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“Do I have to take them down myself, little girl?” I hate it when my girlfriend calls me that! Yes, I’m six inches shorter. Yes, she’s eight years older. Yes, she’s the one in charge in our relationship, and yes, this whole domestic discipline thing had all been my idea three years ago, but I’m 30 and Not. A. Little! Girl! Dammit! But all I did instead was whine, “Not here. Please? I’m sorry. Can’t we just wait until we get home?” “Daphne,” Mary said, “this is not up for discussion. Besides, Brenna has seen plenty of bare bottoms spanked, including yours.” I glared at Brenna. We knew her through a local Fetlife group. Sometimes we did just plain vanilla stuff with her, like regular friends, like today, when she’d asked us for help planting trees in her yard. Mary has the green thumb. I hate yard work. “Bare? Can’t it just be over my shorts?” You’d think I’d have gotten used to being spanked, what with not a week going by when I wasn’t, but I never had, which I guess is the point. I looked at Brenna, who was smiling approvingly from the couch. Mary had pulled a kitchen chair into the living room and sat down. “Did your shorts make a rude comment to Brenna? Did your undies? So why would I spank those,” Mary asked me in her stern voice, the one she saves for when she’s talking to me like I’m a naughty little kid. “No,” I mumbled. I’d learned the hard way that there is no such thing as a rhetorical question when I’m in trouble. Mary reached out and grabbed me by the waistband of my innocent shorts and pulled me closer. None of this would have happened if Brenna had just been grateful we were over there helping in the first place. So I’m not Ma Nature - did it really matter if the hole wasn’t exactly fifteen inches deep? Of course, I do have a tendency to kill houseplants, even succulents. But anyway, she was harping on it, and I got irritated and said, “Then why don’t you just do it yourself, dammit?” I’m not sure if I’d have been in so much trouble if I hadn’t added the ‘dammit.’ At least I didn’t interfere while Mary popped the button on my shorts and whisked them, along with my panties, down to me ankles. “How did you get so dirty, anyway,” Daphne asked. “Not like you were putting that much effort into it.” I didn’t need to respond because Mary easily tossed me over her knee. My hands were on the floor, but my feet were not, leaving my butt hanging there. “Anything to say, Daphne,” Mary asked as she rubbed my butt. “I’m really sorry?” “Not as sorry as you will be.” That little rub is all I ever get for a warm up. Mary believes spankings are best delivered hard and fast, and within ten second she’d probably spanked me thirty times. This all started as a relationship with spanking involved, a little role play and bedroom fun. I even spanked her a couple times, though neither of us liked it. Eventually, I said I wanted it to be more than roleplay. I wanted it to be our lifestyle. I shortly thereafter found out just how many issues Mary had with my behavior and how much she’d been wanting to fix them for a while by then. But I wasn’t thinking about the time she had needed to spank me three times in one day. I was thinking about the spanking she was giving me right then. Mary is thorough in everything she does, and a creature of habit. She always starts out spanking me seemingly at random, no order to which side she wails on or how many. She likes to make sure I can’t anticipate anything. I lay there doing my best to hold still and be quiet, trying to keep my eyes closed and pretend Brenna wasn’t there, probably smiling. Only when my butt is a dark pink from top to sit spots does Mary really get going. As she says, this is when the real spanking starts. She stopped assaulting my butt and said, “Hand me the paddle, Daphne.” I freakin’ hate the thing. It’s small, heavy, and has four holes in it. She got it specifically to keep in her purse. She could just use her hairbrush when she disciplines me away from home (dressing rooms are the worst - everyone can hear!), but no, she says knowing she has a just-for-spanking implement with her at all times does a better job reminding me to behave. I pick it up with my left hand and reach behind me to give it to her. She takes it, then takes my arm and pins it behind my back. I’m a wiggler when she uses that thing. She’s like a freakin’ ninja with it. Equal parts thuddy and stingy, she paddles as fast as she hand spanks, but in a tight pattern. Up and down, each spank overlapping with the one before it, in a tight row, then shifting over and working a line from top to sit spot again. She never makes it from one side to the other but that I go from grunts to sobs to tears. Every. Damn. Time. The small paddle bounces off my bottom so fast I don’t even feel the individual spanks anymore. It’s all one swollen throb. She’s gentle, by comparison, with my thighs, but before she’s done with those ten spanks to the tender backs of my legs, I frantically promise, “I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” Mary finished the