit that magical growth spurt that would cause me to tower above my friends, dunk a ball, or set records of the track. I currently stand a slightly below average height of 5’6”. I also never seemed to experience the flood of testosterone that would sculpt my body like a Greek god either. I guess I just stayed cute and youthful when everyone else became handsome and matured. But, like I said, I was never really picked on, so I didn’t mind my height or looks. I was moderately popular by highschool, usually being known as the smart-ass class clown. I had no trouble maintaining a 4.0 grade point average while also cutting jokes constantly. My humor and confidence opened up doors for me. I was nominated to prom court my Junior year, and also started dating a beautiful girl named Sarah. She was a grade younger than I was and came from a well-respected family not far from mine. As my perverted uncle Nick would say “That girl comes from good stock.” She and I dated all through my senior year, never really had any fights, and my parents adored her and hers adored me. We were voted “Most Likely to Stay Together” by the yearbook committee and happily danced in the spotlight as homecoming king and queen... a real shocker since I didn’t play football. Sarah was heart-broken when I decided to move for school. She had known it was my intent, but I think she assumed I would change my mind because we were dating. I had considered staying a time or two, but with the still fresh divorce of my parents and my sister moving away to California for school, I knew I couldn’t stay in small-town America for much longer. After the initial shock wore off, we made the plan together that she would move in with me after she graduated and we would attend college together, live together, and live up to the expectations of the yearbook committee. My job, coupled with free tuition would allow us to get an apartment together and, down the road, we’d both graduate. We’d start a family, be rich and successful, and have a marriage so happy that our grandkids would tell their children about. It was that simple, and it all laid out perfectly. She and I did everything together while we dated. I loved it at the time, but later realized that the friends I had prior to us dating all seemed to have move on. I didn’t have any core friends anymore, she consumed my every waking moment. I don’t think she was trying to cause a falling out, I think she was just so in love with the thought of being in love that she couldn’t let go. Sarah and I were both each other’s first for just about everything. We awkwardly explored our raging teenage hormones not long after we started dating, both trying to build the courage to take things just a little bit further each opportunity we had. I can vividly remember the look on Sarah’s face when she touched my cock for the first time. It was over my shorts, but I could tell she tried to play it off like an accident as her hand slowly rubbed on my thigh. Of course having zero experience and a beautiful girl rub her hands on me caused some tenting to happen rather quickly. She noticed. It was the first touch that shot electricity through my body as we laid cuddled up on the chair in the den of her parents upscale country-chic home, a blanket covering our still-clothed bodies. She moved her hand away quickly at first contact. I could see her face from the corner of my eye, flushed with excitement, very lightly nibbling on her lower lip with nerves. After a few seconds, I felt her hand begin to creep back up. I heard her sigh audibly as she very carefully laid her hand on my now fully erect dick. I could see the faintest smile form on her face as she crossed the hurdle. Both of us were too afraid to do much else, but she did very gently rub for a moment before we heard the garage door open, signaling that our alone time was at an end. From that day on, we both pushed the envelope just a bit more. I took advantage of days she would wear skirts to school and use the ease of access to fondle her anytime we had some privacy. I’m happy to say that I was her first non-self-induced orgasm, right there under that same blanket on that same chair. I can remember hearing her try and stifle her moans, no doubt fearful of waking her parents directly above us in their bedroom. It nearly sent me over the edge as well when she sucked my fingers clean right after. One evening while her parents were out celebrating their anniversary, Sarah excused herself to the restroom in the middle of ‘The Goonies’ and emerged wearing only her baby blue thong and matching bra, her hair tied up with a white lace ribbon. She approached me, my jaw now slack from the beauty I was witnessing, and yanked the blanket from my lap. She settled in on her knees in front of me trying to appear confident and sexy, but I could see her trembling from nerves. I could tell how big of a step this was for her. She pulled my shorts and boxers down, nearly ripping them in the process, and stared wide-eyed at my dick. She never really looked closely at it while using her hands. She would usually play coy and keep watching TV while jerking me off. Now though, she was face to face. I can still see the shimmer from the chapstick on her lips as she very slowly moved her mouth over the head of my cock. She froze once it was in for what felt like an eternity. I could hear her breathing becoming rapid, and for the first time in front of me, I saw her hand move quickly into the waistband of her panties as she touched herself. As she began moving my dick in and out of her mouth, her hand motions became more rapid under the thin baby blue fabric. It wasn’t 3 minutes into the blowjob before Sarah had a massive orgasm, seemingly larger than the ones I could giver her with my own hands or tongue. She pulled her face away, a trail of saliva extending from the head of my cock to her lips and only said ‘fuck’. I believe it was at that very moment that Sarah realized that she had a passionate love for giving head. She attacked my dick after that, like there was nothing else in the world. She didn’t flench when I came, just swallowed and tried to keep going until I pushed her off due to the sensitivity. Things progressed from there. Sarah gave me head every chance she could, preferring to give orgasms rather than receive them. We finally had sex a few weeks after that, in the dark basement bedroom of a friends house. I was disappointed that she didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as I thought she would, opting after maybe 5 minutes to have me pull out and finish in her mouth. We didn’t have sex often, but when we would, it always ended in the same way. Everything in life was perfect, even after I moved… or so I thought. I went home many weekends and we seemed to pick up right where we left off. Everything was perfect. Until Sarah cheated on me, at least. I heard about it from a former classmate still living back home. He said he saw Sarah and some guy in a car together driving in town. He said it was a new looking BMW, a car that isn’t very common in our small town, so he took notice and tried to see who was driving. He didn’t recognize the guy driving, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was her, he got a clear view from the windshield as they passed on the road. He said he turned around to see what was up and after about 5 minutes of following them, he said he saw Sarah sit up tall, then lean her body across the center console of the car. He said he didn’t see her again for about 10 minutes and that the guy started driving pretty erratic during that time, and kept rolling his head around. He followed at a distance and eventually saw her head rise again and they carried on. He followed them until they turned into a restaurant. He circled the block and watched them walk hand-in-hand into the building. He even said she was wearing a little yellow sun dress... I knew it well. She always looked amazing in it. I guess it goes without saying that I felt like I had been stabbed in the chest as I listened to his recanting of the story. I trusted the guy and knew he wouldn’t be saying these things to fuck with me. I quickly got off the phone with him and called her, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried again, again right to voicemail. Finally she sent me a text asking what was up. I didn’t know what else to do so I said “Jeremy saw you two together. I’m bummed you never offered to give me road head.” Of course this elicited a call back right away. I was heartbroken, but I did appreciate that she didn’t try and deny anything. She didn’t lie. She said she wasn’t happy anymore and wanted to move on. By this point, I knew what she meant. I had started working third shift already and had a rapid decline in happiness. I was always cranky, always tired. She was right and I hated myself for it. “You’re not you anymore, Adam. You’re sad all of the time... you sleep constantly. You don’t strike up conversations on the phone, and that’s all we have most of the time since we can’t be together.” She had told me as I stared blankly at the wall of my kitchen, tears now flooding my vision. “I’m sorry you found out like this, but I’m glad you found out.” “Yeah, pretty shitty way of you breaking it off though.” I countered. She agreed. That was the last time we spoke. After Sarah ended it, I sunk further into a depressive state. My life revolved solely around work, school, and Netflix in my basement studio apartment. Typically I would wake up around 10 in the morning and catch the campus shuttle to class. The classes were specifically scheduled for employees of the airport, allowing us to work nights and attend school without as much sleep depravation. After class I would usually eat some dinner in the campus cafeteria and do some homework, then report in for my shift. I didn’t mind my job. It was easy compared to the manual labor most people had to do to pay for their tuition. I drove a tug around pulling trailers of packages bound for different planes all night. All... night... long. I could usually start my shift with a conversation with the dock supervisor and not talk to another person for the rest of the night. I was known as ‘Tug 4301’ and drove the exact route from the south dock to the west ramp, spots 1, 3, 5, 7, and 9, then back to the south dock to reload and do it all again. We weren’t allowed to have music, cell phones, audio books, or anything else to help pass the time due to FAA regulations, so I had hours to see the same sights, and have the same thoughts and internal conversations. At around 3 in the morning, I would park my tug back behind the south dock and begin the walk back to the shuttle to campus. From the bus stop, it was a brief walk back to my apartment. By this time, the vast majority of the factory employees had already departed, meaning the bus ride was usually as isolated as the tug. Back in the basement abyss, the daylight blacked out by thick curtains and a “Please do not disturb, I work the graveyard shift!” sign that the previous occupant had left behind, I ended my day with some concoction of frozen meals and another episode of The Office. Occasionally, I would think about Sarah. How her hair seemed to shine as intensely as the sun. How she would nibble gently at my lower lip when she would kiss me. How she would deftly put her hair up in a ponytail and lick her lips before she would push me back towards the bed or chair... or floor and nearly attack my dick. These memories would cease thanks to my self delivered orgasm, and I hate to say it... sometimes I would cry. I would always feel ashamed. By 5am, I would be asleep, waiting for the alarm to signal that it was time to live another instance of Groundhog Day all over again. It was nearly six months into this routine that I decided it was time to get help. I knew I was depressed. I scheduled an appointment with a counselor at school on a Monday morning. I didn’t work Sunday nights, so Monday was usually my ‘live like a normal person’ day, but I knew I was going to keep going down darker and darker paths until there was no return. Fortunately by this time, the nagging memories of Sarah had faded to an occasional jolt of emotion that would strike unprovoked, but would subside after a quick orgasm. “Have you been eating alright, you look really thin...” the counselor said as I sat in the chair across from her. The question reeled in my thousand yard stare. “Umm... probably could eat better, to be honest. I don’t have much of an appetite, really.” I awkwardly responded. I had lost a significant amount of weight in the past few months. At my high school graduation, I was nearly 140lbs. At my last work physical a few days prior, I was down to 116lbs. Even at 5’6”, I was looking too thin for my frame. “Adam, this is pretty serious. I think you need to see a doctor... this may be more than you and I can handle alone. You’ve got me a bit worried.” she said with a concerned look. “Will you do that? Will you promise me that you’ll see one of our doctors?” “Yeah, I guess so. Yeah.” murmured back. “And I want you to promise me, Adam... I want you to promise me that you’ll look after yourself until then. And I want you to promise me that you’ll come back and see me after your appointment. I’m going to schedule it. Okay?” “Yeah, of course.” I said, realizing that she was genuinely worried that I would hurt myself. “I will, I promise.” She smiled at that, and attempted to give me a reassuring pat on my hand. “Maybe you should hang out with some friends until then. Maybe try and have fun... see a movie, bowl, laser tag... try and not be alone if you can help it.” she said as she escorted me to the end of the hallway of the student health center. I smiled as best I could. I hoped it to be warm, but the look on her face told me that she could see right through the facade. The walk back to my apartment seemed colder than usual. I looked around at the other people navigating their way thought the urban campus with their heads slung low to protect from the biting wind and wondered if I was alone in feeling like this, or if there were others near me right now that were struggling just as bad. Maybe if I tried, I would find others like me and we could pick each other up. If I tried... but I really didn’t feel like trying. They probably wouldn’t either. I arrived back to my apartment and sat in bed, turned on Netflix, and opened up my laptop. It wouldn’t hurt to look and see if anyone was out there. Maybe grab lunch with someone, maybe a movie. I decided to check around on some of the school forums and Facebook to see if any groups were meeting soon. I didn’t see any that really caught my interest. I eventually ended up Craigslist thinking maybe there were some groups posting on there. I browsed for a while, nothing piquing my interest. I was about to close out the page when I saw the ‘Personals’ section and decided to browse that avenue as well just for the heck of it. The ‘F for M’ section was pretty sparse, most of the women looking were significantly older, had children, or were blatantly looking for money in exchange for company. While I wasn’t seeing anything that interested me, I was finding some thrill in reading the posts. Some were witty, some funny. Some were so sexually charged that I considered responding for a split second, kids or age be damned. I navigated each section enthralled by how some people were able to put themselves out there so openly, so anonymously vulnerable. I envied their cavalier attitude and only wished I could put myself out there like they did. I kept going down the rabbit hole, page after page, profile after profile. Some of the specifics people were listing were repulsive, but many made me jealous that I didn’t have Sarah to try them with. I wasn’t really prepared for some of the detail I encountered in the ‘M for M’ section, to say the least. I had never really given much thought to gay sex, it was something that went undiscussed in sheltered small-town USA. I didn’t have any issue with gay people, but I honestly didn’t give it much more thought than that. But the level of detail described of the litany of posts from just today... I didn’t have to use my imagination much. I clicked through post after post, caught up in reading the carnal nature of the post, intrigued beyond belief by what I was reading. Most of the posts didn’t talk about love or relationships, they talked about gritty sex. They talked about gang bangs and blow-and-gos. Anonymous mouths for anonymous dicks. It was enthralling. “Loving but Firm Professional seeking Young, Inexperienced to Nurture and Teach” the title read as I scrolled down the list, measured now by minutes scrolling rather than pages. It was lost in the sea of others, but it stood out to me for some reason. I clicked the link and stared intently as the screen flickered from the main page to the posting. “Hi, thanks for reading. I’m a 38 year old legal professional looking for a young boy between 18 and 22 to teach about sexual desire. Ideal candidate is slim and naturally submissive to power, and completely inexperienced with men. I want a boy I can build from the ground up. Must have an open mind. Message me if you think this is you, you’ll know right away if it is.” Fuck. I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but my heart began to race, my hands became sweaty, and my lips dry. I read and reread the post multiple times, each time exciting me more. It was as if instinct required that I replied. I straightened myself up in bed and began to search my laptop for a face picture that was generic enough to be lost in a crowd. I didn’t want this guy recognize me right away, just in case. I found a full body picture from earlier in the fall at a Halloween party back home. I didn’t dress up, but I thought I looked decent, and the ball cap I was wearing at the time obstructed part of my face. “Hello. I’m not gay, so I’m not sure why I’m replying to be honest. I've never been with a guy. I'm 18, a freshman in college. Something about your post. It struck me. I don’t even know what else to write. You don't have to write back if you don't want or if I don't fit what you say you're looking for." Attachment: 1” My heart was frantically beating in my chest as I hit send from my spam collecting Yahoo Mail account. I had felt more alive in these few minutes than I can remember feeling since moving to the city. I stared at the inbox, nearly expecting an immediate rejection reply or an email from someone back home saying they were cat-fishing and happened to reel me in. I stared at the screen for at least five minutes, barely breathing before setting the laptop down and getting up to use the restroom and grab a drink. I nearly dove across the room when I heard the ‘Ding’ signifying a new email. “Save 15% or more on car insurance with Geico”. Damn it. What the hell was I doing. I’m not gay. I’ve literally never even thought about it until 10 minutes ago, and now I’m so worked up to get the attention of someone writing on a public forum. I closed the laptop and walked over to the chair to focus in on Season 4 of The Office... yet again. Sipping on the Diet Coke and watching Dwight be Dwight and Jim be Jim, the urge to check again struck me. It had been some time, surely enough for some sort of response. I retyped the password into the Yahoo Mail page and saw the familiar ’Inbox (1)’ notification staring me in the face. I clicked, and went weak as the page opened. There it was. “Re: Seeking” I took a deep breath and clicked on the email that loaded painfully slow. “Hello. Thanks for writing. I know you. Don’t worry, not you specifically (although hard to tell with the photo so far away). I know your type though. I'm willing to bet that you just happed to stumble upon my message without really going out and looking for it. I have a feeling this is so new to you that you've really got very little desire in actually meeting anyone. If you are serious about at least meeting up and discussing more, send me a better picture. -Steve” With a slight smirk on my face, and my heart back to racing, I opened Facebook to find a better picture to send. I selected one from a family vacation in Hawaii. I had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and was standing shirtless in front of a waterfall on the Napali Coast. I was bronzed by the sun, and a smile beaming on my face. A tinge of pain hit me as I looked at the picture, I was standing there with Sarah. Her beautiful face staring up at me, a smirk affixed to her full lips, and her gorgeous body clad in a small red bikini. I drew in a deep breath and downloaded the photo to my desktop and cropped Sarah’s face and body out of the picture until only myself and the waterfall remained. “As requested. -Adam Attachment: 1” Sent. I felt as if I were going to vomit at that point. If this were a rouse, I was surely busted. It was clearly me in the photo, no mistaking that. A screencap of the conversation with my picture plastered there was surely enough to ruin any chance I had at a happy life, if malice were intended. Ding. Inbox (1) “Re: re: re: Seeking” “You’re perfect, baby. Perfect in every way. You are exactly what I was hoping you would be. My name is Steve. I’ve been pretty clear with what I’m really looking for, so I hope that you’ll understand when I say that I’m not interested in games and flaking out on meetings, etc. If you really are interested, and if you really are willing, I want to meet you face to face. Send me your phone number if you want to keep going. Attachment: 1” I double clicked the attachment, fearful that what I had conjured up in my mind would be a far stray from reality. The painfully slow wi-fi struggled to open the picture, but when it did, I was stunned. He was so handsome. Large, for sure. Not fat at all, but he had to be at least 6’6” judging by the SUV that he towered over. He had a stern smile and an intense gaze at the camera... it felt as if he took the picture specifically for me. His hair, his suit... he was the personification of masculine. I struggled to figure out how only a few hours ago I was numb and seemingly entirely heterosexual, and now I was lusting over a man. A dominant man... and I wanted it to happen so bad. I did everything I could for the next few hours to distract myself from the email. I had to be at work tonight, so no phone, no email. I knew if I wanted to go through with this, I would need to decide well before then. He was very insistent that the only content in the reply be my phone number. What if I sent it and he called while I was working? What if he began texting me with times and locations and I was unable to reply? I knew I had to decide now. Being the decisive and confident guy I am, I flipped a coin. Okay... heads, I send my phone number. Tails... I don’t. Simple. Leave it up to fate. With a deep breath, I flipped the coin into the air. Heads. “I’m serious: 555-776-2323 -Adam”

The day that chang everything Chapter 1 Ever since Alex was young, he felt a solid connection to diapers. This fascination has been with him for many years, from early childhood when he was jealous to see other children with diapers when he was in kindergarten. Alex never dared to purchase until he turned twelve years old, and that first purchase was a trip to the store to buy Pampers, and what a rush of humiliation and excitement it gave him. That feeling made an indescribable feeling, something he had never felt before. As Alex grew older, he went on his first visit to the pharmacy and purchased his first pack of honest adult diapers; the same rush came once again. The biggest rush and humiliation he experienced was when he returned to the pharmacy, and the pharmacist woman asked directly, “Did it fit?” He is 38 years old and has a steady job and a family but no nappy play. His wife knew about this fetish but was never interested in playing with it, but then everything turned around. This is his story. ———————— It was a typical day in the office, and after working for more than 12 years in the same company, he had perfected his job. His primary responsibilities involved overseeing and assigning tasks to two incredibly talented colleagues, Bea and Tim. However, a minor issue arose with Bea, as she consistently tended to have things go her way. Although this was generally acceptable due to her exceptional job performance, her approach seemed to indicate a possible attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) or a similar condition, as she worked at an impressively fast pace. Additionally, Bea was quite assertive and rarely admitted to being wrong. Despite several discussions aimed at resolving these issues, he didn't allow it to affect their working relationship significantly. One day, his longing for the nappy became overwhelming, consuming his thoughts with intensity. Sometimes, he felt the nappy between his legs, bringing out humiliating feelings. He got so caught up in the sense of what he was wearing that the danger of making mistakes became closer. It's easy to become careless in such moments, and that is what happened. Throughout the entire week, Alex consistently wore a good, neatly pressed nappy to work. He changed it twice a day, ensuring it did not remain noticeable. While engrossed in his routine tasks, he felt a sudden tap on the outside of his jeans, followed by a small pat. Startled, he widened his eyes and slowly turned around to see who it was. It was an utterly surprising moment when he saw Bea approaching. Her smile was wide, reaching from ear to ear, and her gaze felt like it could see right through Alex. She whispered, leaning close to his ear, sending shivers down his spine. With a broad smile, she beckoned, "Hello, my little friend. Join me in your office. We need to talk." They walked into the office with his body trembling. He couldn't help but wonder what he had done. She knew it, and he was at a loss for words. Should he explain that he needed to use them because of a handicap? As he entered, his anxiety grew, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the noise from his diaper was drowning out everything else. As he walked over to his desk to sit, she suddenly closed his office door, catching him off guard. Just as Alex was about to sit down, he heard the sharp snap of her fingers, sending a new shiver down his spine. Alex felt fear wash over him, not knowing what would happen next. He looked up at her, who was gently waving her index finger. As she approached, she stood so close that Alex could feel her gentle touch on his pants. Her striking, bright blue eyes locked with his inches away, creating an intense and intimate moment. Her long red hair and beautiful slim body didn't improve the situation; they made such a magical sense. He failed to assert himself by saying stop. After all, he held a position of authority over her. “Listen, Bea, what you think you've witnessed is a condition I am dealing with...” She abruptly interrupted him and placed a finger before Alex's lips. Her piercing, bright blue eyes seemed to see right through him. "Open those jeans of yours, and let me see," she said, her piercing eyes looking straight at him. Her words echoed with increasing intensity, her tone growing noticeably more taut with each repetition. Despite his innocence, her piercing gaze and tightly locked jaw filled me with an overwhelming dread. "Listen, you need to unzip those jeans for me. If you don't do it by the time I count to three, I'll start describing in vivid detail what you're wearing to everyone," Bea said in a suggestive tone. Alex slowly unbuttoned his pants and revealed what was underneath his jeans. It was easy to attribute wearing an average diaper to a medical condition, but standing there with a bright pink plastic panty was a different story altogether. Her smile continued to grow as she scrutinized him intently. She glanced downward and listened to the rustling sound of the plastic. It became clear as she saw my gaze. She knew she had him, and he couldn't do anything about it. "I have always enjoyed spending time with boys, playfully interacting with them and teasing them during my school days, especially sissy boys. I have been feeling quite unenthusiastic for a long time, and something sparked when I noticed your little diaper butt this week; it's incredibly satisfying to embrace my playful and mischievous nature once again," she expressed with a glint of excitement in her eyes. Alex was feeling incredibly nervous. What could she possibly want from him? Did she expect him to give her more work with higher pay? If word got out at work about his little secret, it would be devastating, and he might even have to resign. And what about his wife? "Bea, what is it you want?” “Don’t stress. I'm not asking for too much; I hope to inject more enjoyment into our workday. It could benefit both of us, but ultimately, you're the one who will be experiencing it. So, let's start with the most important task: wet your diaper for me, now.” she said, determined. Her expression was incredulous—could she be serious? The thought of complying was out of the question. But her look was so intense it sent trembles down Alex's backbone. He averted his gaze and focused on the task, trying to let it flow. It began small to get wet, then gradually came more loose before it came like a waterfall. His face grew even redder in humiliation. Gently, she placed her hand under his chin, lifting his head to meet her gaze. A wide smile adorned Alex’s face as our eyes met. "Good sissy, now we both know you don't use this in medical terms. You like this, don't you?" Bea said with a seductive smile. Now, keep that diaper on; don't change it. When you need a change, you will ask. See you later, diaper, sissy. Here he stood, nervous, terrified, and wet in his diaper. The more it swelled and thickened, he couldn't put aside the fact that he also was aroused.

