Search the Community

A/N: IMPORTANT TO NOTICE Hey all! I hope you're all doing well! Do not worry! I am still working on my other stories but had started this a while ago and felt like I should post it! Just a warning in the beginning that this story will contain a lot of non-con, sexual content and humiliation. If this makes you uncomfortable than I suggest you don't read it! I love seeing comments so I'd love to see everyone's comments! ooOoo Summary: When a young new independent journalist decides to write about something other than the typical run of the mill stories, she is introduced into a new life, just not in the way she expected. ooOoo Chapter 1: MommyslittleBiggurls.com 22 December 2021 Hello Friends! It sure has been a while! I hope you’re all doing well on this frosty morning. Here in Montana, we’re certainly going to have a white Christmas. Sugar and Cookie sure are excited to see Santa and have been extra careful to be good girls; always asking for the potty like good little girls, eating all of their veggies at dinner and making sure to drink all of their babas full of yummy milk! I’m sure you all are experiencing the same with your little ones at the moment, even the disobedient can’t ignore the happy cheer of Christmas. I really can’t believe it’s only been three months since we first adopted our newest little girl, Honey! Of course with new littles, it’s always an adventure and Sugar and Cookie are being the best big sisters they can be! It can be hard, especially around the holidays to deal with an un-regressed, naughty little so that brings me to the topic of today’s post: Punishments. If you're like me or are a new caregiver, it’s never easy training a new little and before they can be our sweet little babies, they will be literal demons! It is never fun but in order to nip that naughty behavior in the bum, punishment is required and it is not always as simple as quick spanking. Listed below, you will find three different punishments to try if you, like me, were at a loss. Punishments: Punishment 1: Corner time with a twist Depending on the severity of the naughty behavior, instruct your little one it's corner time for a certain amount of time. While many, if not all, will just find this incredibly boring and whine, there is a small twist. Listen carefully to these five steps: Take littles’ clothes away (that means no diapers/pullups/or undies as well!), Give a nice soapy cold enema to their bum-bum and insert a buttplug to ensure no dribbles Administer a firm spanking (I’ve found different objects such as a belt or hairbrush to be most effective!) Little will bend down or kneel in the corner with their bum-bum high in the air for everyone to see After a certain amount of time, if the little has not moved from their position, you will instruct the little to tell you what they did wrong and have them beg to release their bodily functions. If you are unsatisfied with their response, even more minutes will be added to corner time Punishment 2: Potty Time with Horsy Let’s get real, we’ve all struggled with littles refusing to go potty in their diapers or on the training toilet and it’s a pain to have to insert enemas and suppositories into screaming littles. That’s how I came up with horsy time. The rocking horse, while meant to be an object of amusement during playtime, can just as quickly be turned into an object of torture. What you need to do is listed below: The little will sit on the rocking horse in only their bottoms, whether that be a diaper or pull-up Place earphones on little and set to the wet diaper hypnosis Instruct the little to rock back and forth and do not stop no matter what and not to mess or wet themselves Plan a certain amount of time and come back when the time is up If the little is still rocking and is dry, they have earned the privilege to go potty. If not, horsy time is extended and the dirty diaper stays on another several hours The constant rhythmic motion combined with hypnosis at the same timing will put the littles right in the mood to have to relieve themselves. How they do it will no longer matter. The added pressure to keep a constant rocking in order to avoid further punishment will take a heavy toll on their mind as well and increase the need for positive behavior. Punishment 3: No Playtime with Teddy If you choose to allow your little to have any sexual release, this punishment can have a rewarding effect. As a human race, we are sexual beings but not everyone deserves or should have such an experience. Littles have gotten it into their minds that they should be allowed to have such experiences, but what do they know? They’re just littles. It is our job as caretakers to instruct and control their urges. If we leave them to their own devices, who knows what will happen? My little girls are allowed one play session a week with Mr. Teddy Bear to release all of their icky cummies by the hand of mommy and daddy. While Rosie and Cookie know being a good girl will lead to happy feelings, Honey is still learning. Orgasm and cum denial or “the tickles and ice cream dance” as we call it, are an excellent way to assert dominance and make them quickly realize who the real grownups are and who is in charge. Mittens or restraints are a must for untrained littles! You never know where their wandering hands will end up! Chastity belts are also a great device, especially if they get a little too excited during playtime and try humping (which is extremely discouraged!) IMPORTANT: It is