last spank, and I lay over limp over her soft lap, big tears falling, and my nose running. It takes me a few seconds to realize Mary is rubbing my back, like she always does after a hard spanking, shushing me gently. When I’m ready, I start to get up, and Mary helps me so that I’m sitting on her lap, my crimson bottom aching when I do, and crying into her shirt as she calms me. “It’s okay, little girl,” she coos to me, “All is forgiven.” She kisses my temple. “Let it all out. That’s my brave girl.” When I get myself under control, though still struggling with the occasional sob and needing badly to blow my nose, she helps me off her lap. “What do you say to Brenna,” Mary asked. I don’t know when I kicked off my shorts and panties, nor do I care. I shuffled over to Brenna. “I’m sorry for being rude,” I said. “I forgive you,” she says, opening her arms. Brenna is big woman, and I all but collapse into her softness. I do like her, even though she has a way of bringing out the brat in me, but that brat never seems to be that far away. I stand between her big thighs, and she rubs my butt with one hand while she hugs me with the other. I’m grateful she does because I’m not allowed to rub. “Mary, why don’t you go take her to wash her face, and I’ll get lunch ready,” Brenna suggests. “Can I have my shorts back,” I ask meekly. “After lunch,” Mary says, holding out her hand. I take it. I like Mary’s hands. I also know she’s gonna lift me up and seat me on the cold vanity, and that it’s gonna feel good for about five seconds then feel clammy and hard. After lunch, I’m for sure gonna dig those holes right, and without a world of complaint.

Part 1: “Hey, sis! Do you really want to accept mom’s treatment? This is a clear restriction of human rights.” The 9 years old Audrey scolded her older sister Hannah. It was about 9PM and their mom just left their bedroom to say goodnight. A week ago, they would have gotten up silently, grabbed their phones and started chatting. However, their condition changed three days ago. Both Audrey and Hannah liked the social networks, and they spent a lot of time hanging on them and chatting with friends. Fortunately, that activity didn’t affect their grades, but their mom Susan wasn’t enthusiastic about it. Both girls tried to trick her, and they logged on at nights. Of course, most of their friends were asleep, but Audrey and Hannah talked with some of them at school, and they found soulmates that were willing to chat late in the evening or even at nights. Their idea almost worked, and they could spend several pleasant evenings at chatting until Susan caught them red handed. She wanted to check their clothes and entered their room; she expected them to be asleep. “What are you doing? I believed you took my objections to heart, but you have tricked me. Well, it’s time change my attitude. I can’t trust you and I have to assure you won’t hang on the social networks at night,” She took their phones and left. Audrey and Hannah startled; they didn’t know what their mom planned. She took their phones, but the grin on her lips revealed other plans. The next evening, mom and dad entered the bedroom. They were carrying a bunch of rope. “Here you are your phones,” mom put the phones onto the table, “however you won’t use them,” she grinned. Dad stepped forward and grabbed Hannah, wrestled her arms behind her back and mom tied her wrists. Audrey stared at the scene wide-eyed; before she could react, her wrists were tied behind her back, too. “You will spend every night like this. This will prevent you from using your phones.” “Are you serious, mommy?” Audrey was shocked. “Yeah, I am. I also want to sleep without being disturbed,” she left the room and returned with six large cloth diapers and two pair of rubber pants. She pulled down their pajama pants and put three folded diapers on their crotches. The diaper packages kept their legs apart. “Lie down and I will cover you. I‘ll come in the morning and untie you,” she covered them, switched off the light and left. The first night was terrible. The girls couldn’t fall asleep with their arms tied behind their backs and couldn’t cover themselves when the covers slipped down. The phones were sitting on the table, but it was impossible to use them. Hannah managed to doze off and Audrey also fell asleep about half an hour later. However, she woke up in the middle of the night; she had to pee. She stood up and sneaked out of the room and walked over to the toilet. To her utter terror she realized she couldn’t pull down her pajama pants and reach the buttons of the rubber pants. Her wrists were trapped behind her back and the ropes were unyielding. “Oh no,” she sighed silently when the cramp of her bladder sent a stream of pee into the garment between her legs. The diapers got wet and warm. She silently returned to the bedroom and lay down on her bed. “Good morning, it’s time to get up,” mom switched on the light and entered the room. She pulled down Hannah’s pajama pants and checked the diaper. “Good girl, you are dry,” she patted Hannah’s head and removed the