Tricked Into the Diaper Dimension Paul had always been a curious guy. His friends called him skeptical, but he preferred realist. Wild conspiracy theories about alternate dimensions, shrinking technology, and Amazonian giants who treated humans like babies? Please. Science-fiction nonsense. That was, until the day he found himself staring at a glowing portal. It had been a normal afternoon. He was browsing an antique shop, drawn in by the promise of “exotic artifacts” and “rare collectibles.” The place smelled of old wood and forgotten memories, and the elderly shopkeeper—an oddly tall woman with a knowing smirk—watched him like a hawk. “You look like a man who appreciates history,” she said, placing an ornate mirror in front of him. “This is a gateway to something truly special.” Paul chuckled. “Like a time machine?” The woman’s smirk widened. “Something like that. Go ahead, touch it.” He hesitated, but his skepticism got the better of him. He reached out— And the world went white. Welcome to the Diaper Dimension Paul awoke to an unsettling sensation. He was lying on something soft—too soft. The air smelled of baby powder and lavender. He sat up, blinking at his surroundings. It looked like a nursery. A massive nursery. The walls were pastel-colored, decorated with cutesy animals. A giant crib stood in the corner, and… were those oversized baby bottles on a shelf? “What the hell…” A shadow loomed over him. “Well, well! Look who’s awake!” Paul’s blood ran cold. The woman from the shop was standing there, but she was… bigger. Much bigger. Seven, maybe eight feet tall. Her arms were crossed, her expression smug. “What did you do to me?!” Paul scrambled backward, only to realize something even worse—his clothes were gone. Replaced. He looked down and— No. No, no, no. A thick, crinkling diaper was wrapped snugly around his waist. “Oh, sweetheart,” the Amazon cooed, reaching down to pat his head. “You’re adorable.” Paul’s heart pounded. He lunged off the bed, but the woman scooped him up effortlessly, cradling him like an infant. “Let me go! I’m not a baby!” he shouted, kicking and struggling. She just laughed. “Oh, honey, that’s exactly what all Littles say at first.” “Littles?” Paul’s mind raced. He’d read about Diaper Dimension stories online, but they were just fiction—weren’t they? “Oh, don’t look so shocked.” The woman carried him over to a changing table. “I told you it was a gateway to something special. And you’re exactly the kind of cutie we love here.” Paul thrashed, but she held him down with ease, popping open the tapes of his diaper. “Looks like you stayed dry for now! Such a big boy. But don’t worry, we’ll fix that soon enough.” His stomach dropped. “Fix—what does that mean?” She winked. “Let’s just say, you won’t be worrying about the potty ever again.” Paul’s face burned. He had to escape. But as he looked around the nursery—reinforced crib bars, a locked door, and the towering Amazon beaming down at him—he realized one terrifying truth. He’d been tricked. And there was no way back. The Amazon chuckled as she saw Paul’s panicked expression. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get used to it soon enough.” She pulled the diaper back up snugly, refastening the tapes with a practiced ease. “There we go, all nice and secure. Can’t have my little cutie running around naked, can we?” Paul clenched his fists, humiliated beyond belief. He wanted to fight, to struggle, but what good would it do? She was massive, and he had no real leverage. His stomach rumbled, and before he could protest, the Amazon lifted him effortlessly into her arms and carried him to a cushioned rocking chair in the corner. “Time for your feeding, little one,” she cooed, sitting down and adjusting him in her lap. Paul’s eyes widened in horror as she pulled a giant bottle from the side table. It was filled with a thick, creamy liquid, and the nipple was massive. “Oh, no. No way.” She just giggled. “Oh, baby, it’s not like you have a choice.” With one strong arm, she cradled his head against her chest and pressed the nipple of the bottle against his lips. Paul tried to resist, keeping his mouth shut tight, but the Amazon simply pinched his nose. Within seconds, his body betrayed him, and he gasped for air—just enough for her to shove the bottle into his mouth. “There we go! Drink up, sweetheart.” Paul had no choice but to swallow as the thick formula flowed into his mouth. It was oddly sweet, and as much as he wanted to hate it, his body welcomed it. He tried to stop himself, but the Amazon stroked his hair gently, rocking him as he drank, whispering soft reassurances. “Such a good baby. Drink it all up.” Paul felt warmth spreading through his limbs. His thoughts became hazy, his body relaxed. He barely even noticed when she pulled the empty bottle away—until a second, even bigger bottle was presented. “Still thirsty, aren’t you?” she teased. Paul wanted to shake his head, but he was too dazed to fight back as the nipple was placed in his mouth again. This one tasted even sweeter, and it went down so easily. He finished the entire thing without even realizing it. “That’s my good boy,” the Amazon praised, wiping a bit of formula from his lips. “Now, let’s get you all cozy.” She carried him over to a strange-looking contraption—it looked like a baby rocker but built for a Littles’ size. Paul groggily tried to struggle, but the Amazon easily secured him inside, strapping him in so he was unable to move. “There we go. All snuggly.” She pressed a button, and the rocker started gently vibrating. At the same time, a large screen in front of him flickered to life. Paul’s eyes widened as colorful shapes danced across the screen. A soft, melodic voice filled the air: “Good babies don’t worry. Good babies just relax. Good babies let go…” Paul tried to shut his eyes, but the gentle rocking, the warmth in his belly, and the soothing voice made it so hard to focus. His body felt so heavy. The strange thing was—he felt… safe. “Just let it happen, sweetheart,” the Amazon whispered, brushing his hair back. He wanted to resist, but his muscles felt limp. His body felt warm. The voice on the screen repeated over and over: “Good babies don’t hold it. Good babies just let go.” Paul felt a sudden cramp in his stomach. His eyes widened. No. No, no, no. His body tensed for a moment—then, without thinking, without control… he let go. A humiliating warmth spread through his diaper as he wet himself, and before he could even process that horror, his stomach gurgled ominously. The Amazon cooed. “Uh-oh! I think my little one is filling his diaper, just like a good baby should.” Paul whimpered, his mind foggy, his body betraying him completely. And the worst part? The voice on the screen was right. He didn’t even think about it. It just… happened. And the Amazon? She smiled. “Such a good baby.” Paul lay on the changing table, his face burning with shame as the Amazon expertly untaped his thoroughly used diaper. He wanted to scream, to fight back, but his body still felt sluggish from the formula, and the vibrating rocker’s effects still lingered in his mind. “Oh my, you really needed that,” the Amazon cooed as she wiped him clean with practiced ease. “Such a good little baby, letting it all out without a single thought.” Paul bit his lip, trying to hold back the whimper of humiliation threatening to escape. She knew what she had done to him. The show, the rocking, the drinks—it was all a setup. And worst of all? It had worked. A fresh, thick diaper was slipped under him, and before he could even try to protest, the Amazon sprinkled powder over him and taped it up nice and snug. Paul wanted to fight, to tell her he wasn’t a baby, but deep down, a new terror crept into his mind. What if she could make him forget that himself? “All done!” she chirped, booping his nose. “Now, let’s get my princess ready for a fun day out.” Paul blinked in confusion. Princess? Before he could ask, she carried him over to a closet and pulled out a pastel pink dress with frilly lace and matching booties. His stomach dropped. “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” the Amazon teased as she dressed him effortlessly, slipping the dress over his head and tying the ribbons in the back. “I was looking for a baby girl, after all. And you, sweetie, are perfect.” Paul’s breathing quickened as she plopped a matching bonnet onto his head and guided a pacifier into his mouth. He instinctively spit it out. The Amazon simply smirked, picked it up, and held it in front of his lips. “Now, now, princess. Good babies always keep their paci in.” Paul clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to— The Amazon’s smile widened. “Oh? You don’t want to listen? That’s okay, I have ways of fixing that.” Paul barely had time to process what she meant before she reached behind him, pressing two fingers into the back of his thickly padded diaper and giving it a firm pat. Instantly, a jolt of tingling pleasure shot through him, and before he could stop himself, a whimper escaped his lips. “Ah, ah, ah,” she cooed. “Let’s try that again.” Paul, humiliated and trembling, obediently opened his mouth and let her place the pacifier back in. “Such a good girl,” she praised, giving him another soft pat that sent another unwanted shiver down his spine. He wanted to cry. A Day at the Park Paul sat strapped in the stroller, his frilly dress brushing against his diaper as his Amazon “Mommy” pushed him through the park. Other Littles were playing in a nearby sandbox—some toddling, some crawling, all in various states of babified humiliation. “Doesn’t that look fun, sweetheart?” she cooed. “Go on, go play with the other babies.” Paul shook his head. No way. The Amazon simply sighed. “Stubborn girl.” She unbuckled him, lifted him out, and patted his diapered bottom. “Go on, princess.” Paul took a hesitant step forward, only for her to swat his backside, making the thick padding crinkle loudly. “I said go play.” Tears pricked his eyes as he stumbled forward, each step making his humiliatingly thick diaper waddle even more pronounced. The other Littles barely spared him a glance. Some were too lost in their own play, others were too deep in their training—minds reduced to nothing but giggles and drool. Paul swallowed hard. He had to get out of here. But before he could think of a plan— “Alright, baby girl, time to go!” the Amazon called, striding over and scooping him up. “Wh-where are we going?” Paul stammered. She smiled down at him, adjusting his bonnet. “To make things official, of course.” Registered as Baby Paula The government building was massive, sterile, and terrifying. Other Amazons stood in line with their own Littles—some babbling mindlessly, others clinging to their Mommies with teary eyes. Paul shivered as they approached the front desk. The woman behind the counter beamed. “Oh, what a cutie! First-time registration?” “Yes,” Paul’s Amazon cooed, bouncing him slightly. “I just adopted my precious little girl.” The woman typed something into her computer. “Name?” Paul opened his mouth, but the Amazon spoke first. “Paula.” Paul froze. The woman chuckled. “Oh, that’s adorable! Let me just update her records.” She clicked a few buttons, then looked up. “Any modifications requested?” Paul’s stomach turned. Modifications? The Amazon smiled sweetly. “Oh, just the standard reinforcement treatments. She’s already showing signs of resistance, so let’s make sure she’s a good, obedient baby girl forever.” Paul’s blood ran cold. The receptionist nodded. “Of course! We’ll take care of that in the next room.” Paul thrashed, his muffled screams behind the pacifier doing nothing as the Amazon easily held him tight. “Shh, shh,” she cooed, patting his diaper rhythmically. “It’ll be over soon, baby. And when you wake up, you won’t have to worry about being a big boy ever again.” Paul’s eyes widened in terror as the doors opened, revealing a padded room filled with flashing screens, humming machines, and a chair that looked far too much like a high-tech highchair. And before he could fight back— The doors shut behind them. And his new life began. Modifications for Baby Paula Paul kicked and squirmed as his Amazon captor carried him into the brightly lit room. His thick diaper crinkled with every movement, but his desperate struggle was futile. She was far too strong, holding him close as she cooed softly. “There, there, princess. No need to fuss. Mommy’s just making sure you’re the perfect little girl forever.” Paul’s muffled screams behind the pacifier did nothing as a second Amazon, dressed in a white lab coat, approached with a clipboard. “Ah, a new adoption case. And I see you’ve requested full reinforcement treatments?” the lab worker asked with a professional smile. Paul’s Amazon nodded eagerly. “Yes. She’s been so fussy. I want to make sure she fully accepts her new role.” The lab worker adjusted her glasses. “Of course. We’ll start with the standard procedures.” She gestured toward a reclining chair that looked eerily similar to a high-tech highchair, complete with thick straps and a tray. “Just place her here, and we’ll begin.” Paul thrashed wildly, but his Amazon easily overpowered him, laying him into the chair and securing the straps around his wrists, ankles, and waist. The tray clicked into place, pinning his arms down. The lab worker smiled. “Now, let’s go over the list. First: Cognitive Regression Therapy.” Paul’s eyes widened in horror. What?! The Amazon patted his head. “Oh, that one’s important. My little Paula still thinks she’s a big girl sometimes.” The lab worker chuckled. “We’ll fix that. Now, let’s add Incontinence Reinforcement, of course.” Paul whimpered behind his pacifier. He wanted to scream that he wasn’t a baby, that he didn’t need diapers, but no one was listening. “Oh, and we should enhance the Conditioned Response Triggers—you want her to wet and mess automatically on command?” The Amazon clapped her hands together. “Absolutely. She’s already responding well to her training, but I want to make sure she never hesitates.” Paul felt tears well up in his eyes. They were discussing his fate like he wasn’t even there. The lab worker made a few notes. “Lastly, would you like to remove her ability to speak like an adult? We can introduce Linguistic Regression Therapy—she’ll only be able to babble or say simple baby words unless given permission.” Paul’s stomach dropped. “Oh, that sounds adorable!” the Amazon gushed. “Yes, please.” Paul screamed behind his pacifier, thrashing as much as the straps allowed. The lab worker ignored him, walking over to a console and pressing a few buttons. The lights in the room dimmed. A screen lowered from the ceiling, positioning itself right in front of Paul’s face. Soft, colorful shapes swirled on the display, moving in hypnotic patterns. A calm, soothing voice filled the room. “Good babies don’t worry. Good babies just let go.” Paul tried to shut his eyes, but a gentle click sounded, and a headband lowered onto his forehead. A soft pulse of warmth ran through his head, and suddenly—his eyes fluttered open involuntarily. The screen’s glow seemed to pull him in. “Good babies listen to their Mommies.” Paul felt his mind grow foggy. He had to fight this. He wasn’t a baby. He wasn’t Paula. But the voice was so soothing. The colors were so pretty. “Good babies don’t hold it. Good babies just let go.” A familiar cramp built in his stomach. No. No, he wouldn’t. But his body was no longer his own. His muscles relaxed, and— A warm, mushy sensation spread through his diaper. Tears of humiliation rolled down Paul’s cheeks. His Amazon cooed. “Ohhh, good girl!” The lab worker nodded. “Excellent response time. Let’s reinforce that.” Paul could barely think. His body felt warm, his mind felt hazy. Every time the voice spoke, his thoughts felt… softer. “Good babies don’t talk like grown-ups. Good babies just make cute little sounds.” Paul’s lips tingled. He wanted to protest, to scream, but when he tried to form words— “Nuh… buh… wuh…” His tongue felt too big. His words came out as nonsense. The Amazon beamed. “Oh, Mommy’s precious little baby girl!” Paul’s heart pounded. He had to fight this. He had to— “Good babies love their Mommies.” Paul felt warmth flood his chest. Mommy…? No. No, he wasn’t a baby. “Good babies love being little.” Paul’s mind fogged even more. It was so hard to think… The screen dimmed. Paul blinked slowly, his head lolling to the side. His Amazon unstrapped him, lifting him into her arms. “Aww, my sleepy little princess,” she cooed, cradling him. “Did you have a nice session?” Paul’s lips moved. He needed to say something. To fight back. But all that came out was a soft, helpless whimper. The Amazon smiled. The lab worker nodded. “She’s responding beautifully. After a few more sessions, she’ll be completely regressed. You’ll have the perfect, mindless little baby girl.” The Amazon rocked him gently. “That’s exactly what I wanted.” Paul’s foggy mind barely registered the pacifier being placed between his lips. He suckled without thinking. And Mommy? She smiled. “Welcome to your new life, baby Paula.” Trapped in a Baby’s Body: A Slow and Inevitable Fall Paula’s mind remained sharp. That was the worst part. She was still Paul. Still the same adult inside. She remembered everything—the life she had before, the independence, the freedom. But it didn’t matter anymore. Because her body wasn’t hers now. She had no control. No way to fight back. Every attempt to resist was met with failure, with her limbs responding only in the clumsy, uncoordinated way of an actual infant. Her fingers could barely grip objects, her legs could no longer support her weight, and when she tried to speak, her mouth only produced soft, babbling coos. And the worst part? Her body loved it. It had been weeks since the clinic visit that changed everything. The first time it happened, she had been horrified—mortified that using her diapers sent waves of pleasure through her body. But now? Now, it was inevitable. Every time her body let go—whether in the playpen, in the highchair, or strapped into her stroller—she would gasp, shudder, and sigh in helpless pleasure. And Mommy loved it. “Such a good baby,” she would coo, stroking Paula’s cheek as she lay in a used diaper, too weak to move. “Mommy’s little princess loves making squishy diapers, doesn’t she?” Paula would burn with humiliation, but her body would only respond in the worst way—a soft, happy sigh, a relaxed wiggle, a blissful, dumb little coo. And deep down, the fear began to creep in. Because she could still think. She knew this was wrong. But her body wanted it. A Turn for the Worse At first, Paula clung to the small victories. Even if her body was out of her control, she still knew who she was. She still thought like an adult. She could mentally rebel, even if her body betrayed her. But one morning, everything changed. Mommy had just finished strapping her into her highchair for breakfast. The warm, thick formula filled her bottle, and as always, she nursed automatically, her body obeying the instincts that had been forced upon her. But something felt off. Mommy smiled at her, stroking her hair. “Mommy’s little girl is so happy today,” she cooed. Paula frowned internally. No, I’m not. But… was she? She was warm. Comfortable. The formula was sweet and filling. The pacifier clipped to her dress was comforting. Her diaper was soft, thick, safe. A strange, fuzzy feeling settled in her head. And for the first time in weeks… she couldn’t quite remember why she had been so upset before. She blinked. Something was wrong. She still had her mind, but it felt… slower. Softer. Her thoughts weren’t as sharp. It was harder to focus, harder to hold on to the panic she knew she should be feeling. Mommy smiled. “There we go,” she whispered. “That’s a good baby girl.” Paula’s stomach dropped. No. No, no, no. She knew what was happening. The process wasn’t done. The body control was just the first step. And now? Now, it was creeping into her mind. Slowly. Subtly. Just enough to make her forget why she ever wanted to fight. Paula’s eyes widened in terror. She still had time. She could hold on. She wouldn’t let this happen— Then, she felt it. Her stomach gurgled. Her body relaxed. And the second her diaper grew warm and heavy beneath her, the pleasure hit harder than ever before. Paula gasped. Her back arched. A shudder of pure bliss ran through her, blanking out every thought for one horrifying, endless moment. And when it passed— She blinked. What… what was she… thinking about again? Mommy kissed her forehead. “There’s my happy baby,” she cooed. And Paula? She giggled. A Second Chance Paula sat helplessly in her highchair, the faint hum of the nursery mobile spinning above her. She knew she should be scared—she had felt the changes creeping in, her thoughts getting softer, her resistance slipping. But every time she tried to focus, her body betrayed her, responding with the helpless, infantile joy that had been forced onto her. And now, it was almost too late. Mommy had taken her final steps—had dressed Paula in her frilliest outfit, brushed her hair into perfect curls, and taken one last photo for the auction catalogue. Soon, she would belong to someone new, someone who wouldn’t even know she had once been an independent adult. But fate had other plans. Just as Mommy lifted Paula from the highchair, the front door burst open. “Amazon authorities! Step away from the Little!” Paula blinked in confusion as armed officers stormed the nursery, their presence overwhelming. Mommy froze, her confident smile twisting into shock. “What—what’s the meaning of this?” she stammered. “We have evidence of illegal modifications,” one officer said coldly. “Your ‘adoption’ process violates every law in the book. You’re coming with us.” Mommy’s face paled. “No! She’s mine! She’s perfectly happy! I—” “Save it.” The officer grabbed her by the arm. “You’re under arrest.” As they hauled Mommy away, Paula sat in stunned silence. Her mind was still slow, still hazy, but deep inside, something flickered—hope. A New Beginning The rehabilitation process took weeks. Paula had been taken to a special center where medical experts worked tirelessly to reverse the worst of her conditioning. The changes to her body couldn’t be undone—she would always need diapers, would never regain full motor control—but her mind? That, at least, could heal. Slowly, the pleasure responses faded. Slowly, her thoughts became clear again. And one day, for the first time in months, she was able to speak. “I… I remember,” she whispered, gripping the therapist’s hand. “I remember everything.” She wasn’t just Paula anymore. She was Paul again. Even if the body didn’t match. A Family, Not an Owner When she was finally well enough, Paula was placed with a new family—not another cruel Amazon looking for a doll, but a kind, gentle woman named Emily who truly cared. “I know you’ve been through a lot,” Emily told her one night as she rocked her gently. “But you’re safe now. No more clinics. No more auctions. No more mind games.” Paula’s body still refused to obey her, still kept her helpless and dependent. But for the first time in so long… she didn’t feel trapped. She felt free. And as Emily stroked her hair and whispered soothing words, Paula let herself relax—truly relax—not from forced conditioning, but because, for the first time in forever… She finally felt loved.