important to enforce anything sexual is not allowed without the approval, observation, and act by grown-ups because you never know when littles might accidentally injure themselves! I hope you all enjoyed my little list and hopefully it helps you on your journey to having a regressed little! It may seem tough at times but we’ve all gone through it before (I currently am!) Stay tuned for next time and meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas! Love, Mommy Bree ooOoo The sound of the ding signaling the post had been successfully posted was a happy feeling to say the least. Unknown outside the world of ageplay, Bree Hawthorne was as famous as could be within the community. With over ten thousand followers and readers, people tuned in from all over the world to read about their simple little family. Being a blogger on top of a mommy had become her full time job and she didn’t regret a single second of it. She always knew she wanted to have a family and her love for blogging couldn’t have been a more perfect combination. There were so many who envied to fill the role of a Hawthorne little but only so few could actually meet the requirements. That’s why they had taken to unique means of obtaining their little girls. Kidnapping was a bit too harsh a term. They preferred adoption. Did the public need to know that? No. Would they ever find out? Probably not. Looking around outside the large glass windows, the only view for miles was farmland with snow capped mountains in the background. Bloomington, Montana was the perfect place to go to if one didn’t want to be found. They had the freedom to be who they were without any nosey neighbors disrupting their lives. Her husband, coming from old money, allowed them to own lavish homes around the country, buy the newest high-tech adult-baby equipment and pay off those they needed to stay quiet. Everything was as it should be. Everything would soon be perfect. They were our babydolls. Sugar, Cookie, Honey and- “Another post?” Jasper. At the sound of his deep voice, she spun around in the swivel chair. Face to face with her blonde, strong-jawed, blue eyed handsome husband. He was everything she dreamed of in a man. Strong, smart, caring, loyal. A great daddy to their three wonderful girls. What more could a person ask of a spouse? “Yes. I’ve finished just in time for… lunch!” she exclaimed, glancing at the time and shutting down the macbook. “Today’s post was about punishments and I gave the best examples of Honey. How is she doing this morning actually? The baby monitor on her end has been awfully quiet.” she asked, having been in the office the entire morning working. “Sleeping.” was his only response, scowling with his hand over his face. “Do I want to know what happened?” “No.” It was always a struggle to tame the girl and her rebellious behavior and silly dreams. Most often then not her bum was black and blue, littered with marks and bruises. How a five foot, one-hundred-twenty pound girl with not an ounce of body fat had managed to give them this much a fight, they did not know. While the little blonde fought they pushed back just as hard. She would break eventually. They all do. “Sugar and Cookie are in the playpen writing letters to Santa,” that made them crack a smile. “I can feed them while you handle, Honey? I may just take her over my knee again and that’s not what she needs at the moment.” Bree reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck as his face burrowed into her kinky black hair, placing a trail of kisses upon her chocolate colored skin. “So it’s my turn to play the bad mommy,” she mused. “Precisely.” her husband cracked a smile. “It feels so much longer than three months since we got her. Remember?” Oh, how could they forget…

Virtue follows the lives of several women raised in a restrictive cult which forces it’s female members to wear and use diapers. Some characters resist this form of control, some embrace it, and others seek to use it to their advantage. 18+. This story will contain elements of coercion, brainwashing, and misogyny. There will be no incest but there will be family dynamics that would be reprehensible in real life. The first two chapters of this story are public, further updates will be posted on my patreon. When/if the rest of the story becomes public, it will be posted in this thread as well. All characters are over 18. - Virtue: 1 Hannah Hannah stood in the kitchen, her hands in the warm dish water, watching the sparrows outside bathing in the puddles from yesterday’s rain. Hannah shifted her legs as she reached for the dish soap. Her heavy cloth night diaper sagged between them, straining her frosted plastic pants. The skirt of her faded blue gingham dress swished over the plastic as she moved. At the sound of a loud slap behind her, Hannah started and looked over her shoulder, a burst of urine dribbling into her diaper as she did so. Her mother, Michelle, had just plopped a large wad of bread dough on the table and was kneading it aggressively. Hannah watched her admiringly, envying her mother’s confidence and skill in the kitchen. She knew that in her mother, she was looking at her future. Michelle was middle aged, pudgy, and had a tired but attractive face. Her dark curly hair was pulled back in a bun and she worked the dough with the shapely arms and strong hands of a woman used to hard labour. Michelle’s diaper, the outline of which was clearly visible against the back of her dress, looked heavier than her own. Unlike