diaper and untied Hannah’s wrists. Hannah literally jumped from the bed and ran away to the bathroom. “What about you?” she pulled down Audrey’s pajama pants, “oh, poor girl; you have had an accident.” “Mommy, I’m not a toddler,” Audrey protested and squeezed her legs, “you have tied me up and I couldn’t go to the toilet. Untie me now; I’ll pee in the diapers again otherwise. “Hey, watch your mouth! You and Hannah broke my rules, and you have to face the consequences. I’ll untie you when you behave.” Audrey got angry, stood up and wanted to run towards the toilet; however, her legs were trapped by the pajama pants. She stumbled, dropped to her knees, and peed in her diaper. Tears appeared in her eyes. She was humiliated and decided to fight. “Okay, let’s remove this soaked diapees,” mommy lifted her, removed the diaper, and untied her wrists. The next evening, they were tied up and diapered again, and Audrey peed in her diaper while Hannah was able to hold her pee. Audrea couldn’t understand Hannah; why was her older sister that submissive and obedient? At school, they didn’t meet, and she didn’t have any opportunity to speak with Hannah in private. The third evening, Audrey knew she had to convince her sister somehow, and she started the discussion immediately after mom and dad had left. Hannah was a bit amused by the comment on human rights and smiled. “Audrey, we have broken the rules. If you commit a crime, you can expect a punishment.” “What crime? I know that mom doesn’t like the social networks, but chatting isn’t a crime though.” “Well, she wants us to sleep and not chat. This isn’t that bad.” “Not bad? It is hard to sleep with your hands behind your back, and I peed myself every night and feel like an overgrown toddler. It is an embarrassing feeling to pee in your diaper. I spent several hours in a wet diaper. You could hold your pee every time.” “What do you want to do? We are tied up though.” “What if we tried to get free? We would sleep comfortably and go to the toilet whenever we needed to.” “I don’t know. Mommy would get angry and punish us even more. Try to have some sleep now.” “Okay, okay,” Audrey sighed heavily. She couldn’t get free on her own and Hannah didn’t want to help. She tried to fall asleep and half an hour later her eyes closed. In the middle of the night, Hannah suddenly woke up and she was surprised; her bladder was overfilled. What happened? She had peed before going to bed though. Hannah didn’t have any idea about s few drops of diuretics her mom had put into her juice after dinner. It was a part of their lesson. Audrey didn’t need any diuretics; her bladder was smaller, and she had to go to the toilet every night. The pressure in Hannah’s bladder grew every moment, and she tried to squeeze her legs. Unfortunately, the package held her legs apart. Hannah pulled on the rope in a vain effort to get free. Suddenly a cramp in her bladder made her muscles fail and a stream of pee soaked her diaper. Her bladder was quite big, and she couldn’t stop the flow until the very last drop. Her crotch was uncomfortably wet. She almost talked to Audrey, but she realized Audrey had been right. The wet diapers were really terrible. Audrey woke up a little later and she peed in her diaper without even opening her eyes; she didn’t have any other option left. “Audrey, are you awake?” Hannah asked her quietly when she noticed her stirring. “Yeah, I’ve just peed in my diaper. What is going on?” “My bladder was overfilled, and I had to pee in my diaper. I don’t understand it.” “Something is wrong, sis. We have to find it out,” Audrey replied. “The diaper is uncomfortably wet. I wish I could get rid of it. Can you help me?” “Hey, remember what you said in the evening. Did you change your opinion?” “Sorry, Audrey; it is really uncomfortable.” “I had to endure in the wet diapers for two nights. Now it’s your turn to enjoy.” “Okay,” Hannah realized Audrey was right. She sighed and fell asleep. However, she had to face another nightmare that night. Her bladder filled up again and the diapers weren’t able to hold all her pee. Her diapers leaked, and her pajama pants were wet. “Morning,” Susan entered the bedroom and noticed the wet pajama pants. Hannah’s bed also was a little wet. “Oh, my poor soaked girl,” she stroked Hannah’s hair, “let’s remove your wet garments now.” Hannah bit her lip; she didn’t want to show her attitude change. Susan removed her pajama pants and untied her wrists. Audrey waited patiently until Susan moved to her and asked her a seemingly innocent question. “Mommy, I feel sorry for my sister. It has to be hard for her. Is she ill?” “No, sweetheart, I don’t think so,” Susan replied but a slight sign of grin appeared on her face, “it plainly happened.” “How so? She never has to go to the toilet at nights.” “No idea, sweetheart; maybe something changed; don’t worry about it,” Susan removed her soaked diaper and untied her wrists. Audrey noticed that her mom was hiding something and decided to tell it Hannah as soon as possible. However, she had to wait until evening to be alone with her.