Hello babies! It's been a long time since I posted updates and it's because I've been working on a new project called "Mia's Stories". I've been working on this game for many months and I hope you really like everything I've done. What is Mia's Stories? Mia's Stories is the last project I'm working on and it's going to consist of several ABDL games in the same launcher. I am currently developing Hypnosis, the first Mia's Stories game. What is Hypnosis about? Hypnosis is about a young woman named Clara who has had urinary incontinence since she was little, however lately she has stopped having accidents at night and is finally going to be able to stop wearing diapers. However, her mother de ella has gotten used to having her little baby de ella pampered by her and she is not going to let her stop wearing diapers, so through different methods her mother de ella will make her wear a diaper again. You can download the demo from Itch.io and if you want the latest version of the game you can download it on Patreon. Of course I will be developing more content for Hypnosis. When I make an update I will publish a changelog in this post, you can also see all the changelogs on patreon for free. --------------------------------------------------- Demo Link (Itch.io): Here Download Link (Patreon): Here --------------------------------------------------- Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ABDLMiah Discord: https://discord.gg/Bn8JKDvCzZ ---------------------------------------------------

The car ride to the Easter fair was tense, though Clara and James seemed oblivious to Eleanor’s simmering discomfort. Eleanor sat in the backseat, arms crossed, staring out the window as Clara chattered excitedly about the fair. Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as she watched her sister and James exchange affectionate glances. Clara, younger by five years, already had everything Eleanor lacked: a loving husband, a cozy home, and a life that seemed to be moving forward. Eleanor, on the other hand, had little to celebrate—a dead-end job, a nearly empty social calendar, and a love life that had been dormant for years. Eleanor’s friendships had dwindled over the years as her friends got married and started having kids. She had always preferred to focus on fun and her career, thinking they were ridiculous for giving up all their free time to spend it with babies. But now, she was largely alone on weekends, with no one to call or hang out with. That was the only reason she had agreed to go to this stupid, childish fair with her sister in the first place. She had nothing better to do. “So, Ellie,” Clara said, turning in her seat to face her sister, “how’s work been? Still at that marketing firm?” Eleanor forced a tight smile. “Yeah, still there. Same old, same old.” Clara nodded sympathetically, though her tone was annoyingly cheerful. “Well, at least you’ve got stability, right? And hey, any new guys on the horizon?” Eleanor’s jaw tightened. “No. Not really my priority right now.” James chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ll find someone, Eleanor. You’re a catch.” Eleanor rolled her eyes but said nothing. The conversation shifted to Clara and James’s plans for the future, and Eleanor’s discomfort grew as they casually mentioned they were trying for kids. Clara’s face lit up as she gushed about baby names and nursery themes, while James grinned proudly. Eleanor felt a knot of jealousy tighten in her chest. She forced a polite smile, but inside, she was seething. Why did Clara get to have it all while she was stuck in a life that felt like it was going nowhere? When they arrived at the fair, Eleanor was relieved to escape the confines of the car. The park was bustling with activity, but something felt off. The first thing she noticed was the lack of children. Instead, the fair was filled with adults. Most acting normally. However, she noticed that some seemed to be dressed in more childish garb: women sun dresses that were a tad too short, men in shorts that seemed a bit too short, their polo shirts tucked tightly into them. She saw one woman across the parking lot walking somewhat awkwardly ahead of two older adults, seemingly her parents. She wore a pink shirt and yellow tights. Eleanor was rather far off, but the seat of the woman’s pants seemed off. It was almost puffy, and not they way you would get from a big ass. “Isn’t this place great?” Clara said, oblivious to Eleanor’s discomfort and yanking her out of train of thought. “It’s so… whimsical!” Eleanor sighed at the childish exuberance of her sister. If she’s going to be like this all day, I am in for a long one… Eleanor muses judgmentally to herself. Inside the fair, things were generally normal. Food stands scattered about, little picture opportunities put together here and there. People bustling to and fro in their best spring get ups. Basically, to Eleanor, it looked horrifically boring. “This is… nice,” Eleanor said carefully, trying half-heartedly to mask her lack of enthusiasm. Clara laughed. “Isn’t it fun? Just let loose, Ellie. You’re always so serious.” Eleanor forced a smile, but her mind was still occupied by the woman in the parking lot. Even here in the fair, something about this place felt wrong, and she couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread. As the three wandered deeper in to the fairground, Eleanor’s boredom worsened. She couldn’t help but be annoyed at the exaggerated excitement her sister and brother in law derived from every cheap egg painting stand and bunny statue. The couple were now taking pictures of each other with a wooden cutout of the easter bunny, while Eleanor sat in languid boredom. She scanned the fairgrounds, her eyes narrowing at the odd lack of children, even this far into the event. Suddenly her attention was pulled to a scene across the way. Eleanor noticed the commotion from a distance—a man, perhaps in his late thirties, was stomping his feet and wailing, his face red with frustration. Curiosity piqued, she broke away from Clara and James, weaving through the crowd to get a closer look. As she approached, she took in the man’s outfit: corduroy pants, an oxford shirt with little anchors sewn onto it, and a sweater vest adorned with tiny bunnies. At first glance, it seemed like a dapper, if slightly eccentric, ensemble. But the longer she looked, the more unsettling it became. There was something off about it, as if a child’s Easter outfit had been blown up into adult proportions. The colors were too bright, the patterns too whimsical, and the fit just slightly too exaggerated, like a costume rather than clothing. Eleanor’s stomach twisted as she watched the man throw a full-blown tantrum over a dropped ice cream cone, his voice high-pitched and whiny. “I want another one! You ruined it!” She glanced around, half-expecting someone to intervene or laugh at the absurdity of the scene, but no one seemed to care. Instead, the man’s companion—a woman in a pastel dress—calmly tried to soothe him, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Eleanor took a step back, her unease deepening. Something about this place was deeply wrong. She glanced around, half-expecting someone to intervene or laugh at the absurdity of the scene, but no one seemed to care. Instead, she caught the eye of another woman nearby, perhaps in her mid-thirties, who was staring at the man with a furrowed brow and a look of deep concern. The woman stood next to an older lady who resembled her mother, but unlike her daughter, the mother was smiling and happy about everything going on, just like Clara and James. For a brief moment, Eleanor felt a flicker of relief. I’m not the only one who thinks this is weird, she thought. But before she could say anything, Clara grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a booth selling handmade Easter baskets. “Isn’t this place amazing?” Clara said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “It’s so… quirky! I love it.” Eleanor forced a nod, her eyes darting back to the crying man, who was now being led away by the caretaker, still sniffling. She wanted to say something, to point out how bizarre it all was, but Clara was already dragging her toward the next attraction, chattering about how cute the baskets were. After the unsettling encounter with the man in the oversized Easter outfit, Eleanor tried to shake off her unease by focusing on the more mundane aspects of the fair. Clara and James, still blissfully oblivious, led her to a lemonade stand, where the three of them stood in line, debating the merits of funnel cake versus cotton candy. Clara was adamant that funnel cake was the superior choice, while James argued that cotton candy was the quintessential fair treat. Eleanor half-listened, her mind still preoccupied with the strange scenes she’d witnessed earlier. Once they had their lemonade, they wandered over to a booth selling handmade Easter crafts. Clara cooed over a set of pastel-colored ceramic eggs, while James picked up a wooden bunny figurine and made it “hop” along the table, earning a laugh from Clara. Eleanor forced a smile, trying to play along, but her attention kept drifting to the crowd around them. There was something about the atmosphere that felt off—too cheerful, too forced, like the fair was hiding something beneath its bright, whimsical surface. As they moved on, Clara spotted a face-painting booth and dragged Eleanor over, insisting they get matching designs. Eleanor reluctantly agreed, choosing a small butterfly on her cheek, while Clara went all out with a full bunny face. James snapped a few photos of them, joking that they looked like they belonged in the fair’s parade. For a moment, Eleanor almost forgot her discomfort, caught up in the lightheartedness of it all. But the moment didn’t last. As they walked away from the booth, Eleanor’s eyes landed on a man nearby, his camera raised as he gleefully snapped photos of someone posing with the Easter bunny mascot. At first, Eleanor assumed it was a child, but as she got closer, she realized with a jolt that it was a grown man—likely in his late twenties or early thirties. He was dressed in a pastel blue footed onesie with a teddy bear embroidered on the chest, and his behavior was unmistakably childlike. He was bouncing on his toes, clapping his hands, and giggling uncontrollably as the bunny mascot waved and hopped around him. The man with the camera was encouraging him, his voice high-pitched and overly enthusiastic. “That’s it! Big smile! Look at the bunny! So cute!” Eleanor was stunned, her stomach twisting. The man posing for the photos wasn’t just acting childish—he seemed fully regressed, his demeanor and movements indistinguishable from those of a four-year-old. His wide-eyed excitement and exaggerated gestures were unsettling, and the way the photographer fawned over him made Eleanor’s skin crawl. She glanced around, hoping that everyone else was as shocked as her, but no one seemed to care. In fact, a small crowd had gathered, smiling and cooing as if this were the most normal thing in the world. That’s when she saw her: a woman in her early twenties, dressed in a frilly pink dress with matching bonnet and knee-high socks. She was toddling unsteadily on her feet, giggling uncontrollably as she chased a butterfly. Her movements were exaggerated and clumsy, like a toddler who hadn’t quite mastered walking. A man—her partner, perhaps—stood nearby, watching her with a fond smile. Eleanor stared, her lemonade forgotten. The woman’s behavior was so bizarre, so wrong, that Eleanor couldn’t look away. She glanced at Clara and James, expecting them to react, but they were too engrossed in their dessert debate to notice. Eleanor’s discomfort grew as she watched the woman plop down on the grass and start playing with a stuffed bunny, babbling incoherently. She wanted to say something, to point out the absurdity of it all, but Clara and James were already moving on, their laughter ringing in her ears as they headed toward the next attraction. “Clara,” Eleanor said, her voice tight, “do you see that?” Clara followed her gaze and laughed. “Oh, how cute! She’s really getting into the spirit of things.” Eleanor blinked, stunned. “Cute? She’s acting like a child. That’s not normal.” Clara waved her off. “Relax, Ellie. It’s just a bit of fun. You should try it sometime—you’re always so serious.” Just as Clara grabbed Eleanor’s arm to pull her toward the next attraction, the woman in the pink dress suddenly squatted down, her face scrunching up in concentration. Eleanor’s eyes widened as she realized what the woman might be doing. Her stomach churned at the thought, but before she could process it further, Clara was tugging her away. “Come on, Ellie! You’re missing all the fun!” Clara said, her voice cheerful and oblivious. Eleanor glanced back over her shoulder, her mind racing. The woman was still squatting, her bonnet bobbing slightly as she shifted her weight. Eleanor felt a cold knot of dread settle in her chest as Clara and James led her away, their laughter ringing in her ears. Suddenly James interrupted, holding up a funnel cake. “Got it! Let’s find a spot to sit.” As they walked away, Eleanor glanced back at the woman, who was now lying on her back, kicking her legs in the air and giggling. The man knelt beside her, wiping her face with a handkerchief as if she were a child who’d made a mess. Eleanor shuddered and quickened her pace to catch up with Clara and James. As the three sat at a picnic table, Clara and James eagerly enjoying their festive fried deserts, Eleanor excused herself to use the restroom, desperate for a moment alone to collect her thoughts. The fair’s restroom was surprisingly large, with several stalls and a separate area for changing tables. As she washed her hands, she heard a soft cooing sound coming from the changing area. Her curiosity piqued, she peeked around the corner and froze. There, on a massive changing table, was the woman from earlier—the one in her mid-thirties who had shared Eleanor’s concern about the fair. She was lying on her back, her legs in the air, as a caretaker changed her diaper. The woman’s face was lit up with childish delight, her eyes wide and innocent as she babbled and clapped her hands. Eleanor’s stomach churned as she realized the woman was now completely regressed, her behavior and demeanor indistinguishable from that of a toddler. Eleanor’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to process what she was seeing. The woman’s mother—the older lady who had been with her earlier—was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the caretaker was cooing softly, treating the woman like a baby. Eleanor’s mind raced as she tried to make sense of the scene. Was this some kind of twisted performance? Had the woman been drugged? Or was something even more sinister at play? She wanted to look away, to pretend she hadn’t seen anything, but she couldn’t. The woman’s transformation was too shocking, too horrifying to ignore. As the caretaker finished the diaper change and helped the woman off the table, Eleanor finally turned away, her heart pounding. She stumbled out of the restroom, her mind reeling. When she found Clara and James, she immediately confronted them. “Did you bring me to some kind of fair for… for retards?” Eleanor hissed, her voice trembling with disgust. Clara looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? It’s just a fun Easter fair!” Eleanor wasn’t convinced but decided to drop it, though her discomfort lingered. She couldn’t shake the image of the woman on the changing table, her once-concerned eyes now vacant and childlike. As they moved on to the next attraction, Eleanor couldn’t help but feel that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Eleanor excused herself to use the restroom, desperate for a moment alone to collect her thoughts. The fair’s restroom was surprisingly large, with several stalls and a separate area for changing tables. As she washed her hands, she heard a soft cooing sound coming from the changing area. Her curiosity piqued, she peeked around the corner and froze. There, on a massive changing table, was a woman in her mid-thirties, lying on her back with her legs in the air. An older woman—clearly her mother—was changing her diaper, her hands moving with practiced ease. The younger woman babbled and clapped her hands, her face lit up with childish delight. Eleanor’s stomach churned as she realized the woman had used the diaper. The sight of a grown adult in such a state was deeply unsettling, and Eleanor felt a wave of disgust wash over her. She wanted to look away, to pretend she hadn’t seen anything, but she couldn’t. The scene was too bizarre, too horrifying to ignore. The mother finished the diaper change and helped the woman off the table, cooing softly as she adjusted the woman’s bonnet and smoothed out her frilly dress. The younger woman giggled and toddled off, clutching a stuffed bear to her chest. As they turned to leave, the woman nearly ran into Eleanor, her bonnet bouncing with each clumsy step. The mother quickly apologized, her voice warm and cheerful. “Oh, I’m so sorry! She’s just so excited today. Come along, sweetheart,” she said, taking the younger woman’s hand and leading her away. Eleanor stood frozen, her heart pounding. As the pair disappeared around the corner, an eerie feeling crept over her. There was something familiar about them—the way the younger woman had looked at her, the mother’s cheerful demeanor. It reminded her of the pair she had seen when she first entered the fair: the woman in her mid-thirties who had shared her concern about the place, and her mother, who had been smiling and happy despite the oddities around them. No, Eleanor thought, shaking her head. It can’t be them. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me. But the more she tried to dismiss the thought, the more it gnawed at her. The resemblance was uncanny. Could it really be the same woman? And if so, what had happened to her in the span of a few hours? Eleanor’s unease turned to panic. She rushed out of the restroom and found Clara and James nearby, laughing as they shared a funnel cake. Without preamble, Eleanor grabbed Clara’s arm and hissed, “We need to leave. Right now.” Clara blinked, confused. “What? Why? We haven’t even seen the Easter egg hunt yet.” “This place is… it’s not right,” Eleanor said, her voice trembling. “Did you see what’s going on here? Grown adults acting like children, wearing diapers, being treated like babies—what is this place?” Clara frowned, her expression a mix of concern and amusement. “Ellie, it’s just a fun fair. You’re overthinking things. It’s all part of the theme.” “Theme?” Eleanor snapped. “This isn’t a theme, Clara. This is… this is sick. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want to leave. Now.” James stepped in, his tone calm but firm. “Hey, let’s not ruin the day, okay? We’re here to have fun. The Easter egg hunt is the main event—we can’t miss that. Come on, let’s go.” Before Eleanor could protest further, James took Clara’s hand and started walking toward the egg hunt area. Clara glanced back at Eleanor, her expression softening. “Just try to relax, Ellie. You’ll see—it’s all in good fun.” Eleanor hesitated, her mind racing. She wanted to argue, to demand answers, but Clara and James were already moving, their cheerful voices a stark contrast to the growing horror she felt. Reluctantly, she followed, her unease deepening with every step. Clara and James led Eleanor toward a large tent at the edge of the fairgrounds, its entrance flanked by colorful banners advertising the Easter egg hunt. Eleanor’s unease grew as they approached. The tent was massive, with rows of registration tables lined up inside, manned by cheerful staff in pastel-colored uniforms. The setup seemed excessive for a children’s event, and Eleanor couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. “Why does a kids’ Easter egg hunt need all this?” Eleanor muttered, more to herself than to Clara and James. But they didn’t seem to hear her, their attention focused on a chipper young woman at one of the desks. She wore a pastel yellow shirt with the fair’s logo and greeted them with a bright smile. “Welcome! What can I do for you today?” the woman asked, her tone sugary sweet. Clara stepped forward, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Hi! We had a last-minute sign-up. We were originally just planning to watch, but we realized that Eleanor here”—she gestured to Eleanor, who stiffened—“could really benefit from a little fun and relaxation. She’s been so stressed lately, and we thought this would be the perfect way to help her unwind.” Eleanor’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you talking about? I didn’t sign up for anything! This is ridiculous. I want to leave. Now.” The desk lady’s smile didn’t waver. She reached under the table and pulled out a large pacifier with straps hanging from either side. “No problem at all!” she chirped, handing the pacifier to Clara. “You can administer this yourself if you’d like. It’ll help her relax and get into the spirit of things.” Clara took the pacifier with a gleeful smile, her eyes lighting up as she examined it. “Oh, perfect! Thanks so much.” Eleanor took a step back, her heart pounding. “Clara, what the hell are you doing? This isn’t funny anymore. I’m leaving.” She turned to go, but before she could take more than a few steps, two large men in the same pastel uniforms appeared behind her. They grabbed her arms from either side, their grip firm and unyielding. Eleanor’s breath hitched as she struggled against them, her voice rising in panic. “Let me go! What is wrong with you people? Clara! James! Do something!” But Clara and James just stood there, watching with amused smiles. Clara stepped forward, holding the pacifier in one hand. “It’s for your own good, Ellie. You need to relax and let go for once in your life.” “No! Stop! This isn’t—!” Eleanor’s protests were cut off as Clara shoved the pacifier into her mouth. The rubber nipple filled her mouth, muffling her screams. Clara quickly wrapped the straps around Eleanor’s head, securing the pacifier tightly in place. Eleanor thrashed and tried to scream, but the sound was reduced to a muffled whimper. The two men began dragging her away, their hands like iron clamps on her arms. Eleanor twisted her head to look back at Clara and James, her eyes wide with terror and betrayal. They stood there, smiling and waving as if she were a child being dropped off at summer camp. “Have fun, Ellie!” Clara called after her, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “You’ll thank us later!” Eleanor’s muffled screams echoed in her ears as she was hauled deeper into the tent, the cheerful decorations and pastel colors now feeling sinister and oppressive. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the reality was too horrifying to comprehend. She was trapped, and there was no one to help her. Eleanor was dragged into the massive tent, her heart pounding as she took in the chaotic scene. The space was a flurry of activity, with dozens of people moving about in a strange, choreographed frenzy. Some adults, like her, were being forcibly led from one area to another, their protests muffled by pacifiers or drowned out by the cheerful chatter of the staff. Other attendants scurried around, their arms laden with pastel-colored clothing and what looked like enormous diapers. The air was thick with the scent of baby powder and something sweet, almost cloying, like cotton candy. Eleanor was shoved into a line leading to a row of changing stations. Each station was equipped with a massive table, padded and covered in a waterproof material, and surrounded by attendants in pastel uniforms. The woman in front of Eleanor was kicking and squirming, her muffled screams barely audible through the pacifier strapped to her face. Two attendants struggled to hold her down as a third tried to fasten a frilly dress over her squirming body. “We’re going to need a dose of Springtime Calm!” one of the attendants called out, her voice cheerful but firm. A woman in a nurse’s uniform appeared, holding a syringe filled with a pale pink liquid. She approached the panicking woman with a gleeful smile, humming a nursery rhyme under her breath. Without hesitation, she injected the liquid into the woman’s arm. Almost immediately, the woman’s body went limp, her eyes still darting around in panic, but her limbs no longer responding to her commands. The attendants quickly finished dressing her, sliding an adult-sized pull-up over her hips and smoothing out the frilly dress. They lifted her off the table and set her on her feet, where she stood swaying slightly, her eyes wide and terrified. Eleanor’s stomach churned as she watched the scene unfold. She clenched her fists, her mind racing. She wanted to fight, to scream, to run, but the memory of the woman’s sudden paralysis stopped her. If I fight, they’ll sedate me too, she thought. I need to stay alert. I’ll find a way out later. When it was her turn, Eleanor forced herself to remain still, her body tense as she was led to the changing table. The attendants helped her onto the padded surface, their hands firm but not unkind. One of them, a woman with a bright smile and a name tag that read “Miss Daisy,” began removing Eleanor’s clothes. When she reached Eleanor’s undergarments, she let out a laugh. “Oh my, aren’t these fancy?” Miss Daisy said, holding up Eleanor’s satin underwear. “So sexy! Totally inappropriate for a little baby on Easter, don’t you think?” Eleanor burned with humiliation, her cheeks flushing red as the other attendants giggled. She clenched her teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Miss Daisy tossed the underwear aside and reached for an enormous white diaper, unfolding it with practiced ease. The diaper was thick and puffy, its material soft but unyielding. As it was fastened around her hips, Eleanor couldn’t help but notice how it felt against her skin—bulky and restrictive, the padding pressing against her thighs and waist. The crinkling sound it made as she shifted slightly only added to her humiliation. She felt like a child, helpless and exposed, and the sensation made her stomach twist. But it didn’t end there. Miss Daisy and the other attendants stripped Eleanor completely, removing her shirt and bra and leaving her in nothing but the diaper. They then pulled a pastel yellow shirt over her head, its hem barely reaching the top of the diaper. The shirt was loose and childish, adorned with a cartoon duck and the words “Easter Cutie” in bold, cheerful letters. Eleanor’s face burned as she was helped off the table, her legs trembling slightly beneath her. The attendants cooed and fussed over her, adjusting her shirt and patting her diaper as if she were a toddler. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but she forced herself to stay calm, her mind racing as she plotted her next move. Just play along for now, she told herself. You’ll find a way out. You have to. Eleanor was led into a line of other adults, all dressed in similarly humiliating babyish outfits. The line snaked toward a small square area surrounded by tall curtains, its entrance marked by a cheerful banner that read, “Step Inside for a Magical Easter Surprise!” The irony of the sign was lost on no one—except, perhaps, the attendants, who bustled about with smiles plastered on their faces, herding the adults like sheep. The other adults in line were a mix of compliance and resistance. Some, like the woman who had been sedated earlier, stood swaying slightly, their eyes glazed over and their movements sluggish. Others, still conscious, fidgeted nervously, their pacifiers bobbing in their mouths as they mumbled incoherent protests. The outfits ranged from toddler-like—frilly dresses, overalls, and bonnets—to full infantile attire, complete with onesies and bibs. Eleanor’s yellow ducky shirt and bulky diaper felt almost modest by comparison. As she stood in line, Eleanor’s mind raced, her eyes darting around as she searched for an opportunity to escape. The attendants were everywhere, their pastel uniforms blending into the chaos like a pastel nightmare. She noticed a gap in the crowd near the edge of the tent, but before she could act, an attendant stepped into view, blocking her path. Eleanor clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay calm. Wait for the right moment, she told herself. You’ll only get one shot. Her attention was drawn to the curtained area ahead. Bright lights flashed from within, casting colorful patterns on the fabric walls. The adults who entered never seemed to come back out, which only deepened Eleanor’s unease. What were they doing in there? What new humiliation awaited her? Her anxiety spiked as she moved closer to the front of the line, now only one person away from the entrance. The woman directly in front of Eleanor was crying softly, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. Her outfit was particularly infantilizing— She was dressed in a frilly ballerina dress that plumed out at her waist, leaving her entire diaper exposed—a stark reminder of her infantilized state. Her pacifier bobbed as she whimpered, and Eleanor felt a pang of sympathy, even as her own fear threatened to overwhelm her. The woman turned to look at Eleanor, her eyes wide and pleading, but before she could say anything, an attendant stepped forward and gently guided her into the curtained area. “Go on, sweetie,” the attendant said, her voice sickeningly sweet. “It’s your turn for the magic!” Eleanor stood frozen in line, her heart pounding as she watched the crying woman in front of her being led inside. The woman’s sobs were muffled by her pacifier, her shoulders shaking as stood. The attendants guided her gently but firmly, their cheerful voices a stark contrast to the woman’s obvious terror. Eleanor’s stood petrified as the woman disappeared behind the curtains, the bright lights inside casting eerie shadows on the fabric walls. For a moment, there was silence. Then the lights flashed again, brighter this time, accompanied by a faint, cheerful melody that made Eleanor’s skin crawl. She strained to hear what was happening inside, but the music drowned out any other sounds. Her anxiety spiked as she imagined the worst—what were they doing to her? What would they do to her? Suddenly, there was a commotion. One of the side walls of the curtained area burst open, and the woman came stumbling out. Eleanor’s initial reaction was relief—she had escaped! But as the woman turned toward her, Eleanor’s relief turned to horror. The woman’s face wasn’t one of defiance or determination. Instead, she wore an expression of pure, infantile mischief. Her tears had dried, leaving streaks of mascara on her cheeks, but her eyes were wide and glazed over, her mouth stretched into a droopy, mindless smile. She giggled uncontrollably as she toddled around, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated, the frilly ballerina dress bouncing with each step. The attendants chased after her, their laughter mingling with hers as if this were all part of the fun. One of the guards who had been holding Eleanor’s arms—a burly man with a kind smile—let go of her to intercept the woman. He caught her gently in a hug, lifting her off the ground and cooing, “There, there, little one. You’re okay.” He set her down once she had calmed, but the woman’s demeanor didn’t change. She clung to his arm, toddling almost right up to Eleanor before stopping abruptly. Eleanor stared, her stomach twisting as the woman’s face scrunched up in concentration. The woman dropped into a squat, her hands gripping the guard’s arm for support. Her cheeks puffed out, her eyes furrowed, and her face turned red as she strained. A loud fart ripped through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of a mess exploding into her diaper. The smell hit Eleanor like a wave, and she gagged, her horror deepening as the diaper visibly bulged and swelled beneath the woman’s frilly dress. The guard chuckled softly, patting the woman’s back. “Good job, sweetheart!” he said, his voice warm and encouraging. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He led her away, the woman toddling beside him with a vacant smile, the swollen diaper sagging heavily between her legs. Eleanor’s mind reeled. They weren’t just humiliating these adults—somehow, they were regressing them mentally into babies. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, and she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She had to escape, now. With one of her guards distracted, escorting the regressed woman away, Eleanor saw her chance. The pacifier strapped into her mouth had been driving her mad, the rubber nipple pressing against her tongue and the strap digging into the back of her head. She reached up with her free hand, fumbling with the clip until it released. She ripped the pacifier out of her mouth, gasping as fresh air filled her lungs. The relief was immediate, but short-lived—she had no time to savor it. She turned to the remaining guard, a wiry man with his attention cast somewhere else in the tent. Without hesitation, she drove her knee into his groin. He doubled over with a grunt, releasing her arm. Eleanor didn’t wait—she bolted, her heart racing as she tore through the tent. She dodged around stacks of diapers, weaving between changing tables and pastel-clad attendants. She was running in a circle. She needed to find a path past everything to the outside. Then she could get to the road and flag down help. Attendants rushed towards her from multiple direction now. She threw items down behind her as she negotiated through the maze of infantile accoutrements. She wove past a row of changing tables and saw her path to a flap entrance unobstructed. She just had to run now. Just as she reached the edge of the tent, a large man stepped into her path, his arms outstretched. Eleanor tried to dodge, but he was too quick. He grabbed her, his grip like iron, and lifted her off the ground. She kicked and screamed, her voice raw with desperation. “Let me go! Please! You can’t do this!” A woman appeared, holding a syringe filled with a pale pink liquid. Eleanor’s eyes widened in terror as she recognized it—the same sedative they had used on the woman earlier. She thrashed wildly, but the man holding her was too strong. “Shh, sweetie,” the woman said, her voice sickeningly sweet. “This will help you relax.” Eleanor screamed as the needle pierced her skin, the cold liquid flooding her veins. Almost immediately, her limbs grew heavy, her struggles weakening as the world around her began to blur. The last thing she saw was the woman’s smiling face, her voice fading into a distant hum. “Happy Easter, little one.” Then everything went black. Clara and James sat on the bleachers by the open field, the air filled with the cheerful sounds of children’s laughter and the faint hum of the fair in the background. The field was a pastel wonderland, decorated with oversized Easter eggs, towering bunny statues, and clusters of fake flowers. The large regression tent loomed nearby, its cheerful banners fluttering in the breeze. Clara absentmindedly scrolled through the photos on her phone, pausing to show James a particularly cute shot of the two of them posing in front of a giant Easter bunny earlier in the day. James chuckled, leaning back and stretching his arms. “We’ve had such a fun day,” Clara said, her voice tinged with satisfaction. “And it’s about to get even better.” James nodded, though his attention was already drifting to the field. An announcement crackled over the loudspeakers, the voice bright and bubbly. “Attention, everyone! The Easter egg hunt is about to begin! Let’s give a warm welcome to our little ones!” Clara and James put their phones away, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. The “children” began to wander out onto the field, their movements clumsy and exaggerated. Each one wore a comically large nametag pinned to their outfit, bearing infantilized versions of their adult names: “Ellie,” “Tommy,” “Lulu,” and so on. Most of them carried cute baskets, their faces lit up with excitement as they toddled toward the colorful eggs scattered across the grass. The crowd in the bleachers cooed and clapped as the adults-turned-babies made their way into view, their pacifiers bobbing in their mouths or their faces slack with dopey, vacant grins. Clara and James watched with rapt attention, pointing out their favorites. One man, dressed in overalls and a striped shirt, was crawling on all fours, giggling as he chased a rolling egg. Another woman, in a frilly pink dress and bonnet, sat cross-legged in the grass, babbling to a stuffed bunny as she chewed on its ear. A third “child,” a man in a sailor suit, was being carried out by an attendant and laid gently on his back. He kicked his legs in the air, laughing as he rolled around with a set of plastic keys. “Oh, look at that one!” Clara said, pointing to a woman in a light green onesie adorned with tiny embroidered ducklings. She wore matching green booties and a bonnet with a yellow ribbon, her pacifier clipped to the front of her outfit. Unlike the others, she was standing upright, her eyes darting around with a look of growing awareness. Her movements were hesitant, almost cautious, as if she were trying to piece together where she was and what was happening. “She’s adorable,” James said, though his tone shifted as he noticed her expression. “Wait… is she…?” Clara frowned, her eyes narrowing. “She’s fighting it. Look at her—she’s starting to wake up.” Clara waved over an attendant who was patrolling the aisles. The woman, dressed in a pastel uniform with a radio clipped to her chest, approached with a smile. “Everything okay?” she asked. “That one,” Clara said, pointing to the woman in the green onesie. “She’s not fully regressed. She’s starting to figure things out.” The attendant’s smile didn’t waver. “Thanks for letting us know. We’ll take care of it.” She spoke into her radio, her voice calm and professional. “We’ve got a Level 2 regression resistance in Sector 3. Requesting reinforcement.” On the field, the woman in the green onesie was now looking around frantically, her eyes wide with panic. She took a few shaky steps forward, her hands trembling as she reached up to pull the pacifier from her mouth. But before she could act, two attendants appeared at her sides, grabbing her arms and gently but firmly pulling her to the ground. She struggled, her muffled cries drawing the attention of the crowd. Two more attendants arrived, one carrying a basket filled with strange items: a pair of headphones decorated with bunny ears, a vibrator shaped like a carrot, and a phone playing a hypnotic audio track. The woman with the headphones placed them over the struggling woman’s ears, while the other attendant held her head in place. The woman with the vibrator turned it on, its low hum audible even from the bleachers, and began rubbing it against the woman’s diaper. The effect was immediate. The woman’s struggles ceased as her body tensed, her back arching as she let out a loud, involuntary moan. The crowd erupted into laughter, including Clara and James, who watched with a mix of amusement and fascination. The woman’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking as the vibrator worked its magic. Her face flushed, her eyes rolling back as she reached a powerful, shuddering orgasm. The attendants held her steady, the hypnotic audio from the phone drilling into her brain through the headphones. When they finally sat her up, the woman’s expression was completely blank, her mouth slack and drooling. Her eyes were empty, devoid of any awareness or intelligence. She was no longer a toddler—she had been regressed all the way down to an infant. Clara and James laughed, shaking their heads. “Well, she shouldn’t have made such a big stink,” Clara said, her voice light and teasing. “She was doing so well as a toddler, but now she’s just a baby.” James chuckled, wrapping an arm around Clara’s shoulders. “She’ll be happier this way. No more stress, no more worries—just fun and playtime.” As the attendants carried the woman away, her bonnet askew and her onesie damp with drool, Clara and James turned their attention back to the field, where the other “children” were happily hunting for eggs and playing in the grass. The sun shone brightly overhead, and the air was filled with the sounds of laughter and joy. Clara’s eyes lit up as she spotted Eleanor—or rather, Elly—being guided out of the tent by an attendant. Elly was dressed in her yellow ducky shirt, the large nametag “Elly” pinned prominently to the front. Her bonnet was slightly askew, and her pacifier bobbed in her mouth as she toddled uncertainly, her steps wobbly and unsure. The attendant gently deposited Elly on the ground, and after a moment of hesitation, she dropped to her hands and knees, crawling with more confidence. Her eyes, though empty, were wide with curiosity, taking in the colorful field as if everything around her were new and fascinating. Clara squealed with joy, clutching James’s arm. “Look at her! She came out perfect! She looks so happy!” James grinned, waving enthusiastically at Elly. “Hey, Elly! Over here!” But Elly didn’t notice. Instead, she turned her attention to a ladybug crawling on a blade of grass, her head tilting as she watched it with childlike wonder. After a moment, she lost interest and sat back on her diapered butt, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Her clumsy fingers tugged at the fabric, trying to pull it off, but she couldn’t quite manage it. An attendant noticed her struggle and approached with a smile. “Need some help, sweetie?” she cooed, gently pulling the shirt over Elly’s head. Elly’s shapely, round breasts gleamed in the sunlight, but she showed no sign of embarrassment or self-awareness. Instead, she bounced up and down on her diapered butt, her face lit up with relief and joy at being free of the shirt. Drool hung from her lower lip, glistening in the sun as it dripped onto her bare chest. Clara and James watched, their hearts swelling with pride. “The staff did a perfect job with her,” Clara said, her voice soft with admiration. “She’s just so… carefree.” James nodded, snapping a few photos on his phone. “She’s adorable. Look at her go.” He zoomed in on Elly’s face, capturing the drool dripping onto her breasts as she bounced. “We have to send these to Mom and Dad. They’ll get a kick out of seeing her like this.” Clara laughed, taking her own phone out to snap more pictures. “Oh, definitely. And we should post a few on social media. Everyone’s going to love seeing how happy she is.” Elly, now completely nude except for her bulky diaper, crawled toward a circle of other regressed adults who were playing with toys. Her sodden diaper swung heavily between her thighs with each movement, its yellowed bulk sagging lower and lower. Her breasts swayed in rhythm with her crawling, the motion almost hypnotic as she made her way across the grass. Clara and James chuckled, snapping more photos. “Look at her soggy diaper!” Clara said, her voice dripping with affection. “She’s just too cute.” Their attention was briefly pulled away as a commotion erupted across the field. Another woman, clearly resisting her regression, was being forcibly held down by attendants. One of them held a vibrator to her diaper while another adjusted a pair of bunny-eared headphones over her ears. The woman’s moans and cries drew laughter from the crowd, but Clara and James barely noticed. Nearby, a toddler-aged man wandered over to the scene, oblivious to the woman’s struggles. He dropped into a squat, his face scrunching up with effort as he filled his diaper. The crowd erupted into laughter, and Clara and James joined in, their hearts full Clara and James returned their focus to Elly, who had joined the circle of regressed adults and was now happily babbling to a stuffed bunny as well as to the other adult babies. Clara and James laughed as they watched Elly interact with the other “children.” “Look at her,” Clara said, her voice warm with pride. “She’s already making friends.” James nodded, wrapping an arm around Clara’s shoulders. “We’ll have to get some of the parents’ numbers. We can arrange playdates for her.” Clara smiled, leaning into James. “That’s a great idea. She’s going to have so much fun.” As they watched, Elly sat up from her play, her face scrunching up in concentration. Her cheeks puffed out, her eyes furrowed, and her body tensed as she strained. A loud fart ripped through the air, the seat of her diaper bulged as the mess migrate out into her already wet material. The diaper visibly expanded and sagged even further, its contents pressing against the thin plastic lining. Elly’s face relaxed into an expression of pure relief, her mouth slack and drooling as she babbled happily to her new friends. Clara and James laughed, snapping more photos. “She’s just too precious,” Clara said, her voice filled with affection. James nodded, his arm still around Clara’s shoulders. “She’s perfect.” Meanwhile, oblivious to everything sat Elly. Empty eyes wide with childlike wonder as she babbled and drooled, completely unaware of the world around her. The sad melancholic life of her adulthood locked away tightly deep in the recesses of mind. In its stead, was the endless joy of childhood innocence.