Hannah, her mother had a distinct waddle as she moved around the kitchen. However, Hannah still thought that Michelle’s large diaper looked less out of place on her matronly figure than on her own girlish hips. Hannah greatly admired her mother’s humble strength in the many sacrifices she had made for her family. She was thankful that for her, everything would be easier than it had been for her mother. She had had the privilege to be raised correctly from the start, whereas her mother had had to relearn everything about a virtuous life when she met Hannah’s father. Looking up from working the dough to see Hannah watching her, Michelle directed a single pointed look back at the dishes. Hannah blushed and picked up a spatula, feeling herself softly pass gas into her diaper as she did so. One good thing about getting up early to help mom in the kitchen was that it gave her bowels a chance to move before her morning diaper change. The downside, of course, was having to spend more time awake in her much thicker night diaper. Hannah picked up a bowl with a pattern of soft pink flowers around the rim and dipped her dishrag into the soapy water. Truthfully, Hannah did have a tiny secret, and one that made her blush with guilt to think of. She knew very well that it wasn’t appropriate for women to hold their waste, but she had been secretly practising influencing when she used her diaper. Too often, her body chose to go only after she had been changed into the diaper she would spend the rest of the day in. Hannah had slowly learned that with a little effort, she could dirty her diaper before her morning change and therefore spend most of the afternoon in a cleaner diaper. She’d never been explicitly told it was wrong, but she couldn’t imagine it was something a truly good and virtuous girl would do. Nonetheless, it gave her the tiniest thrill to exert this little bit of control over her life, and to privately know that at least some of her innocent feminine accidents were intentional. As she felt the pressure building in her bowels, she knew that she needed to act now before the urge passed. Feeling herself flushing with excitement and embarrassment, Hannah spread her legs slightly and tried to push. She braced her small hands on the edge of the sink and leaned forward, unable to concentrate on pretending to wash a dish as she pushed. Hannah stifled a little gasp as she felt a unexpectedly large and mushy mess slide into her diaper. Hannah beamed even through the familiar shame she always felt after using her diapers. That was so easy! She tried to casually smooth down the back of her skirt, feeling the slight bulge of her mess under her plastic pants. Sheepishly, Hannah’s gaze darted back over to her mother to check if she’d noticed. Michelle’s only indication that she was aware her daughter had filled her diaper was an expressionless glance at Hannah’s bottom. She continued dividing the dough for buns without comment. Hannah turned back to the dishes, looking at her reflection in a large soup spoon. Only 19, she was sweetly and delicately beautiful, with a heart-shaped face, large expressive brown eyes, and a constellation of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her light brown hair was braided in a single thick plait and her bangs, which she had been growing out, were tucked behind her ears. Hannah placed the spoon in the dish rack and began picking at the dried dough along the edge of a mixing bowl. She knew that of course, under no circumstances would her mom say anything negative about her dirty diaper. Her mother had always made it very clear that it was one thing for the boys to tease their sisters about their full diapers, but for the girls to do it to each other was nothing but catty meanness. Still, she felt reassured that her mom hadn’t noticed anything unusual about her accident. She wondered if her mother ever experimented with maintaining control over her body in this way. She couldn’t imagine that her mother would ever think of such a thing. She did wonder about her older sisters, who certainly didn’t have all the respect for themselves that they ought too- “Are you quite done with those dishes, Hannah?” Hannah’s head shot back up at this subtle rebuke. She looked back over her shoulder at her mother. Michelle gestured with a flour covered hand to the dining room. “Can you set the table please?” Her voice was incredibly controlled and betrayed only the slightest sign that her limited supply of patience was wearing. Hannah nodded and wiped her hands on a dish towel. Grabbing a handful of cutlery, she made her way over to the table. As accustomed to it as she was, her full diaper still interrupted her natural grace. She felt awkward and infantile, especially after receiving a tiny reprimand from her mother for dilly-dallying. Hannah carefully set the table and straightened the floral table runner. As she looked up, she was dazzled by the morning sun shining through the dining room windows. Outside, the pear trees in the yard were just coming into bloom. Beyond them and only just visible from the window, her and her sister’s diapers were drying on the clothesline. Hannah sat down on the low window ledge, entranced by the birds that were flitting around the pear blossoms. Her diaper squished uncomfortably under her, her mess mushing upwards into the front of her diaper and pressing against her vulva. Hannah smiled, knowing that it was a sign that she was loved and protected. She knew that she was truly blessed.