This is chapter one of an ongoing, collaborative story written by me and my friend, BoysRBabies. We are writing alternating chapters—I wrote this first one. We will publish the whole story here, posting a new chapter every week or two. BoysRBabies posts fantastic captions of forced regression on Tumblr. I publish stories of diapers and domination on Smashwords. Hope you all enjoy it! Chapter 1 Tyler swerved his Range Rover around a slow-moving clump of cars. They clogged up the fast lane. And the middle lane. And would have blocked him in the slow lane, too, if he'd let them. Didn't people have any place to be on a Monday morning? He shot the pack leader his best disapproving look as he passed. The middle-aged man gripped the steering wheel of his middle-aged sedan. Hands at 10 and 2. A dopey half-smile on his face. Completely oblivious. "We won't get there any faster if we're dead," Monica said. Her knuckles were pale white against the black leather console. So dramatic. Always so dramatic. "We won't get there at all at this rate," he said. She shook her head. "What?" "Nothing." "It's obviously not nothing." He sighed and eased back on the throttle, shifting back into the middle lane. "There. Happy?" Her eyes had that watery, verge-of-tears look. The look that could spill over into full-blown crying if he said the wrong thing. Or if he didn't say the right thing. Or didn't say anything at all. He reached over and covered her hand with his. "A few days of Mai Thais and sugar sand and you'll feel better. Promise." She slid her hand out from under his and put it in her lap. "You think that will fix anything?" "Who said anything needs to be fixed?" She stared ahead silently. "Come on, Mon? Martinique? St. Lucia? Making love on the beach?" He leaned closer and grinned. Maybe we can try that thing again. With my finger?" Her frown deepened. "So we aren't even going to talk about it." He pulled back into his seat. "Seriously? You're blowing the whole thing out of proportion. It was an offhand remark. No big deal. Just guy talk. Besides, you know, maybe you shouldn't…" He shrugged. "I shouldn't what?" Her tone was icy. Careful. "I'm just saying, if you hadn't been listening in on my conversation in the first place, you wouldn't be so upset." She laughed. A shrill, short bark of a laugh. God, he hated that sound. "So this is my fault, Tyler?" "There's no fault here, but yeah, maybe you should respect my privacy a bit more." He pulled off the highway onto the exit ramp. A few minutes later than he'd hoped to be, but still on time as long as they didn't hit any traffic. "Do you have any idea how loud you are on the phone? Stomping around the house, yelling at people? How am I supposed to know if you're talking to one of your minions or Connor, or—" she stopped herself and put her hands up in surrender. "Doesn't matter." He suppressed a smile. She was coming around. She always did. She just needed to vent. Get it out of her system. Then they could move on. "Like I said, let's just enjoy the trip, then we can talk about all of it again when we get home. If you still want to." "Fine." Her tone was flat. She stared straight ahead, hands in her lap. Far from a victory, but he'd take a brief ceasefire when he could get one. Especially these days. And who knows, maybe she really would forget about it. The salty tang of ocean air seeped in through the vents. He glanced down at the GPS. Almost there. Park the car. Board the ship. Make sure their bags were in the room. …and that was it. Nothing more to do after that. He could almost taste the gin and tonic now. He pulled into a massive parking lot five minutes later and began working his way down the rows. "Aren't you going to park?" she asked, pointing to several empty spots they passed. "Connor says he's--" "Connor?" Shit. Should have waited until they were parked and standing outside. She wouldn't make a scene in front of Connor. Or at least not in front of Kari. "I told him and Kari about the fabulous deal we got." "They're coming with us?" "They've been needing