This is my very first real foray into ABDL/age regression (had another one, but it went nowhere). Like all of my stories, there are mature themes, and I will warn you when we get to them - even with the content warnings in the tags; I have not led readers astray or lied to them about trigger warnings, and I'm never going to start. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. If you're ready - and still with me - let the story begin: Chapter One: A Girls' Night Out on the Town. - Svetlana Volkova was going to meet her two friends, Tatiana Voronina and Galina Tigrova for a normal Sunday brunch, and she had the feeling it was going to be quite exciting - especially on the day before Halloween. The three women weren’t really anything special, not really. All three were twenty-five-year-old Pittsburgh natives (from Russian parents), athletic, excellent figures (each of them were D cups), and all three were top-notch daycare workers. They had known each other since they were young, since before they could remember. Each of them had mousy-brown hair that they dyed to look prettier, and each of them had piercing icy-blue eyes. Some had confused the three for triplets at first glance. It was fine by them; they were each very much close. Even when they had their fights, it was solved rather quickly and with no hard feelings. Svetlana walked down the sidewalk with a purpose as her Pittsburgh Penguins jersey, knee-length black skirt and purse fluttering in the gusty wind. She brushed her shoulder-length dyed-golden-brown hair away from her eyes as she neared the stop. Tatiana was the first to notice, as she waved and smoothed her Penguins jersey and golden skirt, her shoulder-blade-length dyed-auburn curls noticeable. She nudged Galina, who was busy twirling her navel-length, shockingly-dyed-royal-purple hair before she turned to see her friend and jumped to her feet out of shock (and yes, she too was wearing a Penguins jersey and a golden skirt). The women walked over, hugging each other with gleeful looks on their faces. “Well, you finally came here, Svetka,” Tatiana said with a smirk. “We were beginning to think you had gotten bored.” “Bored? Of you girls? Never!” Svetlana was beaming. “Girl, I can’t remember the last time we haven’t spoken!” Galina exclaimed. “We do this so much, they give us free food.” “And we wear it well,” Tatiana laughed, causing the other two to join in. Svetlana sat down with her two friends. “So, how are things with you?” she all but sang. “Good! Can’t wait for the Pens game; that new swanky bar has the perfect place to watch,” Tatiana said. “You feel like coming, Svetka?” “Of course, Tanya!” the woman said. “I’m surprised we’re going out barhopping, though; we don’t have a car…” “Oh, come on, Svetka,” Galina said. “It’ll be so much fun.” She paused. “The only problem is, we have to bring someone else who can drive us, since our car is in the shop, and the only person we know who’s interested is…” “Celine,” the three said simultaneously, as they all let out annoyed sighs. Celine Fuchs was their old housemate they hated, and the feeling was very much mutual. A nosy busybody three years younger than them, Celine made no secret about having a fiancé to go back home to (it wasn’t that they couldn’t get boyfriends if they wanted; they were just not interested in dates at the moment.), and she critiqued them on every little thing, every miniscule detail, despite the fact that she was a law clerk. It was hell to deal with her. “You going to call her, Svetka?” Tatiana asked. “It’s not like we have a choice,” Svetlana muttered. She opened her smartphone and called Celine’s number. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. “Hello, who is this?” Celine asked in an annoyed tone. “It’s Svetlana.” “Oh, hi, Svetlana. What do you want?” “Tatiana, Galina, and I were going to catch the Pens game tonight at the new bar. Was wondering if you’d come.” “Oh, that would be marvelous!” Celine’s voice entirely changed, sounding genuinely excited. “Well, I’ll have to get ready. You planning on parking? Bringing money for food? What time would be best to leave-” “Don’t worry, Celine, we’re all going in the same car,” Svetlana said calmly. “Might as well bring my car; it’s a new one.” “You sure?” “It’s got multiple seats.” “Okay, fine. We’ll take your car.” “Can I bring my fiancé?” “Sorry. Girls' night out.” “Oh, well, I’ll tell him to go to our house. Where do I pick you three up?” “Right at Market Square. You’ll know us.” “Of course. Have a wonderful day! Go Pens!” Svetlana sighed when Celine hung up on her. Her two friends looked at her. “Guess it’s a go. She’s picking us up in her car.” “Ugh, she always likes to brag,” Tatiana muttered. “Always. It’s a new car, new clothes, new boyfriend, what-fucking-ever, I don’t care.” “She’s so fucking insufferable,” Galina said with a sigh. “I guess riding in her car won’t be the worst thing, right?” “True. It’s only one time, then never again,” Tatiana agreed with much reluctance. “Let’s just go to Market Square and wait; the game starts at 5:00, and it’s already 2:00 PM.” “Agreed.” They finished paying for their brunch and included a generous tip before walking to Market Square (hey, they always could use exercise, even with the various male catcallers), getting there at around 3:00 PM. It was a short wait until a brand-new Honda Odyssey that all but blared that it was Celine’s car pulled up, the aforementioned driver waving at them. “Hellooo!” she called. “You ready!” “Yeah, we are,” Svetlana said. No shit we’re ready, you dumb bitch. We’ve been ready! The three women packed into the backseats, none of them wanting to sit in the front with their annoying old housemate. “Look, I get you don’t like me, but…I do appreciate you bringing me with you to the bar with you,” Celine said politely. Svetlana looked at her younger ex-housemate who had a genuine smile on her face. Celine certainly was fairly attractive, actually, scratch that, definitely attractive with a blonde pixie cut, inquisitive sea-green eyes, and a larger bust than even they had. Tatiana was the only one to break the silence. “Sure, I mean, might as well bring you along; we know how big a fan you are,” she said. “Still, it is appreciated. Still, expect this to be a one-time thing, though.” “The feeling’s quite mutual,” Svetlana said bluntly. If only she knew just how dead wrong her words were. - So, let me know if there's anything I can improve on, anything you liked or disliked, stuff like that~

I’ve been looking for abdls in the Tulsa area to meet. I am a male age 18 and I love to wear diapers. I will do ANYTHING to get diapers. I want to do an abdl meetup in person at some point.