Hey everyone! It's Sophie! Pudding and I have been writing a few short stories recently so I'm just going to post them all at once. If you like them and want to support our writing, please check out our Patreon: www.patreon.com/sophieandpudding -------------------------- Bnuuy Brainwash By Pudding *Author’s Note: I wrote this as a birthday gift for my favorite dumb bnuuy, Claire, and she was gracious enough to share with you all. Premise: Claire is a new initiate in the Dependent program, where she is regressed to a full-time baby. What awaits Claire in her new life? Disclaimers: brainwashing, hypnosis, diapers, wetting, messing -------------------------- “You can’t do this to me!” They always said that, without fail, without exception, as though that very simple and defiant proclamation might have changed their fate. What did they expect would happen when they said that? Did they fancy that the fate chosen for them would suddenly and miraculously be reversed? That the very extensive program designed purely and strictly for this purpose would just do an about-face and decide that they indeed couldn’t do this? Regardless of motivation, it was all academic at this point anyway; once a person was nominated to undergo this conversion, there was no turning back, or reversing the process, or presence of an off-switch or anything of the sort. And beyond a doubt, the program worked — it had worked on thousands of other people before this little bundle of sass and spunk, and it would work on thousands and thousands more after her too. She was certainly attractive, with brown eyes that shone with intelligence and thought, an adorable nose and a smile that was best described as too pretty for a girl as clever as she was. Although presently, smiling seemed to be the last thing on her mind. Rather, she wore a scowl with all the efficacy of a child; much more of a pout than anything intimidating. It wasn’t hard to see why someone might want her transformed into a Dependent. What was her name? Claire? That was a pretty name, and suitably juvenile too. A glance at the chart revealed that her wife had nominated her for the program, citing in her application that Claire was often lost in daydreams and fantasy worlds, and couldn’t be trusted with adult tasks. Which was in no way to say she wasn’t capable, just that when given the choice she’d always rather lose herself in passions than devote herself to something meaningful. Just like any child, really. “Oh, you know, they always say that Claire.” “But!” she scrunched up her nose and shook her head, “maybe other people deserved it, but not me, I’m not supposed to be here. My wife-” “Is the one who sent you here, yes, that’s very good!” There was a brief and delightful silence from the girl as her pretty brown eyes fell under the weight of her frowning, and she tried to figure out if that was true or not. This, too, was all too common. She’d probably see it as a betrayal, rather than the act of love that it had been. “She wouldn’t, she loves me, and… and and and…she wouldn’t do this to me.” Bingo! “And it’s because she loves you that you’re here, Claire. My name is Miss Pudding, although you don’t really need to remember that for very long - you won’t be in any state to call an adult by name, soon enough.” “Pudding!” “That’s right, sweetheart! That’s my name,” the woman clapped her hands in quiet and singular applause, and continued, “and you’re Claire, although I’m to understand that your Momma-to-be has something more appropriate in mind as a pet name for you.” This was about the time Pudding expected Claire to realize the gravity of her situation, and the brown-eyed-beauty certainly didn’t disappoint. She looked around slowly at first; as the fire in her heart faded and the metaphorical smoke was given a chance to clear. She was in a room with lilac walls and carpet, lacking any other defining features apart from the bed she was strapped firmly down to by the wrists and ankles. “Please, please please, you gotta let me go…I won’t tell anyone, I won’t, and I’ll um…” Tears were starting to pool at the edges of those pretty pretty eyes, and she really did look beautiful, especially in such a state. “You’re trying too hard, Claire; there’s no escape and by the time we’re done with you, escape won’t even be something you want. So just relax and try to enjoy yourself.” There was a click sound as the lights went down, and as though the lights had been her own eyes, Claire faded quickly into sleep. * * * When she woke up, Claire wasn’t in the lilac room anymore, and she wasn’t in the bed, and she wasn’t in the dark. Around her she could hear the busy chittering of what sounded like children, although she couldn’t focus on them right now; she was so awestruck and stunned by what she was wearing: a gingham dress in lilac that flowed over her body the way that snow painted a layer over the world in winter. Wearing a pretty dress was right. Something thick between her legs that she immediately lost focus on if she tried to think about it. That was right, too. And something in her mouth that a part of her brain told her was a pacifier and a louder voice inside of her told her was okay. Promptly, defiantly, she ignored that voice, and spat the thing out from between her lips. The pacifier fell only far enough for the momentum to be arrested by the clip attached to her dress. She could feel panic trying to rise in her chest, both fueled and suppressed by the final realization that she wasn’t alone anymore. Her eyes looked around, panned the horizon from her place sitting on the floor, and she saw now what she’d thought were children. Her brain tried to tally them up, although any counting past four seemed to get jumbled, and so she concluded there were simply ‘lots’. Lots of adults, dressed in pretty outfits. Dresses and shortalls, onesies and skirtalls, footed sleepers and cute polka-dotted ensembles. The largeness of the room made Claire feel very small by comparison. Claire winced and rubbed her head; feeling braided plaits that danced and pulled under their own weight of hair and ribbons. Something didn’t feel right; her head didn’t feel right, her thoughts didn’t feel right. None of this felt right, or sensical, or familiar. A voice that reached out to her did feel familiar, though. A voice she knew, a voice she trusted. “Hello again, darling girl.” Looking up at the woman who stood above her, there were a lot of floating thoughts in her head. Safety. Happiness. Trust. Miss Pudding. And another name that came to the forefront the way a message might in a magic 8 ball: Nana. “Nana…?” Claire felt uncomfortable with that word; she felt conflicted. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, and like it was the first time she’d ever said it. Moreover, her voice felt strange… or her choice of words, maybe. Like most of the words she reached for flittered out of her reach. “What happened… what… what did you do to me, Nana?” The standing woman knelt and put her hand on Claire’s cheek with a warm smile – the kind of smile that made Claire flush with warmth for reasons she couldn’t understand — and spoke to her in words that felt like honey; sweet and thick and sticky. “Nana didn’t do anything you didn’t want, sweetie.” “She… she didn’t…?” Claire felt so confused. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. She remembered the Lilac Room, and she she remembered the darkness, and she remembered… swimming? No. She remembered sinking. And then floating. She remembered feeling scared, and then safe, and then… her memory felt foggy. Or maybe it felt like it was receding the way that waves did after they crashed upon the shore. Nana had such a warm smile and such pretty eyes. How had Claire never noticed that before? How had she never noticed those pretty blue eyes? She wanted to look away and found herself patently unable. A voice in her head told her that it was okay to float in those waters, and that Nana loved her. Of course Nana loved her. Obviously. “What… what is this, Nana?” She tugged at her dress, at the pretty purple gingham material, and managed to look away just to look down at it. There was an oddness between her legs she was still aware of; a thickness, a foreign strangeness. And just as soon as she focused on it, her attention fluttered away like a butterfly all over again. “It’s your dress, Claire. A pretty pretty dress for a pretty pretty girl.” “For a pretty pretty girl…” Claire mused quietly, trying to see if the words fit as well as the dress did. “That’s right, darling! You’re Nana’s Pretty Girl! How’s your drawing coming?” “Drawing…?” Claire felt ever more confused, but her eyes scanned the floor where she was sitting for any sort of answer and found a sheet of paper with a crude drawing of a three stick figures in dresses, holding hands. “Oh!” Suddenly, Claire was awash with enthusiasm and excitement as she started to point fervently at the paper. “This is… um… this is um…” And just as quick as the excitement came, it gave way to foggy confusion. Quicker still, a three-tone chime sounded in the room and every single person paid attention. Claire couldn’t be sure what it meant, but as sure as she knew Nana loved her, she knew that the tone was important! “It’s time for your favorite game, darling, you should hurry!” Nana encouraged her, and Claire nodded. She knew which place she liked the most. The one with the lilac game controller, the one next to the fingerpaints and the fairy wings. Quick as she could, she crawled over to the small, curved screen by the nearby wall and sat herself down in front of the display, taking the oversized controller in her hands. An image of a bunny came to life, and Claire heard herself giggling happily. Colors flicked up on the screen, and she pushed the buttons, and her mind floated away into a happy bliss of lights and colors and instructions. * * * “I dun’ feel good, Nana…” There weren’t any sounds around her anymore, just the walls of the Lilac Room. Claire sat upon the bed, and Nana sat next to her. How had she gotten here? How long had it been? Her tummy twisted in anxiousness, and she squeezed her thighs tight around what she knew for a fact was her diaper. That made sense. “You need to go for another swim, darling, that’s all. Are you ready?” “A swim…?” “Into The Blue.” Claire might not have been feeling good, but those words made the most sense to her. She loved The Blue, almost as much as she loved her Nana and her Momma. The idea of getting to visit made her giggle happily, and it took all her energy to steel herself and focus and calm, before obediently staring into Nana’s eyes. * * * “I’m a baby.” “I’m a little baby.” “I love my Momma.” “I love my Nana.” “I can’t take care of myself.” “I’m a baby.” “I’m a good little baby.” “I love my dresses.” “I love my diapers.” “I’m helpless.” “I’m a baby.” “I’m a dumb and happy little baby.” “I love being a baby.” “I love being dependent.” “I’m too pretty for thoughts.” “I’m a baby.” “I’m a diaper-dependent, incontinent, devoted little baby.” “I love my Momma.” “I love my Nana.” “They