Lake Erie Age Players is Hosting its Age Play Event in April! We will have a Little's Tea Party, Mountains of Legos, Little's Room, Dark Age Playroom, a Pot Luck, Tons of Toys, AB/DL Furniture, and More! Hope to see you all at the event! You can check out our website for more information! https://leapcleveland.com Saturday, April 12, 2025 12:00 PM 5:00 PM Lakeside Dungeon2615 Lakeside Avenue East Cleveland, OH, 44114 United States

Guys, I would like to reveal this work, it is a collab with my friend Abdl_barbie, follow her on Wattpad, I will show you the cover first, I hope you like it, please comment what you think of the writing, if you like it, it is very important If you guys can come here and help me too: Blue Blood, Silk Ties Summary: Prologue: The Kingdom of Gallia had once been a place of legend and promise. The ancients said that there had been a time when justice was balanced, the people had a voice, and the cities flourished with hope. But those times were swallowed up by the rise of the nobility, the return of absolute monarchy, and the rule of the so-called Amazons. Versellieux, the capital, was the mirror of this world of extremes. Its imposing palaces, such as the renovated Palace of Versailles, gleamed under gold and stained glass windows, where the aristocracy gathered for splendid banquets and balls. Vast gardens and marble statues adorned every corner of the city, and luxurious carriages roamed its wide streets. But beyond the golden gates, far from the high ivory towers, lay the real Gallia—the kingdom of the peasants, the Littles, the hungry. In the village of Rochefort-sur-Lac, the reality was quite different. Surrounded by dense forests and a crystal-clear lake, the natural beauty of the place contrasted with the poverty of its inhabitants. The work was hard, the harvests were always insufficient, and opportunities were scarce. The people survived as best they could, and two main ways of ensuring some sustenance were to be found: arranged marriages in which their daughters were sold to the bourgeoisie, and, the most profitable, by giving their sons to the nobles, making them their "Little Babies". Families who accepted this fate received a generous allowance, a temporary comfort, but it came at the cost of separation and the unknown. In the countryside, far from the glitter of Versellieux, stood the Château de Clairciel, home of the influential Maison de Montreuil family. The stone mansion, surrounded by ancient woods and a vast lake, was a monument to tradition and secrets. The patriarch, Louis-Auguste de Montreuil, and his wife, Éléonore de Montreuil, maintained their aristocratic practices and habits with rigidity. Their children, Philippe, the haughty heir, Victoire, the cunning and ambitious, and Geneviève, the youngest and most mysterious, grew up under a regime of refinement and absolute control. Between balls, hunts and whispers in the corridors of the château, the family reigned like titans over Rochefort-sur-Lac. Emilia, a young woman from the village, knew this reality well. A teenager and a mushroom collector, she spent her days in the forest, collecting everything she could sell to help her family. Beside her was Eveline, a stunning beauty, who supported herself by selling handmade necklaces to merchants and travelers. Stephanie, a strong woman marked by life, tried to survive after the recent loss of her husband, counting the coins to support her household. These three women, each with their own pain and dreams, were just a few among many who lived in the shadow of the nobles, trapped in a destiny they did not choose. While Versellieux shone with its luxurious balls and the Château de Clairciel maintained its aura of mystery and oppression, Rochefort-sur-Lac resisted, like a flame about to be suffocated by the wind. But something was about to happen. Emilia could feel it in the air – the wind whispered, the leaves rustled. The world of Gallia wou

Oh nooo! I lost the dare and now I gotta wear my diapy like a wittle baby! 😭💔 I’m a big boy, but I guess I'm also an adult baby who needs my comfy diapy for my potty time! It makes me feel all cozy and safe, just like a baby! 🍼✨ If someone says something, I gotta wear my diapy out in public for a whole 3-4 hours! 😳 Oh no, that’s so scawy! I really, really don’t want to take a picture in a public bathroom with my diapy on! Please, please don’t say anything! I just wanna keep my secret safe and snuggly! 🍼👶 Diapers are super soft and make me feel all warm and happy, but I don’t wanna show everyone! I just wanna be a happy baby in my diapy! Please keep it a secret! 🙈🍼 Thank you!

Hello lovelies. I’m Amberubael and I started this story as a little something for a friend of mine to tailor to their kinks. This is my first story that I’ve written and after some encouragement to share it I thought I’d share as I’m writing it. I hope you find some enjoyment out of this. Please tell me what you think as I post and create. Content warning: This is a darker story. It involves ABDL, kidnapping, NC, mind games, forced mental regression, gaslighting and eventual Stockholm. These are not things I condone in real life as this is purely a fantasy I’m writing out for the enjoyment of my friend and myself. Warning: This is not a fair ending Chapter One: The Date and the letter Alice picked at the broccoli on her plate with her fork, unable to take her mind off of the girl in front of her. This was her first date in quite a while, a few years actually now that she had thought about it. So far this one was going well, she hoped. They had met on an app geared towards the feminine persuasion and the first few matches had been dudes. When she finally stumbled upon her and matched she was already feeling a little something. “You alright there?” Amber asked with a smirk, having taken to holding her own spoon idly between her fingers and balancing with her thumb. Her other hand now held her chin in her hand with a slight cock of the head to the side. “You kind of zone out there for a moment. You were telling me about work?” “Work, right. Sorry.” Alice couldn’t help but apologize as she looked back up, quickly taking another bite of her alfredo before swallowing. “Like I mentioned, it’s nothing exciting. Mostly just some data entry. Occasional meeting with a few people above my paygrade. The “when the company likes to think it’s more important than it really is” kinda thing.” Another swirl of the fettuccine and another bite. “Give yourself some credit. It can’t be easy work.” Alice brought her eyes up to watch Amber again as she took another sip of soup. Those same green eyes briefly met with Amber’s hazels before she looked down to her plate again. “Well, what about yours? You’ve had me talking about myself all night. Tell me about yourself? What hobbies do you like? Or …” She paused, hesitating as this was sometimes a sensitive subject to bring up amongst some people. “... Do you want to tell me your ‘story’ of how you came out?” Emphasis on the word story to drive her curiosity home. Amber couldn’t help but chuckle and gave a gentle shake of her head. Her curly brown hair bounced a little as she shook her head, Alice noted with a little bit of envy. She had complimented her earlier on her hair when they first met up before the date with Amber taking the compliment and just noting she had use a little bit of product and had ‘let her hair do her thing’. Her own blonde hair took quite a bit of work to get it as straight as she liked it, or braided when the mood struck. “You really want that story?” Amber mused, breaking Alice from her thoughts yet again. “Well I came out some years back, well into my adulthood. Maybe…’16 if I remember correctly? Yeah that sound about right.” Another sip of her soup was taken before she continued. “Won’t go into the specifics but it’s the typical girl from the south, growing up as a boy, family who is ultra religious didn’t take it well. You know the story. I grew a backbone and became honest with myself. Havn’t talked much with the family before then.” Alice couldn’t help but frown but before she could voice anything Amber held her hand up to stall her. “Now now. I’m happy, that’s all I worry about. I have my chosen family.” Amber finished her stalling that line of questions before continuing. “I started hormones some years back. Your turn.” “Me? Oh, I've been out for a while too. Better than yours, I suppose.” She hesitated for a moment, cheeks flushing at the comment. “Sorry I didn’t mean...” Amber flashed her hands in a little dismissive gesture. “No no you’re fine.” “Well, what I mean is, I’m thankful I have a family who accepts me. Nothing as exciting as your story.” “Nonsense, everyone’s story is as unique as they are. They’re beautiful, endearing, or inspirational.” Amber smiled warmly to her, which of course, caused her to blush at both the smile and her words. Alice couldn’t help it but feel enamored with Amber’s way with words. Even when they were texting she just seemed to know what to say on how to help Alice feel better, to laugh, or sometimes to even think about the weirdest things. “Trust me, I’m grateful to hear your story.” She had been the one to ask the question and now here she was being… Alice’s mind wandered again, drifting off as they both continued eating for a bit. The conversations were nice and Amber had this warm, almost maternal feeling about her. That suited Alice fine for more than a few reasons. Those reasons she tried not to think about now as it wouldn’t do to dwell and daydream this early in the date or any potential dynamic that may arise. Daydreaming was a scary world sometime, afterall. It was at least a welcome distraction from… “Alice, are you enjoying your alfredo?” Amber asked with an amused expression suddenly. “I… what? Yeah I mean it’s really good, why?” “Because you’re making a mess of yourself, hold still.” Alice furrowed her brows for a moment in confusion before her eyes widened in surprise as Amber grabbed a napkin and reached over the table carefully and gently wiped at the corners of Alice’s mouth suddenly. She had been too stunned to react as the other woman wiped away the excess sauce from her cheeks and chin and could only react with a heavy blush forming across her lips. “O-oh! Uh, thank you!” She stuttered out before looking down to her plate in pure shame that she had made a mess without realizing it… and pure excitement that Amber had done that. Why had she? Not that she actually complained, it was just so unexpected for her. “Of course… Oh, I hope that wasn’t too forward.” Amber stated, a small blush of her own forming as she set the crumpled up napkin to the side. “Sometimes I forget myself and I really do apologize.” “No no!” Alice stated quickly, almost mentally hitting herself for how quick and strongly she reacted just then. “It caught me by surprise, that’s all. It was… nice, actually.” That blush formed again as she looked to her nearly finished plate. “You’re adorable Alice. I’m having a great time and I hope you are too. I hope I haven't been too forward or anything. I get excited and lose myself when I’m with such a cute girl.” Cute girl? If Alice was capable of spontaneous combustion it would probably have happened at this point. Not ‘beautiful woman’ or anything like that. Cute. Girl. Oh how that pushed buttons she wished she didn’t have. “N-no.” She stumbled across her word a little. “You haven’t. I’ve actually had a really nice time and…” Trailing off as the fear of asking to continue seeing Amber so she wasn’t too forward herself. “And? And you’d like to go on another date?” That confident and warm smile returned to Amber’s features as she watched Alice, fiddling that spoon in her fingers again. “Cause if that’s the case, I’d absolutely love that. We could go out again if you’d like, or I could cook for you. It’s something I’ve been getting into recently, if you’d feel comfortable with that?” Amber asked with no small amount of hope in her voice. Alice jerked her gaze back up at that, a bashful and excited smile crossed her features. “Really?! I mean y-yeah I’d like that!” “Good. I’m glad and would love that. We can work details out later… in the meantime…” Amber started again with another set of back and forth questions as tension seemed to release between the two blushing girls. It was nice how their easy conversations online translated into the real world as time went on. With dinner finished and a few glasses of wine between them the stories flowed freely. Soon enough they’d part ways, even getting a nice, gentle hug between the two as they got into their respective rides home. Alice was loath to let the night end but she didn’t want to push too hard too fast. She suspected she’d have gotten in Amber’s ride that night if she was asked and didn’t want to push the other girl much too far on a first date. Now that the night was winding down and her ride home to her apartment was well on the way she safely let her mind wander, imagining all the fun she might have with Amber or what food she might cook. All the little butterflies dancing through her stomach soon turned into a knot of unease as she approached her apartment. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be home, it just meant dealing with the letter. The letter that had arrived a few days ago. A letter that had sent many emotions going through her thoughts. The letter without a return address. A letter that had called her both by her real name and her online name. The letter with so much impact in so few words that had sent Alice spiraling in panic, fear, anger, and finally humiliation. “I know who you are, Little Alice.” Had been the only words on the page beyond her name on the front of the envelope and it being addressed to her online handle. _________________________________________________________________ A week had passed since the date with Amber and Alice’s final decision to throw the letter away. She wouldn’t let whoever this was hold that power over her. Or she thought so, even after making sure she replaced the lock on her door with one that would electronically alert her phone if it was opened. Whoever this was had to just be getting a rise out of her and by the power of Mork and Gork she wouldn’t let them. She kept in contact with Amber through texting, though the communication had been sporadic some days due to their work schedules. That and Alice didn’t want to come off too strong and burn the candle at both ends when she was hoping to get to know her lady friend at the beginning of whatever they were dancing around. They had, at least, started to make plans for their next date. They agreed on Alice’s place and Amber would bring over her cooking materials she needed as well as the food. She had been tight lipped though on what she was making beyond asking if Alice had any allergies. “She’s so considerate…” Alice had mumbled to herself, as she started her routine after a day of work. Grab the mail from the post, check on her cat Angel’s food and water dish, strip from her business attire and settled into her pajamas, before taking a seat at her computer. Setting the mail to the side so she could accept cuddles from Angel’s demanding self. Today was a day to herself and maybe texting her crush a bit in between Overwatch matches. So, that’s just what she did for a few hours. A few win streaks, a couple of losses here and there, and back to pushing her rank back up again. Amber had been quiet for the first bit of it, probably still working or busy she told herself. Thankfully that had been rather brief when she heard the chime of her phone go off. A quick few texts back and forth as she finished up her sessions for the night had definitely brought her mood up from her losses earlier. Finally, though, it was time to adult for a bit. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she needs to actually do something other than steam roll people online. Rising from her chair would be met with a grumbly meow from Angel before she grabbed the stack of mail from nearby to take with her into the kitchen and started to heat up some leftover chinese she had been eyeballing. As she started rummaging through the mail while her food heated she’d frown, as usual, to the bills or junk that got sent to her. Never anything fun! “Junk. Junk. Bill. Ugh my car doesn’t have an extended warranty. Ju-” Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as the final piece of mail sat in her hands. The handwriting. The lack of return address. The stationary used. It was too familiar and it caused panic to swell up inside of her. It was again addressed directly to her and held a single letter inside. With shaking hands she slipped the envelopes’ edges up and pulled the thick stationary out. On it were familiar words, the same as before, but it was as if the whole story was being mailed to her a bit at a time. “I know who you are, Little Alice. Soon you’ll be mine and you’ll love me for it.” She had to steady herself on her feet by bracing the cabinet with a free hand as she started back and forth between the letter and the envelope. The beeping of the microwave caused her to scream and drop the papers from her hands as she lost whatever composure she had at that instant. It was only when the envelope fell face up did she realize the last piece of the puzzle that turned her blood to ice. There was no stamp.

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Turn Greg and Sam had been married for five years, and their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Their relationship was built on mutual respect, trust, and a deep emotional connection. They had always been adventurous in the bedroom, exploring each other's desires and fantasies. But lately, Greg had been feeling a growing urge to surrender to Sam's dominance, He couldn't quite explain it, but the thought of being controlled and guided by his wife sent shivers down his spine. Sam had noticed this on a few occasions in the bedroom and realized the excitement it brought for her. She wanted to push this dynamic further, the thought of it bringing intense arousal. One night as they made love, Greg found himself trying to nudge Sam's head down, hinting that he wanted her to give him oral pleasure. But Sam had other plans. She gently kissed him, her lips brushing against his, and then pushed him down, her hands firm but gentle on his shoulders. Greg felt a surge of excitement as he realized she was taking charge. He complied, his body responding to her touch as he sank down onto the bed. Sam stood on her knees, towering over Greg as he positioned himself on all fours. The room was dimly lit, with only a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with anticipation, and Greg could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sam's eyes locked onto his, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. Without a word, Sam directed Greg's head to her breasts. She cupped them in her hands, offering them to him like a gift. Greg's lips closed around her nipple, and he began to suckle, feeling a sense of comfort and security wash over him. Sam's hands guided his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him in place. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the moment. As they lingered there, Sam's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the curve of Greg's spine. She pushed him down, her touch gentle but insistent, until his face was inches from her vagina. Greg's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she wanted. He felt a thrill of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation, but his desire for her overrode any doubts. Sam's eyes never left his as she began to thrust against him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Greg's tongue danced across her skin, tasting the sweetness of her arousal. He was lost in the sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the scent and feel of her. Time seemed to slow down, and all that existed was the two of them, lost in this intimate dance. As they moved together, Sam's voice whispered in his ear, "Stick your fingers inside me, Greg. Taste me." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he complied, his fingers sliding into her warmth. The sensation was electrifying, and he felt himself becoming even more aroused. But Sam wasn't done yet. She took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, and guided his thumb into her. Greg felt a jolt of surprise, but before he could react, Sam locked eyes with him and pushed his thumb into his mouth. The sensation was shocking, yet strangely erotic. Greg's mind reeled as he sucked his own thumb, the taste of Sam's arousal mingling with his own. As Greg's thumb slid into his mouth, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, one that made him feel vulnerable and exposed. But despite his initial hesitation, he couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that coursed through his veins. He was turned on, and he knew it. Sam seemed to sense his conflicted emotions, and she smiled to herself as she kept his thumb in place. She gently laid him down on his back, her hands guiding him onto the softness of the bed. Greg felt himself sinking into the mattress, his body relaxed and open to her touch. As he lay there, Sam straddled his face, her thighs spreading wide as she positioned herself above him. She began to gyrate, her hips moving in a slow, sensual circle as she rubbed herself against the back of his hand while he sucked his thumb. He mound forcing it into his mouth while he tasted her juice. The sensation was intoxicating, and Greg felt himself becoming lost in the rhythm of her movements. Sam's eyes never left his, her gaze burning with a fierce intensity as she watched him. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he gazed up at her. She knew he was turned on, and she was determined to take him to the edge. As she moved above him, Sam reached down and wrapped her fingers around Greg's cock. She stroked him gently, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "Come for me, baby," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire. "Let go and come for me." Greg felt himself building towards a climax, his body tensing as he strained towards release. And then, in a burst of sensation, he exploded, his semen spilling out onto his stomach as he cried out in pleasure. Sam smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him come. She leaned forward, her body pressing down onto his as she wrapped her arms around him. Greg felt himself being pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, and he let himself relax into her touch. As they lay there, Greg realized that he was still sucking his thumb, the digit still lodged in his mouth. He felt a surge of embarrassment, and he quickly pulled it out, his face flushing with heat. Sam noticed his reaction, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. Greg felt himself blush even deeper, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He knew he was in this now, and he was excited to see where it would lead. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Greg couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. He felt more vulnerable, more open, and more connected to Sam than he had in a long time. And as he looked up at her, he knew that he was ready to explore this new dynamic, to see where it would take them and what secrets they would uncover along the way. Chapter 2: A Night of Reckoning As the days went by, Greg and Sam had repeated the scenario that had started with his thumb a few times, but they had also fallen back into their routine. It was as if they had dipped their toes into a new world, but then retreated back to the comfort of their familiar dynamic. However, the memory of that first night lingered, and Greg couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between them. One night, as they lay in bed after a lovely dinner and a bottle of wine, Greg found himself spooning with Sam, his head resting on her chest. She was looking down at him, her eyes gazing at his peaceful expression. The room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light on their skin. As they lay there, Greg started to nudge his head into Sam's breasts, his lips brushing against her shirt. She smiled to herself, recognizing the subtle cue. She began to tease him, moving her breasts slightly, just out of reach, and then pulling him in closer. The game was on, and Greg's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the sensation. Sam's hands gently pulled her shirt down, exposing her breasts to Greg's eager lips. He latched onto one, sucking gently, and Sam felt a surge of pleasure. She transferred him to the other breast, and as he sucked, she felt his hand moving, his fingers brushing against her skin. She guided his hand down, her fingers intertwining with his, until they reached her vagina. Greg's fingers slid inside her, and Sam felt a wave of excitement. She was already wet, and his touch sent shivers down her spine. As he fingered her, she began to move her hips, her body responding to his touch. The sensation built, and soon she was coming, her body trembling with pleasure. As she came down from her climax, Sam realized that Greg was hard, his erection pressing against her leg. She smiled to herself, feeling a sense of dominance wash over her. She was in control, and he was responding to her every move. With a gentle touch, Sam took Greg's thumb and ran it through her juices, the sticky liquid coating his skin. She then slowly nudged his hand near her breasts, her eyes locked onto his. Greg pretended not to notice, but Sam knew he was aware of her intent. She kept nudging his hand, her touch insistent, until he finally looked up at her with sad eyes. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. Sam's heart swelled with emotion, and she felt a deep connection to Greg. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and kissed his forehead. With a gentle but firm touch, she pushed his thumb into his mouth. Greg's eyes widened, and he started sucking, his lips closing around his thumb. Sam whispered into his ear, "Good boy...such a good boy." Her words sent shivers down his spine, and he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. As he sucked his thumb, Sam reached down and touched his cock through his boxer shorts. The touch was electrifying, and Greg felt himself coming, his semen spilling out into his pants. The sensation was intense, and he was taken aback by the sudden release. Sam was surprised, too, as it had never happened before. Greg's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment as he looked up at her. He pulled his thumb out of his mouth, his eyes downcast. Sam's voice was soothing and mocking at the same time, "Oopsie, so excited you had a little accident! What a good boy you are for me, but someone might need a little protection next time, don't worry, I'll take care of you baby." Greg didn't quite understand what she meant, but he felt a sense of reassurance wash over him. As they lay there, Greg's eyelids began to droop, his body relaxing into sleep. As he fell asleep. Sam slid his hand that was on the pillow back towards his mouth, and in his sleepiness he accepted it, his thumb slipping back into his lips. He fell asleep, his body trusting and vulnerable. Sam looked at him, her heart full of love and affection. She realized how much she loved this new dynamic, this sense of dominance and control. She thought about how she would need to buy some items for him, to help him feel more comfortable and secure in his new role. As she gazed at Greg, she knew that their relationship was about to take a dramatic turn, one that would bring them even closer together. Chapter 3: Morning After Greg woke up to an empty bed, his thumb still lodged in his mouth. As he slowly came to, the events of the previous night flooded back to him. He quickly removed his thumb, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relaxation. He had slept better than he remembered, but the memory of his actions made his face flush with heat. As he sat up, he noticed the dampness between his legs and the slight cold wetness on the bed underneath his crotch, from his "accident" the night before. His embarrassment deepened, and he couldn't help but think about Sam's statement from the night before - "someone might need a little protection next time." He wondered why she had said that, especially since they hadn't used condoms since before they were married. Greg quickly got out of bed and headed to the shower, trying to wash away the lingering feelings of embarrassment. As he stood under the warm water, he couldn't shake off the thought of Sam's words and the way she had looked at him. He felt like he was losing himself in this new dynamic, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. After his shower, Greg made his way to the kitchen, where he found Sam already preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation. As he entered the kitchen, Sam turned around with a bright smile, holding up a plate of Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chips. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chimed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I made your favorite breakfast." Greg's eyes widened as he took in the spread before him. "Wow, you didn't have to go to all that trouble," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sam chuckled and handed him a glass of milk. "I know what my baby likes," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "And I want to make him happy." Greg's face flushed as he took the glass, noticing that Sam had made herself a more adult breakfast - scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, and fruit. "You're not having pancakes?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from himself. Sam smiled and sat down across from him. "No, I think I'll stick to something a bit more... substantial," she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, I know what my baby really likes, and it's not just pancakes." He could tell she was insinuating about the night before. As they ate, Sam couldn't help but tease Greg about his sleepiness. "You were so cute when you were sleeping," she cooed, her voice dripping with affection. "I loved watching you. And I have to say, I was a bit surprised by your... little accident." Greg's face turned bright red as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. "Shh, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to change the subject. But Sam just laughed and reached out to run her thumb across the table over his lips. "It's okay, baby," she said. "It's nice to see you relaxing in new ways." Greg stared at her quizzically wondering why she was doing this? He could see the joy in her eyes. Sam looked at him and mocked putting her thumb in her mouth with fake sucking noise from her pursed lips, and a pouty face, and batted her eyes. Then laughed and winked at him. "You're learning to let go baby, and that's all that matters." Greg felt like he was going to die from embarrassment. He tried to change the subject again, but in his embarrassed haste, he accidentally knocked over his glass of milk, spilling it all over his lap. Sam rushed over to clean up the mess, laughing and reassuring him that it was okay. "Accidents keep happening, don't they?" she said with a wink. "Maybe you're not ready for a big boy cup yet." Greg's face was on fire as he sat there, his pants stained with milk. He felt like a child, and Sam's words only made him feel more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sam," he muttered, trying to apologize. But Sam just smiled and patted his hand. "Don't worry, baby," she said. "I'll figure it out. I'll help you get back into dry pants." Her phrasing made him blush for some reason. As they finished their breakfast, Greg couldn't help but think about how different Sam had been treating him lately. She was more playful, more affectionate, and more... dominant. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this new dynamic, but a part of him was excited to see where it would lead. As they finished their meal, Sam leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was thinking about how to push her plan to the next level, how to help Greg surrender to his desires and become the submissive partner she knew he could be. And as she looked at him, she smiled to herself, knowing that she had already made significant progress. The question was, how far would he be willing to go? Chapter 4: Surrender A few days had passed since Sam had received the mysterious packages, and Greg had no idea what was in store for him. That night, as they sat on the couch watching the fire, Sam was wearing a luxurious silk bathrobe, while Greg was dressed in a pair of childish pajamas that seemed to foreshadow the events that were about to unfold. They had shared a couple of glasses of wine, and the conversation had slowed down, with Greg eventually laying his head down on Sam's lap. As the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Sam's lap washed over him, Greg felt his eyelids growing heavy. But Sam had other plans. She slowly began to work his hand towards his mouth, her fingers gently guiding his. Greg resisted at first, knowing what she was trying to do, but Sam was insistent. She rubbed his crotch through his pajamas, the touch waking him up with arousal. "Come on, baby," she whispered, her voice trying to stay calm but loaded with desire. "Just relax. It's okay." Greg tried to hold strong, but a part of him wanted to give in. He was torn between his desire to surrender and his fear of what this meant for their relationship. As he looked up at Sam, he saw the determination in her eyes, and he knew he was no match for her. Tears began to form in his eyes as he felt himself weakening. Sam's fingers were like a gentle vice, guiding his hand towards his mouth. He shook his head, trying to resist, but Sam just nodded hers, her eyes locked onto his. "It's okay, baby," she cooed. "Everything will be alright. Just trust me." With a sob, Greg gave in, his thumb slipping into his mouth. Instantly, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him, as if he had finally surrendered to a desire he had been fighting for so long. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "You're so good, baby," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you." As Greg sucked his thumb, Sam maneuvered his head into her crotch, her silk bathrobe parting to reveal her nakedness. Greg's eyes widened as he realized she wasn't wearing any panties, and his face burned with embarrassment. Sam's pushed off the couch so he was kneeling in front of her on the floor, her hands guided his head, pushing him into her extremely wet crotch, her pussy pressing against the back of his hand. For minutes, Greg sucked his thumb, his body frozen in a mix of shame and desire. Sam's hands stroked his hair, her voice whispering words of encouragement. "Do you want to taste it, good boy?" she asked, her voice husky with desire. Greg looked up at her, his eyes sad and tear-filled. He nodded, his face burning with embarrassment. Sam's fingers guided his thumb into her vagina, pulling it out and letting him suck again. She repeated this process several times, each time pushing Greg further into his submission. Finally, she let him eat her out, his mouth sucking away at her pussy as she came in a huge orgasm. Greg's face was buried in her crotch, she returned his thumb to his mouth as, as he felt her body shudder with pleasure. When she was done, Sam leaned back, her chest heaving with exertion. "Are you ready for yours, baby?" she asked, her voice seemed to gain new excitement. Greg looked up at her, his eyes still sad, but he nodded. Sam smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. Sam sounding like a child on Christmas morning said, "I bought something for you! I've noticed how you've been deciding to relax, I think this will help you." She pulled out a large white pacifier, an exact replica of a babies binky but bigger, from her pocket, and Greg's eyes widened in shock. "No, Sam, please," he whispered, trying to reject it. But Sam just shook her head and made an "Ssh" sign over her mouth. He looked in awe as she moved the binky down between her legs and pressed the pacifier into her pussy coating it with her juices. She quickly forced it in Greg's mouth. He tried to resist with his lips, but she persisted and cooed, "Be my good boy for me baby. Make me happy seeing you relax." Greg didn't know what to do and finally accepted it with a pouty look. He immediately started sucking the same as his thumb he was now used to. his face red and mind reeling with embarrassment and shame, the familiar taste of her juices calmed him. Sam led him to the bedroom, stripping him down as they went. "My baby seems more excited than ever," she cooed, her eyes glinting with amusement. Greg was ready for intercourse, but instead, Sam went to the closet and pulled out a pair of childish underpants with designs on them. He couldn't believe there was more to this. When had she bought these things? How long had she been planning this? Greg's embarrassment had never been higher, and he felt like he was going to cry looking at the garmet. "I don't want any accidents, baby," Sam said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "You need to wear these to protect yourself." "No sam, this is too much" he tried to say from behind the pacifier, weakly attempting to stand. She pushed him back down, readjusting the pacifier and said. "Please baby, you need this, just enjoy yourself." He could tell from her voice how much she wanted him to follow through... he laid back consenting. She couldn't believe it, her heart raced with the realization that he would allow this. Greg's face burned with shame as Sam pulled the underwear up, the fabric feeling different, more padded than normal underwear. He had a new shock realizing that these were like the potty training underwear kids wear, designed for people who can't make it to a toilet. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red. Sam rubbed his crotch, her fingers sending shivers down his spine. "You're such a good boy," she cooed. "I'm so proud of you." It only took seconds for Greg to come in his pants, the sensation of the underwear and Sam's touch sending him over the edge. Sam praised him, her voice whispering words of encouragement as she laid with him, holding him close. Greg feeling extremely tired now, moved to pull out the pacifier. Sam brushed his hand away and spooned with him, she moved her hand up to the binky gently holding it in place. Greg glanced at her realizing he wanted him to keep it in. He was too tired to think through her intentions or put up any fight and his eyelids drooped. As Greg fell asleep, the pacifier still in his mouth, rhythmically sucking, Sam thought about how amazing this felt. She had never felt so in control, so dominant. And as she looked at Greg, she knew that she could go further, push him even deeper into his submission. The question was, how far would he be willing to go?

AB/DL Diaper Bag Packing List Going to your first AB/DL event? Starting your adventure of trying diapers 24/7? A diapered road trip? This article is what I would have liked to know when I started my adventure. This list is what I consider to be the bare necessities. Starting of the list… the diaper bag… it wouldn’t be a diaper bag list if you didn’t have a bag! A standard backpack with three main pouches, and side pockets on either side for a drink or bottle is my ideal bag. I personally have two bags… one for regular public use which is just a black military style pack and one for ABDL events and conventions that is covered in ABDL and other fetish affiliated pins, badges, and patches. Now that we have the bag we need to pack it. Starting off my advice is to pack things in the likelihood that you are going to need them, so I always pack my spare change of clothes. Jeans, shirt, socks, diaper cover in the bottom in the bag in the main pouch. Trust me, you would rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them. Next is diapers and boosters… if the bag has a laptop pouch, I like to put two of each in this section, so they are a quick and easy grab. It is up to you if you need it more or less. I also like to add a pack of diaper disposable bags in the same section of my diapers. Northshore is who I recommend for these. Their packs are small and deodorizing. The last item I place in the main pouch is my diaper changing mat. The mat isn’t always usable in all situations like in a toilet stall, but I like using it over the toilet to place my changing supplies and keeping a barrier between my stuff and a public toilet. (Just make sure you wipe it down with disinfectant wipes when you are done. Moving on from the main pouch of the bag and focusing on the outside of the bag. I always carry my water bottle on my public bag or a bottle or sippy bottle on my dominant hand side of the bag. In the front exterior bag this is where you want to carry your changing supplies, so you are not fishing around looking for them. I recommend investing in small bottles or going the easier route and getting several small travel sized bottles that you can just refill. If diapers are a sexual thing for you and you are planning on being active don’t forget to pack lube and protection! The last thing I always pack in my diaper bag is my noise cancelling headphones, a handheld gaming device, (I like rocking my old 90s Gameboy with Pokémon yellow as a conversation starter at events), a deck of playing cards or a Yugioh deck if I know others will have them, and an activity book and pencils. I hope you find this list and guide helpful to you. This is obviously not the only way to pack your bag or what you may need, but this is a good starting point. Make this check list your own! Happy Padded Life to All – J.p. Diaper Bag Check List o Diapers x2 o Boosters x2 o Changing Mat o Changing Supplies o Powder o Lotion o Baby Oil o Disinfectant wipes o Wipes o Lube o Condoms o Protection o Discreet Disposable bags o Deodorizer o Spare pair of jeans o Socks o Diaper cover o Spare shirt/onesie o Headphones o Gaming device/stimuli o Paci o Bottle Diaper Bag Packing List.pdf

Such a big group! Where is everyone located? Any in Houston? We travel often and always looking for new friends!

Hi everyone, this story is based on an RPG adventure I created. I'm creating an RPG system. I'll talk about it soon, but all the sections I created will be in a document. You can access them at this link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ohfvIm2g2SAu0UVZANYQptS1TVVUxmp7DGG5OtetDfM/edit?usp=sharing As usual, comment on what you think of the story. If you have any knowledge of LitRPG, you can help me. PROLOGUE Arcadia Institute had always been a place shrouded in mystery. Located in a secluded area surrounded by dense forests and mountains, the renowned boarding school was synonymous with academic excellence and strict discipline. It was a competitive place, where every student carried the weight of expectations from powerful parents. But there was something more to Arcadia, something that was never openly spoken about. Stacy was new here. The daughter of successful executives, accustomed to a life of comfort, she had never had to compete for her place before. With her crisp white shirt, red skirt, red vest, and blue tie, she felt uncomfortably out of place. Her friends called her “melted butter,” but she wanted to prove that she was more than that. Maybe Arcadia was the perfect opportunity. On the first day, as Stacy walked into the sunlit classroom, she tried to control her nervousness. “Hi, I’m Stacy, nice to meet you,” she said with a hesitant smile. A few heads looked up; others barely noticed. The first two periods were literature classes, and although Stacy loved the discussions, she was too tense to make conversation with her classmates. The boarding school was impressive, consisting of a spacious cafeteria, single-sex dormitories, a gymnasium, and several modern classrooms. But what really caught her attention were the large outdoor spaces, with perfect gardens and study areas. It was a beautiful place, but it hid something strange. As she walked down the hallway to put away her supplies, Stacy bumped into another student and accidentally spilled her water bottle. "Oh, crap!" the now wet girl exclaimed as she tried to clean her uniform. Before Stacy could apologize, the student gave her a glare and stomped off. In the middle of the incident, another student approached. She was short, with short hair and a mischievous expression. "You really don't know what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" the stranger said. "What do you mean?" Stacy asked, confused. "The girl you got wet... you don't recognize her?" "I have no idea who she is." "Then good luck. Your nightmare is now called Mia," the girl continued, with a nervous laugh. "She loves to abuse authority. She likes to turn girls like you into babies." "Wait... what?" Stacy frowned. "What do you mean 'babies'?" The other student, who introduced herself as Nery, immediately realized she had said too much and quickly walked away. "Turn them into babies? Is this some kind of joke?" Stacy thought. But something was off. In the hallway, she saw a student with a skirt slightly shorter than the standard uniform, revealing something unusual: what looked like... a diaper? And it wasn't just one student. Several girls had the same detail. Stacy shook her head in disbelief. "This can't be serious." Later that day, as she passed the bathroom, she heard voices. Inside, she saw the same girl who had gotten wet trying to dry her uniform with paper towels, furious. "She's going to pay for it," the girl muttered. Stacy heard enough to know that something was about to happen. Later, as she walked through the empty hallways, Mia appeared, blocking her path. With light brown hair and a spotless uniform, Mia looked like something out of a magazine. It was clear that she was the "queen bee" of the place, the center of attention and power. “You must be the new girl, Stacy, right?” Mia said, her smile not reaching her eyes. “Hi, Mia. It seems you already know who I am.” “Sure. I know everything about everyone here. And I know you owe me an apology.” “Why? Because of the water?” Stacy crossed her arms. “It was an accident.” “It doesn’t matter. I make the rules here. Everyone walks as I say.” Mia stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “And if you don’t toe the line, well…” She tilted her head, her eyes predatory. “You’re my baby.” Stacy took a step back, but Mia grabbed her skirt, trying to lift it like a child’s. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Stacy firmly pushed Mia’s hands away. “You’ve got attitude, I like that. But don’t kid yourself.” Soon, you’ll understand who’s in charge here. Stacy gave her a cold smile and walked away. “Try as you will, Mia. You won’t succeed.” As she walked away, she could feel Mia’s icy gaze on her back. She knew she had just made an enemy. But she also knew something else: Arcadia was much more than a competitive boarding school. There was something dark going on here, and Stacy was determined to find out what it was