do the thinking, Claire does the stinking.” “I’m a baby.” “I’m a beautiful, brilliant baby bunny.” “I’m too pretty for thoughts.” “I’m helpless, obedient, pretty, and submissive.” “Thoughts for for grown-ups, diapers are for Bunny.” “Bunny obeys.” “Bunny listens.” “Bunny is a baby.” “Bunny is better this way.” * * * “I’ma bunny…baby…baby bnuuy…” Claire wasn’t sure why she said those words, but her thoughts swirled with words just like those, and each one of them felt as true and genuine and real as her looking at the grass and saying it was green. And Bunny was so good at colors! That’s why she wore a purple dress in her drawing, and Nana wore yellow, and Momma wore teal. Bunny was in the middle, holding hands, and that was the best bestest place for her! “Nananananana!” Claire giggled as she felt Nana lean down next to her and slip fingers under her dress to check her diapers. Bunny wore diapers. Claire was Bunny and she loved her diapers because of course she did! There was a heavenly and familiar musical chime, and she didn’t even need to be told – she had to get a best high score with the pretty rabbit! She hadda get to 72! Claire crawled across the foam tiled floor and plopped down between two other babies that were just like her, and she took the purple controller awkwardly in her hands. “Bunn--nnyyyy!” She giggled at the heterochromatic rabbit and pressed all her buttons just the way she was told. Bunny loved to be obedient! Helpless and Obedient and Pretty and Submissive. Bunny HOPS! * * * “Oh my goodness, darling, someone’s a stinky little princess, isn’t she?” “I can’ helps it Nana… I was sleepsin an’ I’ma baby…” “That’s right, darling! Messing in your sleep during nap time is very normal for a girl your age.” Distantly, a part of her brain told Bunny that she didn’t used to do that. That she didn’t used to play with the others until she got tired, and then go to sleep on the floor in the playroom, and then poop her diapers. But that didn’t make any sense at all, and that was why Bunny didn’t do the thinking. Bunny was too pretty for thoughts, after all. Helplessly, she let Nana pick her up and put her against her hip. Had Nana always been so big? It didn’t matter. All grown-ups were much bigger than Bunny was, and that was because and also proved the fact that, she was a baby. Bunny and Baby both started with a B, and she sure didn’t know many more letters than that, so it had to be true. Obediently - as though this routine had happened a thousand times - she cuddled into Nana like a koala as she was carried over to the changing room. Prettily, she smiled. Her giggle was so vacant, and her eyes were glossy and happy and empty. Bunny sucked her fingers all the way there, until Nana put her binkie back between her lips. Submissively, she laid down on the padded changing table and kicked her feet happily. “You’ll be ready to go home soon, and see your Momma. Won’t that be wonderful?” “Yuh yuh yuh! I wanna see my Momma ‘cause she’s a good an’ I love her an’ an’ an’!” “And she’ll be so proud of how your conversion is progressing, darling.” “Yuh yuh yuh Momma gonna love my this.” While babbling back and forth with her Nana, Claire knew a few things. She knew that this adult woman was changing her very mushy diaper that she had no recollection of using, and that there were countless others who could just look over and see. She knew that she’d gotten so much smaller since being here, and she knew that she needed her diapers beyond doubt. She knew that she heard Nana’s voice in her head, and her words were always the right thing to do. She knew that she was a baby girl. She knew that she loved her Momma. She knew how much she loved to play her bunny game on the screen, and how much she loved her binkie, and how much she loved her drawings. She knew how much happier she was now. And she knew how much many more happy it made her to be told what to do. Burning deep inside of her, Bunny knew she was created to please and fulfill and make people happy. “All changed!” Nana smiled, patting the front of Bunny’s diaper with a sense of accomplishment. Already, Bunny couldn’t wait to get down off the changing table and get back to playing. “Nanananana I wan’ play an’ I wan’ draw an’ I wan’ make more drawings for Momma!” “Well you’d better hurry, Bunny, you might see your Momma sooner than you think.” With her brown eyes filled with determination, Bunny nodded her head earnestly. “Bnuuy will draw lots of the pictures an’ make lots of good an’ give Momma LOTS of smiles!” True to her Nana’s prediction, it wouldn’t be too much longer before Bunny’s Momma came to get her, and ordinarily that moment of parting would have been a bittersweet one indeed. Of all the caregivers at the conversion nursery, Nana was most known for her imprinting on her charges and sending them back out into the world was always an event of mixed feelings. That made it especially wonderful that Claire was to be a part of a new program where she’d have a state-appointed caregiver relocated to live just across the street from her and to assist her Momma in her continuing development. And, of course, it only made sense for her appointed caregiver to be her Nana who she already loved very, very much. So as Bnuuy drew another picture of herself with her Momma to one side and her Nana to the other, as she hummed and wriggled her diapered bottom as she wet herself without a care in the world, she’d occasionally mutter a few words to herself and giggle. “’…an’ they liveded happy evers afters…” [End.]