Rachel Meets Baby Jason Jason's heart raced as he heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. He was trapped, a prisoner in his own home. Or, more accurately, a baby in a highchair. The chair's plastic tray was smeared with a concoction that looked suspiciously like pureed peas, and a bib with cartoon animals stared back at him from his chest. This was his punishment for stealing diapers from his baby cousin's stash, a punishment devised by his ever-so-clever stepmother, Lisa. He had thought it was a harmless desire, something that he couldn’t not do, something he didn’t understand. But as he sat there, dressed in a frilly onesie with a giant "I'M THE BABY" emblazoned on the front, he realized the error of his ways. The clacking of high heels grew louder as Lisa's friend approached the room, but it sounded like she wasn’t alone. "Surprise!" she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the scene. "Oh, Jason, you look so... adorable!" The woman, Rachel, was tall and slender, with auburn hair that fell in waves around her shoulders. She had an air of confidence about her that Jason found both intimidating and alluring. Rachel leaned down, her nose wrinkling slightly at the smell of baby food. "What's the occasion for the little getup?" Lisa, her arms folded across her chest, beamed with pride at her handiwork. "It's all part of his punishment," she explained, gesturing to the bowl of mashed peas. "If he's going to act like a baby, he's going to be treated like one. Isn't that right, sweetie?" She patted Jason's head, her voice sticky with forced affection. Rachel's eyes widened, and she struggled to suppress a laugh. Jason felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as Rachel studied him. "Mommy says I have to stay like this until I learn my lesson," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pacifier that filled his mouth. Rachel's laughter finally bubbled over, and she clapped her hands together. "Oh, this is too much," she gasped, wiping a tear from her eye. "What did you do to deserve this?" Lisa stepped closer to Rachel, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "He stole diapers from his little cousin," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Rachel's laughter grew louder, and she had to lean against the wall for support. "Stealing diapers?" she managed to choke out between giggles. "What on earth for?" Jason's face was now the color of a ripe tomato. He desperately wished he could shrink down to the size of the plastic spoon that rested in the bowl of peas. Lisa egged him on, her hand playfully poking his side. "Go on, tell Rachel why you wanted to try on your cousin's diapers," she said, her tone a mix of mockery and challenge. Jason looked at her pleadingly, his eyes wide with mortification. The last thing he wanted to do was confess his strange curiosity to Rachel, who was now staring at him with a mix of amusement and bewilderment. With a heavy sigh, he mumbled his answer around the pacifier. Rachel leaned in closer to hear, her curiosity piqued. "What's that?" she asked, a smirk playing on her lips. "Speak up, baby," Lisa said, her eyes gleaming. Jason swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and spat out the words. "I... I wanted to see what it felt like," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Rachel's laughter grew even louder, and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from bursting out. Lisa, however, remained unfazed, her smile never faltering. "Oh, you poor little thing," she cooed, stroking his cheek. "You wanted to be a baby so badly, didn't you?" The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally rolled down Jason's cheeks, and Rachel had to look away to keep from laughing in his face. "Don't worry, baby boy," Lisa continued, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "We're going to make sure you get exactly what you wanted." Rachel nodded in agreement, still giggling. Feeling utterly humiliated, Jason's eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out. But with his limbs secured in the highchair and his mouth filled with the bulky pacifier, he was utterly at their mercy. He knew that any protests or pleas for leniency would only fuel their amusement. So he sat there, his body tense and his mind racing, trying to think of a way to escape this nightmare. "Rachel, why don't you help me give our little baby boy his bottle?" Lisa suggested, holding out a bottle filled with a murky liquid. Rachel took it with a wink, her laughter subsiding to a series of snickers. "But of course," she said, twisting the cap off with a flourish. "Come on, little one, let's see if you can handle this." She approached the highchair, holding the bottle to his lips. Jason clamped his mouth shut around the pacifier, his eyes flashing with defiance. Rachel raised an eyebrow at Lisa, who simply shrugged and said, "Sometimes babies need a little encouragement." Before he could protest, Rachel's finger found the pacifier's strap and yanked it from his mouth. He opened his mouth to argue, but she was too quick. The bottle's rubber nipple was pushed between his teeth, and he had no choice but to take a sip. The taste was sweet and thick, and he realized with horror that it was chocolate milk - his favorite, but now a tool of his torment. Rachel used her friend hand to admire his onesie and bib. "Aw, is baby not happy with his outfit?" Rachel teased, her eyes sparkling as she reached over to poke at his diaper. Jason's cheeks burned even hotter as Rachel's fingers danced over the buttons that held the garment in place. "Let's see what kind of diaper our little man has on, shall we?" Rachel's voice was playful, but Jason could hear the hint of challenge in it. He squirmed in the chair, trying to push her hands away, but she was stronger than he expected. With surprising dexterity, Rachel unbuttoned the onesie, revealing the bulky, babyish diaper that swelled beneath it. "Oh, my goodness," Rachel exclaimed, her eyes widening. "It's not just any diaper, it looks like an oversized Pampers!" Rachel couldn't believe it. The diaper was indeed a massive version of the kind babies wore, complete with the same blue and white branding. "It's like they took a baby diaper and stretched it to fit an adult," she said, her voice filled with wonder. Jason's mortification grew with each passing second as Rachel inspected his diaper, poking and prodding it as if he weren't even there. "It's so... thick," she mused, her voice filled with mirth. "Let's check if it's wet," Lisa suggested with a wink, reaching down to give the diaper a firm pat. Jason's face turned scarlet with humiliation, his body stiffening in the chair. Rachel couldn't resist the urge to join in, her hand also landing on the bulky padding. "He’s dry," she announced with a giggle. "For now," she added, her eyes meeting Jason's in a teasing gaze. The implication was clear; they had every intention of seeing the diaper in action. While Jason continued to suckle on his bottle, Rachel's questions came rapid-fire. "How did this all start?" she asked, her eyes dancing with amusement as she watched him. “You caught him redhanded and then what?” Lisa leaned back against the kitchen counter, her own laughter subsiding to a warm smile. "Well," she began, "I caught him sneaking into his cousin's room. He swore it was just one time, lying to me, because when we got home, I found that he had a whole stash of diapers hidden under his bed." Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "He's been acting out like this for a while, so I figured it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine." "So you just... decided to start treating him like a baby?" Rachel inquired, her voice a mix of incredulity and fascination. "Exactly," Lisa replied, nodding sagely. "He's always wanted to wear them, so I figured, why not let him experience the full package?" Rachel couldn't help but chuckle at the pun, her eyes never leaving Jason's red, teary-eyed face. "What kind of things do you make him do?" she asked, her curiosity growing by the second. Lisa launched into a detailed description of Jason's new regime, her voice filled with pride. "Well, it started with the basics," she said, ticking off the items on her fingers. "He wears diapers 24/7, of course. And we have a strict feeding schedule, mostly baby food and formula." Rachel nodded, her eyes wide as she listened to the extent of Jason's punishment. "But it's not all about the food," Lisa continued. "I started with getting him a diaper bag, he was being a brat at the store about it so I got him a carseat as well.” “Oh my!” Rachel giggled. “A diaper bag, car seat and this highchair… what’s next, a crib?” She laughed some more. “Oh, we have a whole nursery set up for him," Rachel leaned in closer, eager to hear more. “The changing table is necessary for his diaper changes and you should see how cute he is sleeping in his crib.” “What?!” Rachel was flabbergasted “I can’t wait to see it!” "And what about... other baby-related activities?" Rachel's voice was low, her gaze flicking to the bulging diaper and back up to Lisa's face. "Oh, yes," Lisa said with a wink. "Naptime is mandatory. And if he has an accident, well, that's what the diapers are for and for Mommy to change." She paused, watching Rachel's reaction. "But the best part is the little games we play to help him understand his new role. Like peekaboo, and playing with baby toys." Rachel couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Jason, a grown man, playing with rattles and teether rings. "So, does he actually use them?" Rachel's eyes sparkled with mischief as she asked the question. "Use them?" Jason's eyes grew wide with horror, realizing what she was getting at. "You mean, like, his diapers and does he go in them?" Rachel nodded, her expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Of course," Lisa said with a smug smile. "It's all part of the experience." Rachel looked at Jason, then back at Lisa. "Does that mean..." Rachel trailed off, her voice filled with anticipation. "Yes," Lisa said, her smile widening. "If baby Jason needs to go potty, he goes in his diaper, just like a real baby." Jason's face contorted in a silent scream as Rachel's eyes lit up. "So, when does he get a diaper change?" Rachel's voice was filled with genuine curiosity. "Whenever he wets or soils himself," Lisa replied, her tone matter-of-fact. Rachel's eyebrows shot up once again. "And you actually change him?" she asked, her voice a mix of incredulity and amusement. “like, you said you did, but what about…” "Of course," Lisa said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "It's all part of the punishment. And let me tell you, it's quite a sight to see him squirm and whine while I clean him up like a little baby." Rachel leaned in closer, her eyes still wide. "Can I watch?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. In that moment, Jason felt a strange warmth spread across his lower body, the realization of his predicament finally sinking in. He had never actually worn a diaper before he spent a few weeks building up his stash, and the sensation was overwhelming. He had always been curious, but now that he was in the thick of it, the reality was much more humiliating than he had ever imagined. The plastic tray of the highchair was sticky with the remnants of his earlier "meal," and the smell of baby food lingered in the air, a constant reminder of his new status in the house. With a dramatic flourish, Lisa unbuckled the highchair's restraints and lifted Jason into the air. "Time for a diaper check," she said in a high-pitched baby voice, causing Rachel to giggle. He kicked his legs in protest, but Lisa held him firmly, her arms strong from years of dealing with unruly toddlers. "Looks like someone had an accident," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. Rachel gasped in feigned surprise, her eyes never leaving the bulging diaper. "Oh no, baby Jason," she cooed. "It's time for a fresh diaper!" As Rachel watched, Lisa carried him down the hallway to his bedroom, which had been transformed into a nursery. The walls were adorned with babyish cartoons, and a large crib with bars took up most of the space. Rachel followed closely behind, her eyes taking in the sight of Jason's humiliation. The room was equipped with a changing table, complete with baby wipes, powder, and an assortment of colorful diapers. Rachel couldn't believe that this was happening, that she was about to witness a grown man being changed like a baby. Lisa laid Jason down on the changing table, his legs still kicking in protest. She made a tsk-tsk sound as she began to untape the soggy diaper. "Now, now, baby boy," she scolded. "You need to hold still for Mommy." Rachel leaned against the crib, her eyes glued to the spectacle. Jason's face was beet-red with embarrassment as his stepmom's friend watched him being exposed in such a degrading manner. Rachel couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity, but the novelty and absurdity of the situation quickly overwhelmed any empathy. "Wow, Lisa," Rachel said, her voice filled with awe as she scanned the nursery. "You really went all out." She picked up a bottle of diaper rash cream from the changing table and read the label aloud. "For delicate baby skin. I can't imagine what you'd need this for." Rachel's laughter was light and airy, bouncing off the pastel walls. Lisa smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she pulled out a pack of oversized baby wipes. "These are for when he's extra messy," she explained, her voice filled with the same playfulness that had been present since Rachel's arrival. Rachel's gaze took in the crib, the mobile hanging above it playing a lullaby, and the plush toys scattered on the floor. "It's like you had him a baby shower and got most things you need," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. A wicked glint appeared in Lisa's eyes. "You know," she said, her tone growing more serious, "that's not a bad idea." Rachel's eyes lit up, catching on to her friend's train of thought. "A baby shower," Rachel murmured, a smirk playing on her lips as she picked up a pastel blue streamer. "For baby Jason." "Exactly!" Lisa clapped her hands together. "We can invite all of our friends over, and they can see for themselves what a little stinker he's been." Rachel nodded, her mind racing with possibilities. "We'll have games," Lisa continued, her voice rising with excitement. "Like pin the tail on the donkey, but with a twist - pin the diaper on the baby!" Rachel couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation growing more apparent. They spent the next few minutes brainstorming, their voices bouncing off the nursery walls. "We could have a guess-how-many-pacifiers guessing game," Rachel suggested, holding up a jar filled with something unidentifiable. "Or better yet, a diaper-changing relay!" Lisa's laugh was like a peal of bells, her eyes shining with mischief. "Oh, and don't forget the baby food taste test," she added. Rachel nodded eagerly, her mind racing with the delicious prospect of watching Jason squirm. "But the pièce de résistance," Lisa said, her eyes gleaming, "will be the grand finale." Rachel leaned in, eager to hear the details. "We'll have a baby beauty pageant," she announced. "With Jason as the star contestant." Rachel gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle another laugh. "He'll have to strut his stuff in the most ridiculous baby outfits we can find," Lisa went on, her imagination clearly in overdrive. "And the grand finale?" Rachel prompted. "The grand finale," Lisa said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "will be the honor baby Jason smashing his birthday cake in front of all of the guests!" Rachel's laughter echoed through the room as the two women shared a look of pure delight. The idea was absurd, humiliating, and absolutely perfect for teaching Jason a lesson he'd never forget. But as they continued to plan the ultimate baby shower-themed punishment, Jason lay on the changing table, his diaper open and his dignity in tatters. He knew that no matter how much he protested or begged, there was no escaping this new reality. The high-pitched giggles of Rachel and the smug satisfaction of Lisa were the only sounds that filled his world, a constant reminder that he was now, for all intents and purposes, their baby to care for - and to torment - as they saw fit. And as they chattered away, discussing the most embarrassing possible scenarios for his upcoming shower, Jason couldn't help but whimper softly, his eyes wide with shock. "Ah, ah, ah," Lisa scolded, her voice still playfully sweet. "What's the matter, baby? Can't handle the excitement?" Rachel stepped closer, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Maybe you need your pacifier back," she suggested, her smile filled with mock concern. Before he could even try to protest, Rachel's nimble fingers had plucked the pacifier from the nearby shelf, popping it into his mouth. The rubbery object filled his mouth, muffling any sound he might make, leaving him looking even more like the baby they had turned him into. With the two of them standing over him, Jason felt utterly powerless, his body exposed and vulnerable. Rachel took one of the oversized baby wipes from the package and began to gently wipe his skin clean, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the humiliating situation. "Look at baby Jason," Rachel cooed, her voice filled with forced innocence. "Isn't he just the cutest little thing?" Lisa cooed, snapping a photo with her phone, which she had propped up against the wall. The flash went off, blinding Jason momentarily and capturing his embarrassment for eternity. "Peekaboo!" Rachel said, playfully covering her face with a wipe before peeking out again. "Where's baby Jason?" She leaned over him, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she slowly removed the dirty diaper. The cold air of the room hit his bare skin, making him shiver. Rachel leaned in closer, her eyes locked on his. "There you are!" she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched and babyish. Despite his mortification, Jason couldn't help but feel a strange sense of submission to the role they had cast him in. Lisa chuckled from the corner of the room, watching the scene unfold. She picked up a jar of baby powder and began to shake it over him, the fine white dust cascading down like a gentle snowfall. Rachel giggled as she helped to spread it over his skin, the two of them working in unison like a pair of twisted nurses attending to a very unwilling patient. The feeling of the powder against his skin was foreign and uncomfortable, but Jason found himself oddly aroused by the sensation. He couldn't believe that something so degrading could stir feelings of excitement within him. As Rachel continued to clean him up, Jason's mind raced with thoughts of his friends finding out about his new role. The very idea of their reactions was enough to make him cringe, and yet, a part of him felt a strange thrill at the thought of being the center of attention. The diaper change was thorough, with Rachel paying special attention to every crevice and fold, her touch lingering in places it shouldn't. Despite his best efforts to think of something, anything else, Jason felt his body betray him as he began to grow hard. He squirmed under Rachel's gaze, trying to hide his growing arousal with a look of feigned indifference. Rachel's eyes danced with amusement as she noticed his discomfort. "Someone's a little excited, aren't they?" she teased, her voice sugary sweet. Lisa looked over from her spot by the door, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. "You'd better not be enjoying this," she scolded, but the glint in her eye suggested she knew full well that he was. The idea came to Rachel like a bolt of lightning. "Hey, Lisa," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if we had him do, you know, other… baby things?" Lisa was a bit surprised by Rachel’s vague suggestion, “What do you mean?” “Well,” Rachel said, a bit flustered, “do you ever bounce him on your knee, like, you know, when he’s ‘excited’?” Lisa's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh, Rachel," she said, shaking her head. "You're a genius." She turned to Jason, her smile wicked. "You like being a baby so much, huh?" She leaned closer to him, her voice a sweet, syrupy whisper. "Why don't you sit on Rachel's lap and bounce like a good little boy?" Jason's face grew hot with a mix of anger and arousal. Rachel looked at him with a mischievous grin, her eyes gleaming with excitement. He knew she could see the bulge in his diaper, and the thought of her knowing his secret filled him with a strange mix of dread and pleasure. Rachel sat down in the rocking chair that had been placed in the corner of the nursery, her arms outstretched. "Come on, baby," she cooed. "Bounce on Aunt Rachel's knee." Reluctantly, Jason climbed off the changing table, the diaper still gaping open. He shuffled over to Rachel, his legs awkwardly trying to walk in the bulky garment. Rachel took his arms and pulled him down onto her knee, his legs straddling her thigh. He could feel the heat from her body through the thick padding of his diaper, and it only made his situation more unbearable. Rachel began to bounce him gently, her movements sending shockwaves through his body. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but his body responded in ways he couldn't control. Lisa circled around them, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Rachel's teasing. "Looks like baby Jason loves his fresh diaper," she cooed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Rachel nodded, her smile widening. "Yes, he's such a good boy," Rachel said, her eyes never leaving Jason's. "Aren't you, baby?" Jason's eyes darted to the floor, unable to meet their gazes. The pacifier bobbed in his mouth as he nodded slightly. "You're not even fighting it," Rachel pointed out, her voice filled with delight. "It's like you really want to be a baby." Lisa stepped closer, her hands on her hips. "Is that true, Jason?" she asked, her voice a syrupy sweet taunt. "Do you love wearing diapers?" Rachel's gentle bounces grew a little more exaggerated, and Jason felt his cheeks burn even hotter. He tried to shake his head, but Rachel's firm grip on his arms kept him in place as he went up and down. "Wa wa," he mumbled, the words barely audible through the pacifier. Rachel's eyes lit up. "Does that mean no?" she asked, her voice a playful sing-song. "Or maybe it means yes?" She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Say it," she whispered. "Tell us you love your diapers." Lisa watched with a smirk, her arms folded over her chest. "Come on, Jason," she coaxed, her voice a blend of mock sweetness and firm authority. "Use your baby voice. Tell us how much you enjoy being in diapers." Rachel's grip tightened, her bounces becoming more deliberate, sending Jason's body jolting up and down. The pressure on his crotch was unbearable, and the humiliation was almost too much to take. Jason whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut. Rachel leaned in, her voice a gentle whisper in his ear. "Say it, baby," she urged. "Tell us how much you love your diaper." He felt his face scrunch up, his cheeks burning as he tried to resist the urge to give in. But the feeling was too intense, his body betraying him. With a pathetic, muffled "wa wa," he nodded again. Rachel's eyes widened with victory, and she squealed with delight. "Did you hear that, Lisa?" Rachel exclaimed. "He loves his diapers!" Lisa's smile grew even wider as she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to pat his head. "Good boy," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. Rachel's bouncing grew more vigorous, her laughter filling the room as Jason squirmed in her grasp. He felt his body reacting more than ever before, and the realization of his own enjoyment only served to increase his humiliation. "Look how much he loves it," Rachel said, her voice filled with a strange mix of pity and excitement. "It's like he's in baby heaven." She leaned back in the chair, her eyes locked on Jason's, watching his reaction as she continued to bounce him. His eyes grew glassy, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back his own moans of pleasure. Rachel's grip on him tightened, her fingers digging into his thighs as she rocked him faster and faster. "Say it again," she urged. "Tell us how much you love being our little baby." Jason's cheeks were scarlet, his eyes pleading for them to stop. But Rachel's playful taunts were too much to resist. He opened his mouth, the pacifier slipping out slightly. "I love diapers," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Rachel's laughter grew louder, her grip on him tightening even further. "Say it louder," she encouraged, her eyes sparkling. "Let everyone hear you." With a tremble in his voice, Jason repeated his confession, this time with more conviction. "I love diapers! I love being a baby!" Rachel squealed with joy, her hands clapping together as if he had said the most adorable thing she had ever heard. "Oh, baby Jason," she cooed, her voice filled with mock affection. "You're such a good boy for telling us." Lisa stepped closer, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "See, Rachel," she said with a knowing smile. "I told you he'd come around." Her words had barely left her mouth when Jason felt it - the most intense wave of pleasure he had ever experienced. His body spasmed in Rachel's arms, his eyes squeezed shut as the orgasm ripped through him. Rachel's eyes went wide, her bouncing coming to a sudden halt as she realized what was happening. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and awe. "He's actually coming in his diaper." Lisa's laugh grew even louder, a wicked cackle that seemed to echo through the nursery. "See?" she exclaimed, her hand coming down to give Jason's diaper-covered bottom a playful smack. "I told you he'd “come” around." Rachel couldn't believe her eyes as she watched Jason's body shudder with pleasure. She had never seen anything quite so absurd - or arousing - in all her life. Her own thoughts were racing, trying to ignore the sudden warmth that had pooled between her legs. Rachel felt a bead of sweat trickle down her neck as she held him, his body still quivering from the climax she had unwittingly induced. She knew it was wrong to find this situation exciting, but something about the power dynamics, the sheer absurdity of it all, was turning her on more than she cared to admit. Rachel's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, a strange cocktail of arousal and pity. But before she could process the implications of what had just happened, Lisa's voice cut through the air, her laughter subsiding into a knowing chuckle. "Well, Rachel," she said, patting Jason's diapered bottom with a firm hand, "it seems like you're a natural at this." Rachel felt a blush creep up her neck, her eyes darting to meet Lisa's, which were gleaming with amusement. "Why don't you go grab him a bottle?" she suggested, nodding toward the plastic playpen that held an assortment of baby paraphernalia. "It's almost naptime, and baby Jason needs his milk." Rachel took a moment to compose herself before rising from the rocking chair, her legs feeling a bit wobbly. She walked over to the playpen and picked out a bottle with a cartoon character on the front, her hands shaking slightly as she unscrewed the top and filled it with formula. She knew that the sight of him drinking from a bottle would be almost too much to handle, but she was committed to this twisted game. "Here you go, baby Jason," Rachel said with a smirk, handing him the bottle. Jason's face was still flushed from his orgasm, his eyes wide with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. Rachel watched as he took the bottle, his mouth forming an 'o' around the rubbery nipple. He took a tentative sip, the formula cool against his parched throat. Rachel and Lisa both giggled as they watched him, feeling a strange sense of power as they reduced him to this helpless, baby-like state. As the minutes ticked by, Jason's eyes grew heavy. The warmth of Rachel's body, the gentle sway of her movements, and the comfort of the pacifier in his mouth all lulled him into a doze. Rachel felt his body go slack against hers, the bottle slipping from his grasp. She glanced over at Lisa, who nodded with a knowing smile. They had done it. They had broken him. Rachel felt a strange sense of pride at the sight of him, so utterly dependent on them, so thoroughly humiliated. They carefully stood up, Jason's limp form still straddling Rachel's leg. His eyelids fluttered open briefly before closing again, his breathing even and deep. "Let's put baby to bed," Lisa whispered, her voice filled with satisfaction. Rachel nodded, her heart racing with excitement. They had won. They walked over to the crib, Rachel supporting him under his arms while Lisa patted his diapered bottom to encourage him to wake up enough to climb in. "Come on, baby boy," she cooed, her voice a sweet symphony of mockery. "It's time for your nap in your crib." With a sleepy groan, Jason opened his eyes and took in the sight of the bars being pulled up around him. Rachel watched with a mix of fascination and revulsion as Lisa tucked him in, pulling the blankets up to his chin and placing the pacifier back between his lips. He looked so small, so helpless, swaddled in the crib. Rachel felt a strange thrill at the power they held over him, the ability to reduce him to this state with nothing more than a few well-placed words and a bit of embarrassment. "So," Rachel said, her voice low and conspiratorial as they stepped out of the nursery. "Are you actually serious about the baby shower?" Lisa's eyes gleamed with mischief as she leaned against the door frame, watching Jason's chest rise and fall with the rhythm of his baby-like snores. "As a heart attack," she said with a wink. "It'll be the talk of the town." Rachel's laughter bubbled up, a delightful sound that filled the hallway. "Oh, the looks on everyone's faces when they see him like the baby he truly is." She gestured towards the crib with the diapered prize inside. The two women stepped into the living room, leaving the door to the nursery open a crack so they could still hear his muffled noises. "But seriously," Rachel said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "you're not just going to keep him like this forever, right?" Lisa's smile didn't waver. "Well, not forever," she conceded. "But for as long as he needs to learn his lesson." Rachel nodded, a wicked grin playing on her lips. "And it's not like it's all bad," she added, her eyes glancing towards the crib again. "It's kind of... fun." "Let's get planning, then." Rachel mischievously smiled.