Several years back, I read a fic on some digimon-related fansite that involved Ranamon forcibly babying Takuya, but it veered into smut rather quickly; I figured I would do my own non-sexual version. I can't remember the name of the fic, the site I read it on, nor the author, but if anyone finds out that information please let me know so I can credit who I got the idea from [EDIT: original creator contacted me with a positive review, giving me their blessing and telling me not to give out their name as the handle they used when they wrote the original story involved public information. Please respect their wishes as well, and if you figure it out on your own please do not post their name here]. Enjoy! “Crap! Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!” Takuya ran through the brush, cursing mildly as he shoved aside plants and ferns in his mad dash to escape his pursuer. Ugh! Why can't I transform? Stupid digivice, fine time to glitch out—! No sooner had he said that than a plume of water shot out just over his shoulder, startling Takuya and causing him to trip, his signature goggles flying off as he fell face-first into the dirt; he pressed himself off the ground, ready to sprint again when his eyes landed on two blue-green feet right in front of him. “Heh, what's the matter? Suddenly forget how to walk?” “Ranamon...!” Takuya did his best to hide his fear as he attempted to get to his feet, only for another plume of water to appear and envelop him, carrying him helplessly over to Ranamon's grasp. “Urgh... you won't get away with this!” The evil hybrid laughed. “Oh, but that's where you're wrong! Isn't it funny how your little gadget just happened to stop working now? That's the result of one of my new toys... and guess what? Since you're the newest one of all, you get a special preview of what I have planned for all your friends once they come to rescue you!” A dark mist seeped out from her hands, moving slowly towards his face; unable to hold his breath in time, Takuya quickly felt himself fade away into unconsciousness; the last thing he saw before he blacked out was a strange smile on Ranamon's face. “Sleep tight... little one.” Takuya knew something was weird before he even opened his eyes, not including the detail that he was still alive somehow. Firstly, he felt something soft and surprisingly comfortable between his legs; secondly, most strangely of all, he heard what sounded like odd whispering and music just off the edge of hearing, both of which ceased as something was quickly removed from his head before his eyes could open fully. Once he did, he nearly cried out in shock at Ranamon's smiling face staring down at him. “Ah!” A soft chuckle came as response. “Aww, how cute! Did mommy startle her widdle baby?” “What? I'm not a baby!” “Well then,” she said with a smug grin, “if you're not a baby, explain where you are and what you're wearing!” He looked around to see that he was, in fact, sitting in an oversized crib; it was exactly as large relative to him as a regular crib would be to a real baby featuring soft bedding, several stuffed animals on one end, an overly-cutesy baby blanket covered with images of baby digimon, a small mirror, and a mobile of stars and moons dangling overhead. The room itself was nothing short of a gigantic nursery, with a large playpen, a changing table, a rocking chair, and a giant baby bouncer. In addition to this, there was a television-like screen near the bouncer, and—bizarrely enough—a large swimming pool, though the latter was fenced off for the moment. The biggest shock of all, however, came when he looked in the mirror and saw what he was wearing: a baby blue footed sleeper made of extra-soft fabric, baby blue mittens, a bib covered with baby digimon, and an attached pacifier (also baby blue); he didn't need to be informed directly to know that he was also wearing either several layers of diapers or one MASSIVE cloth diaper, big enough to keep him from ever closing his legs enough to stand up on his own, let alone walk. “Wh... what did you do to me?!” Ranamon giggled, though oddly the giggle seemed entirely without malice or menace as it usually was with her. “Oh, silly baby! I didn't do anything to you! You've always been mommy's widdle baby digimon! Did you have a bad dream, baby?” The repeated stressing of the word “baby”, combined with the syrupy-sweet tone of voice reserved purely for the tiniest of infants, sparked an indignant rage in the human boy as he blushed red. “Sh-shut up! I'm not your baby, you stupid bitch!” In a flash, Ranamon's smile was gone, replaced with an angry frown; before he could react, he felt a plume of water lift him up into the air—to his surprise, the soft fabric making up his sleeper was waterproof as well—and place him face-down on his captor's lap as she sat in the rocking chair nearby. “Good babies don't use that language! Naughty baby! Time for a spanking!” As she opened the rear flap of his sleeper, Takuya did his best to struggle, only to find that he was somehow weaker than he had ever remembered being, able to do no more than squirm helplessly. Before he could do anything else... WHAP! The sting of the hit was rather mild, but Takuya was certain that without all the padding on his bottom it would have been far worse; what hurt the most was the humiliation of being spanked like a disobedient child. “Ow! Stop it—” WHAP! “Ow! No, don't—” “Will you be a good baby digimon for mommy?” WHAP! “What? Ah! I don't kn—OW! “Will you be a good baby digimon for mommy?” As the spanking continued, the same question was repeated, the stressed section making it clear what his response would have to be to stop the treatment; for the moment, that was far too humiliating to say, but each successive strike from her hand on his increasingly-red bottom—not even the padding could protect him from the impact completely—eroded his will to resist more and more until, at last, the dam broke as he burst into genuine tears, begging for the punishment to stop. “OKAY! OKAY! I'll be good!” WHAP! Not enough, apparently, as evidenced by Ranamon's repeated question. “Will you be a good baby digimon for mommy?” “I'LL BE A GOOD BABY DIGIMON FOR MOMMY!” No sooner had he finished saying it than the flap on his sleeper was snapped shut, and he himself was turned around in her lap for a hug, his legs straddling her and his arms over her shoulders in much the same fashion as an actual baby would be held; one of her hands wrapped around his back, resting on his padded bottom, while the other gently stroked the back of his head as she softly whispered to him. “Shhh... it's okay, baby. Mommy loves you... Such a good baby digimon, relaxing in Mommy's arms and doing what you're told... you're such a good baby now, Takuyamon.” It felt almost genuinely comforting until he heard the addition to his name; he made a brief protest through the tears that just wouldn't stop. “I-it's just T-takuya—” “—Mon. That's a clever baby, you know your name...” “N-no, th-there's no 'mon' in it! I-I'm not a d-digimon...” The stroking stopped as Ranamon looked him in the eyes with a mild glare. “Is mommy going to have to spank baby Takuyamon again?” “N-no! Please!” He'd had quite enough spanking for one day. Apparently satisfied with his answer, she continued stroking the back of his head while whispering comforting words for a while before slowly standing up—wow, she's strong, she's lifting me up and carrying me like this with no problem at all—and gently setting him down in the crib again. “Now, we're going to play a little game! All you have to do is say the right answers, and you'll get a reward,” she said, placing a bonnet on his head and tying it under his chin. “Are you ready, baby?” As much as Takuya hated this treatment, he had little choice but to go along with it for the moment. “Here's the first question: are you a human, or a digimon?” “What? I'm a human—AAH!” Suddenly, images and sensations of the recent spanking flashed through his head. Clearly, that was the wrong answer. “Okay! Fine! I'm a digimon!” “Aww, good baby,” Ranamon replied with a warm smile. Just as suddenly as the spankings flashed through his head, Takuya was now bombarded with images of being held and comforted by her. “Now, say it five more times for mommy!” He paused for a moment before deciding to just bear with it for a while. “I'm a digimon...” Loving arms around me “I'm a digimon...” Soft hand gently stroking my hair “I'm a digimon...” Soothing words spoken in my ear “I'm a digimon....” So safe and comfortable “I'm a digimon.” Feels nice to be held by mommy With every repetition, the sensations grew stronger; upon the last one, he felt a wave of pure bliss rush through him—nothing sexual, just a sublime feeling of being loved, being wanted, being comforted. It felt like the blissful sensation would last forever, but when it finally ended it suddenly felt like it had barely begun, leaving him almost wanting more. Takuya yawned; the whole experience hadn't lasted long, yet he felt so sleepy all of a sudden. “Aww, is my baby digimon just sooo sleepy? Shhh... it's okay, babies need their naps,” Ranamon cooed, switching on the mobile; something about the soft music-box-style lullaby coming from the mobile only exacerbated his tiredness, and Takuya found himself inadvertently rocking back and forth as he sat there, struggling to keep his eyelids open and yawning again. Ranamon reached behind Takuya's head with one hand and placed the pacifier in his mouth with the other, gently lowering him down on his back, shushing him all the while; he didn't even have the strength to spit the pacifier out at this point, so tired was he. Ranamon walked to the edge of the room to dim the lights, leaving only a small nightlight near the crib to prevent total darkness before returning to the side of the crib itself and smiling warmly down at him. She said nothing, but as Takuya drifted off he could have sworn he heard soft music and whispering all the same...