Intro: This story is about Madeline and Margot's mother, Margot a teenager the size of a child when she is suspended from school and sent to a nursery, but this story is much bigger than that. One of the best stories I've written, it's lost in an account that I lost. I found a copy and improved it. Enjoy. Note author: I am very happy to post this story, it is very special to me. Quick notices, criticisms welcome, questions. My English has improved a little but it is not good because it is not my mother tongue. Can you give me advice on where to improve? Chapter 01 - Not Everything is Forever Madeline gripped the steering wheel tightly as the car's speedometer ticked at a dangerous speed. Her face was serious, but anger and concern were mixed in her eyes. She muttered as she swerved past other cars. "Get out of the way!" she said impatiently. She pulled away abruptly from the chaotic traffic as soon as she saw the gates of Belmonte School. The imposing building of modern architecture, with its elegant lines and sophisticated details, reflected the prestige of a place destined for the elite. The main entrance boasted a white stone path flanked by impeccable gardens. Madeline parked abruptly and jumped out of the car. Her shoes echoed on the shiny floor as she walked through the wide corridors of the school, surrounded by yellow, red and silver lockers, which gave a vibrant air to the environment. She quickened her pace, ignoring the curious looks of the students who passed by. When she reached the waiting bench outside the director’s office, she sat down with a heavy sigh. Despite what she considered to be a basic outfit—dress pants and a black blazer—Madeline exuded an imposing presence. Her years in the FBI had taught her that plain appearances often masked inner strength. Suddenly, the director’s door opened, and a short, elegant woman strode out with a sigh. Her elegant clothes and proud posture bespoke her social standing. Suddenly, the principal’s door opened, and a short, elegant woman came out with a huff. Her elegant clothes and haughty posture betrayed her social status. “Do something, Shepard!” the woman ordered before disappearing down the hallway. Madeline recognized her immediately. “Elizabeth…” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. She didn’t have much time to process the scene, because Principal Shepard, a short, somewhat overweight man with disheveled hair, appeared in the doorway. "Come in, Ms. Madeline." Madeline stood and walked into the room. The room was well-appointed but stuffy, with a dark wooden table in the center. Shepard gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing, crossing her arms. "Hello, why did you ask me here?" she asked bluntly. Shepard looked uncomfortable, shuffling the papers in front of her as if trying to summon the courage to speak. "Something about your daughter, Margot. She got into a fight with another student... Ms. Elizabeth's daughter, to be more specific." Madeline arched an eyebrow but remained silent. Shepard continued: "The situation is serious, and... well... considering the circumstances, I will need to take severe action. I am considering expelling her." The words made Madeline's blood boil, but she kept her cool. "Have you heard my daughter's side?" she asked firmly. Shepard swallowed hard. "You see, I haven't had time yet..." Madeline took a step forward, her eyes shining with authority. "What do you mean you want to expel her without hearing what she has to say? Do you think I look stupid?" Shepard choked, clearly intimidated. "Madam Madeline, I..." "Then let me speak to her now." Her voice was a command, not a suggestion. Shepard sighed in defeat and left the room to fetch Margot. Madeline drummed her fingers on her leg and tapped her feet on the floor, an old habit that betrayed her anxiety. Despite her controlled posture, her mind was in turmoil. She knew the behind-the-scenes of that school well. The impeccable facade hid a constant power game, where money and influence were the only currencies that mattered. Shepard, the headmaster himself, was a living example of this. He was manipulated by anyone with enough resources, and Elizabeth had more than enough to ensure that things always went her way. When the door opened, Madeline looked up. Margot entered the room with slow steps, her eyes still red and puffy from crying. Despite that, her daughter was beautiful, with her straight blond hair falling over her shoulders and a face that exuded sweetness. Margot was 14 years old, but her petite frame made her seem much younger. Before Madeline could even say anything, Margot ran to hug her, burying her face in her mother's blazer. "I'm sorry, Mom... I didn't mean to come to this." Her voice was weak, but full of guilt. Madeline grabbed her daughter's shoulders and leaned in to look into her eyes. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, using the affectionate nickname that always made her feel safe. Margot took a deep breath, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Well... my friends and I have been getting bullied by Amelia for a long time. She mistreats everyone, especially my friends, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to fix it." Madeline blinked in surprise, but held back her initial reaction. "Sweetie, I know it was hard, but solving this with violence isn't the right way. You could have come to me or the principal." Margot lowered her head, clenching her fists in anger. "What would be the point? Shepard is bought!" Madeline was silent for a moment. She knew well the kind of game that was going on here, but hearing it from her own daughter brought a different weight. "Margot... why do you think that?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity. Margot looked up, determined. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly unlocked it. "Because I proved it. Look at this." She showed the screen to Madeline, who carefully read the email exchange between Shepard and Elizabeth. The director had been paid $500 to hush up an incident involving Amelia. Madeline pressed her lips together, holding back the explosion of anger that threatened to escape. "This is serious." She handed the phone back, taking a deep breath. "But... how did you manage to do this?" Margot hesitated, but soon answered with a slight smile. "Auntie taught me some tricks." Madeline frowned. She knew exactly who Margot was referring to: her sister, an experienced hacker who loved to teach her niece her "arts." That was something to deal with later. "Margot, this is serious. It's important evidence, but people are going to need more than an email to believe it." Margot nodded, as if she had been expecting that question. "I have something else, Mom." She swiped to the next file on her phone and opened a video from the school's security camera. Madeline watched with increasing attention. In the video, Amelia was seen pushing one of Margot's friends against the lockers, laughing and throwing water at her while saying, "Look, the baby's wet!" Other girls laughed in the background, while Amelia continued to mock the girl, who tried unsuccessfully to compose herself. Madeline felt her blood boil. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to keep herself in check. When she opened them again, her expression was pure ice. "Shepard will listen to me now." She put Margot's phone in her bag and held her daughter's hand. "Stay here, sweetie. This will be taken care of." Madeline stared at Shepard, her piercing gaze making the man sweat under the fluorescent lighting of the room. He tried to maintain his composure, but his hands shook slightly as he held a glass of water. "Well, let's get this out of the way," Shepard began, his tone uncertain. "I didn't want to kick your daughter out, but..." "But what, exactly?" Madeline interrupted, leaning forward slightly, her voice cold as steel. "How do you intend to justify expelling my daughter when your school is the scene of systematic bullying and active complicity?" Shepard swallowed, trying to hide her discomfort. "I don't know what you're talking about." Madeline smiled, but it was a sharp smile, without any trace of humor. She pulled her cell phone from her bag and opened the video. "You don't know? Then let me refresh your memory." She pressed play, and the room fell silent as the video showed Amelia shoving and mocking Margot's friend. The humiliation was evident, and Shepard looked away, uncomfortable. "Now," Madeline said, pausing the video, "no hushing up this case. No excuses. No bribes." Shepard began to sweat even more. "Look... I... I'm going to take this case to the board." Madeline arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Are you going to take it to the council? Why don't you just say you intend to hush it up? Wouldn't that be easier?" Shepard stood up, visibly shaken, and took a sip of water. "I... I'm going to take this to the state council. We'll sort it out there." Madeline tilted her head, watching him like a predator sizing up its prey. "Good. Because if you don't, I will. And you know damn well my version of the facts will be more convincing." Shepard nodded nervously, his voice almost cracking. "I'll be there. But..." He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, trying to regain some control. "Your daughter is suspended. And I don't want to see her here until further notice. Now, please leave." Madeline stared at him for a moment longer, her hands tightly clenched into fists. But she knew the damage was done. Shepard was cornered, and the next move would be hers. "Very well. See you soon, Shepard." She walked out of the room with firm steps and found Margot waiting on the aisle seat. The girl stood up immediately, but her worried expression was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw her mother's expression. "Come on, sweetie," Madeline said, holding out her hand to Margot. In the car, Madeline took a deep breath before explaining. "You're suspended, Margot. Shepard wants to use that as an excuse while he tries to protect his own skin." Margot huffed, crossing her arms. "I get suspended, and Amelia gets to go free? That's not fair!" Madeline placed a hand on the steering wheel, her fingers gripping the leather. "I know it's not fair. But trust me, sweetie. It's not going to stay that way." The rest of the drive was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived home, Margot got out of the car without another word, quickly climbing the stairs to her room and slamming the door behind her. Madeline sat in the car for a few moments, her head resting against the back of the seat. This case went far beyond Margot. The school was a bomb of trouble waiting to explode, and if Shepard thought he could escape it, he seriously underestimated who he was dealing with.

As with my other articles, I have attached the PDF document with pictures to this article. Let me know if you have any questions Building an AB/DL Crib This is my AB/DL crib build. A few things I want to address before I go forward because I have gotten feedback on some of some of my other designs from individuals that do not seem to understand what my designs are intended to be… I have created a design the requires the bare minimum knowledge, skills, and tools and I am releasing all my designs completely free. If you have opinions of how to make it better or things you do not like about the design, then I suggest you design your own nursery furniture set and give it away to the community as I have. I have a full woodshop and space and can design something far more complicated with joinery, engravings, etc. But that is not the intention of my work or these designs. This is so any ABDL with $500 - $750 can build a crib of their own. So please understand that and be respectful. Now, with that out of the way, this crib features a swinging gate rather than the slide rail. Although there are several ways to accomplish a lift up gate design when I did my original research on the crib I looked into and talked to several other AB/DL that I knew have cribs and there were several struggles with it for all of them and although I know I could engineer a design that would work the cost and difficulty of the build would go up in that sort of implementation, which defeats the whole point of making this crib design simple and as uncomplicated as possible. I personally have built this crib in a twin size, double size and in a queen size. I have a friend that also built her crib entirely on my design off just pictures and my CapCon presentation, so this is very doable. The crib utilizes a steel curtain bedframe that costs on average $200 from amazon and is rated for 700 lbs. You will not need to modify the frame, so the integrity is 700 lbs., and the completed rails weigh less than 70 lbs. Another benefit of this crib design is that it is fourteen inches off the ground, which is perfectly suited for storing packs of diapers underneath the crib. I also personally used to underbed Rubbermaid tubs, one for loose diapers and the other is used for booster packs. Installed under glow LED lights both above and below the crib and I hung a TV inside the crib on the footer with a Nintendo switch hooked up as well. The lumber I used for this build was simple construction lumber from Home Depot. I own a planer and so I ran all the wood through the planer to keep the costs to a minimum, but friends who have built this design substituted lumber from alternative sources that was of nicer quality that did not require that step. All of that is not necessary, but they are options you could implement if you decide to build the crib. That being said… on to the build! Note: Although the bedframe advertises that a box spring is not needed to achieve the proper crib height, I highly recommend investing in a box spring. I thrifted for one myself. Parts List · Bed Frame file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image004.jpg Amazon.com: ZINUS Patricia Black Metal Canopy Platform Bed Frame, Mattress Foundation with Steel Slat Support, No Box Spring Needed, Easy Assembly, Full : Everything Else · 52 x 1x2 8-foot pine strip (Rails and Gate) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image006.jpg · 12 x 1x4 8-foot pine strip corners and bottom base boards) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image008.jpg · 2 x 2x3 8-foot pine strip (Width top rails) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image010.jpg · 2 x 1x1 8-foot pine strip (Long Top rails) Hardware · 100 x 3/4 in wood working screws. · 100 x 1 in wood working screws. · 100 x 1 1/4 in wood working screws. · 12 x 3-inch corner brace (These are used to hold the crib rails to the bed frame) · Utility Pull handle (Gate handle) · 3 x 3 in narrow utility hinge (For gate) · Locking gate clasp (My crib is lockable but there are a variety of options to secure the gate closed) · 4 x 2 in corner brace (Used to strengthen the gate frame) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image012.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image014.jpg (Above samples of some of the hardware I used to build the crib. I did not use everything pictured but I did list everything that I used) Tools Required · Saw · Drill · Phillips head drive bit · 1/4-inch counter sunk bit (These are great for predrilling holes that will counter sink for the screws. · Measuring tape · Cloth measuring tape. · Several spring clamps in varying sizes (I purchased a lot at harbor fright Recommend at least eight of the largest size and 6 - 8 of the medium size. The more you have the easier some of this is) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image016.jpg For this build I cannot give direct measurements for cuts because I do not know what size crib you will being, and I did not keep records when I built two of the three cribs. But the build is very straight forward. (Important: You should pre-drill and countersink every single screw. Also, it is especially important to make sure you do not over drive or screw and make sure you select the appropriately sized screw, so it does not come out the other side. I believe on average the shorter screws work best on the lower rails and the longer screws work best on the upper rails, but that is something you will need to access and decide on as you are working. Step 1. Build the bed frame All your measurements will need to go off the bedframe, so the first step is to build the bedframe. I recommend not installing the mattress slats as it will make moving around in the crib easier. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image018.jpg Step 2. Building the top rails Cut the 2 2x3 boards so that they run the full length above the Header and footer of the frame. They need to be flushed against the metal so the rails can connect. Next measure the distance length wise between the header and footer and then cut the 2 1x1 boards so that the entire top of the crib has the four boards sitting atop of the upper rails. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image020.jpg Step 3. Cutting the Lower rails Using four of the 1x4 boards you need to cut lower boards for the header, footer and lengthwise. These boards should be inside of the corners and flush against the bottom rails. Use the medium clamps to secure them in place. (Note: The Header is shorter I placed the board on the second rail from the bottom as pictured below) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image022.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image024.jpg Step 4. Cutting and Enclosing the Crib frames Using eight of the 1x4 boards you need to measure from the top rail down to the bottom rails and cut the boards. Next, I suggest using clamps and doing one side at a time you are going to create a “Picture Frame” by screwing the side boards to the upper and lowers. Repeat this on all four sides. See pictures below for examples. (Note: See in the photo below of how the two corners meet. This is important to do the same) file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image026.jpg file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image028.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image030.jpg Step 5. The Rails Now the fun begins! First you need to decide where you want to place the gate. So, you need to know which side of the crib will be against a wall etc. and make sure the there will not be obstacles stopping the gate from swinging open. Once that is decided I recommend doing the Header, Footer and then the Lengthwise not gate side rails first. This process is repeated so it is not too technical. First, cut the rails so that they will extend the length from the top rail to the bottom. (Remember: The Header is shorter so do not cut all your rails to the header length) I personally hate math and did not try and figure out the perfect spacing to make them all exactly equal. What I did and recommend if you do not want to do that either is to find the exact center and your will start by placing one rail directly in the middle. Then using the cloth measuring tape you will measure four inches from the end of the middle and place a rail. Repeat that step until there is less than 8 inches from the end and place that final rail in the middle. Depending on the size of the crib you are building, that spacing will be roughly 3+ inches and is not very noticeable and will look like a feature. I am going off memory, but I believe the queen and Double crib sizes have the same number of rails on each side nine on the header and footer and thirteen on the non-gate side. The length side is the same process as the header and footer… just longer. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image032.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image034.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image036.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image038.jpg Step 6. Rails on the Gate Side As mentioned in Step 5 you need to know what side you want the crib gate to open. In this example the gate is on the left side and swings open to the right. This is something you will have to figure out for yourself but is not too complicated. How I started the gate side is exactly how I did all the other rail sides. I first found the middle and I installed a rail in that spot. I then installed rails on the non-opening side. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image040.jpg Step 7: Installing the Gate Hinge file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image042.jpgTaking one of 1x2 rail pieces you need to place them perpendicular to the middle rail. This rail should be cut short so that it is under the top rail (Note: See in the image the example. Figure out where you want the three hinges to be. I personally cut and recessed my hinges. Some hinges do not need to be done this way, but I thought it looked better doing it that way.) Place your hinges and cut an Identical rail to match up to the opposite side of the hinge, but do not secure it. Step 8: Completing the Gate A way to make creating the gate easy is to first figure out the length of the upper and lower of the gate and cut those two pieces. Then using the clamps and measuring tape, measure out four inches and secure the first rail of the gate, then the second, third etc. This will give the gate rigidity for you to use the four corner braces to finish off the gate. Using a scrap piece of rail place the piece at the end on top of the 1x4 corner piece so that the gate can rest flush. On this piece install your gate lock or latch. Install the gate handle at the end of the gate. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image044.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image046.jpg file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image048.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image050.jpg file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image052.jpg Step 9: Stain or Paint At this point you should have four completed crib sides. Take each side off, sand, prime or prep, and either paint or stain the rails as to the look you prefer. I personally think stain is easier and looks nicer, but I have friends that painted their cribs as well. (Note: If you do decide to stain make sure you add a protective coat of Polyurethane or some other finish) Step 10: Final installation file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image054.jpgI recommend putting the box spring and mattress on the bed frame before you even begin to put on the rails for the last time, but you can technically wait until putting on one lengthwise rail. Once you have all four rails on you are going to use the twelve 4-inch corner braces. I just eyeballed their placement, but there will be three on each corner. One at the top, middle, and bottom. These braces will effectively hold the four sides in place and the top bars, thanks to gravity, will keep everything secure. I hope you found these crib building instructions helpful and straightforward. Below are several other examples of buildings by me and my friends. If you have any questions, please message me on my socials or through my email at babyleprechauncreations@gmail.com file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image056.jpg file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image058.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image060.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image062.jpg Building an ABDL Crib.pdf

Before reading this... yes, I'm aware the images aren't there. I attached a PDF that contains them. Also... unlike many of my builds for the changing table there are better options in my opinion that would not require DIY modifications. I have added one such model as an example at the end of the article. I hope this helps! Baby Jp Building an AB/DL Changing Table file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image002.jpg Recommendation: Although this build worked out for me, I would not repeat this build and would not recommend it unless you already had one of these massage tables and wanted to convert it into a changing table. There are several options on amazon that are the same product, and the cost of the table is the same it all the labor materials and time it would take to build this table. Parts List · Massage Table file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image004.png Amazon.com: BestMassage Massage Table Portable Massage Bed Lash Bed 2 Fold SPA Table 24 inch Wide Adjustable Salon Bed with Non-Woven Bag for Spa Footmassage Facial CareSpa Tattoo : Beauty & Personal Care · 2 x 8’ 4x4 Pine lumber · 1x1 inch popular square dowel · 2 x 1/4-inch-thick sheets of MDF · 4 x Cube storage containers file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image006.jpg Amazon.com - DECOMOMO Storage Baskets, 13x15x13 Storage Cube Bins with Labels for Organizing Shelves Kallax (Kallax / 4pcs, Black) · 4 x 2” x 8’ Pine boards · Pack of one inch carpentry screws Tools Required · Router with a 1/4 inch cutting bit. · Drill · Basic hand tools (To disassemble the Table) · Saw Starting off, this build can be completed without any DIY or modifications depending on what massage table you select to be your starting project. I produced this build concept after attending CapCon for the first time and saw that all the changing rooms had a foldable massage table to be used as a changing table. It was such a brilliant idea for me that I decided to buy one as we were driving home. That being said… if I were to do it all over again, I would not have gotten the table that I purchased. I am incredibly happy with it now after the modifications I made, but I had purchased the cheapest table available on Amazon. It had skinny wooden adjustable legs and never felt very solid unlike the ones at CapCon. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image008.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image010.jpg Improving the table was easy enough. I removed the original legs by unscrewing the single screw that secured each leg and then I cut six 4x4 pine posts to my desired leg height. I then marked where the 1x1 inch legs had been on each of the posts and then using a router I removed a two inch long by 1 inch channel in each post so that it would match up with the leg slots. I then glued in the one-inch dowel rod. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image012.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image014.jpg To add an under shelf and to add more stability to the legs I cut a 1/4-inch groove using the router in each of the posts on the left and right and two on the two middle posts so that I could slide two MDF sheets between them to act as shelves. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image016.jpg Lastly, I added a strip of the 2-inch boards, one at the point of the shelf and the second at the top just below the tabletop. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image018.jpgfile:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image020.jpg My recommendation to someone looking to have a changing table of their own is to purchase a better quality and designed massage table. You could potentially find a rock-solid table and just put shelves underneath it or even simply slide a shelving unit under the table rather than having to build it. file:///C:/Users/DarkS/AppData/Local/Temp/msohtmlclip1/01/clip_image022.jpg Amazon.com: PayLessHere Massage Table Lash Bed 2 Fold Spa Bed 74”Lx28“W PU Leather Massage Bed Height Adjustable Massage Bed Heavy Duty Stationary Spa Table Salon Facial Cradle Bed : Beauty & Personal Care Building an ABDL Changing Table.pdf

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