to get away too. You know, after the acquisition and all that stuff? One thing led to another, and they decided to pick up tickets too." "So even your little apology trip was self-centered." She laughed. "You're making this so much easier. I guess I should be grateful for that." "Easier?" He pulled in next to Connor's Audi. She sure didn't seem to be making anything easier on him. No response. "Mon?" She pulled out her phone and began texting someone. "Hey, listen to me. How is taking you on a cruise with our friends self-centered? It would be self-centered not to tell our friends about this." It also wasn't an 'apology trip,' he wanted to say. But if it made her feel better to think about it that way, so be it. "Your friends," she said, not looking up from her text. "Not mine." Kari rapped on his window and smiled. "One sec," Tyler said. "She just needs to wrap this up." He glared over at her. "I guess." She slipped the phone back into her purse. "Done now?" She nodded. Her expression was unreadable. "Play nice," Tyler said. "It's gonna be a long week if you don't." He got out of the car and gave Kari a hug. Connor was pulling luggage out of the trunk. "Why'd you park way out here?" Tyler asked him. Connor grinned. "Boo-hoo. Leg day yesterday, princess?" "There's a bus," Kari said. "Right, baby?" "Right," Connor said. "Every few minutes. Takes us right to the boat." He closed the trunk. "Here it comes." Tyler turned to see a bus wending its way through the parking lot. It looked more like a school bus than the type of bus you usually see rental car companies and hotels using. Monica got out of the car and stood next to him. "Hi, Kari." "Hey, hon," Kari said back. Best friends they were not, but the two had gotten along better recently. If nothing else, he suspected they bitched about him and Connor. Which was fine. Or at least preferable to listening to all of her complaints himself. He popped the trunk and began stacking their luggage on the pavement. Connor stood there frowning. "What?" Tyler asked. Connor shrugged. "Bus just passed a whole bunch of people." The bus had skipped several groups of passengers, some of whom stood by their cars, looking at the departing vehicle in confusion. "Whatever," Tyler said. "As long as it stops for us." He'd bought the all-inclusive package, so it damn well better stop. He closed the trunk. A moment later, the bus did stop for them. A woman stepped out. Tall, with dark hair pulled into a tight bun. "Monica Howard?" Monica smiled. "That's me." Well that was odd. He'd arranged the whole trip. Why would they know—or care—who she was? He stepped forward. "You have someone to help load our luggage?" She walked past him without so much as a glance. He stomped around in front of her, putting himself between her and Monica. "Hey? Hello? What's your name?" "You have all of the paperwork?" the woman asked Monica. "Paperwork?" Tyler snapped. "That's all been done for weeks. You aren't listening to me." He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Hello? Paying customer here." Monica handed the woman a sheaf of papers. "I want to speak to your manager. What's your employee numb…" the words died in Tyler's throat. "What is all that?" He turned towards the woman. "What's going on here?" "Tyler, this is Holly," Monica said. Holly looked at him for the first time, then back at Monica again. No service worker had ever looked at him like that before. A brief, piercing glare, followed by…complete disinterest. "Okay," he said. "So what? Are you the bus driver or…" "No," Holly said. "Someone explain what the fuck is going on," he snapped. "Holly is from ABC," Monica said. "Is that some sort of holding company for the cruise line?" He looked down at his watch. "One hour. The ship departs in one hour. Someone better—" "You might not know the ABC name, but you know what we do," Holly said. He throws up his hands. "Oh, it speaks. Finally." He expected a glare. Or better yet, a retreat and an apology, as she realized who she'd pissed off. Instead, more disinterest. "ABC runs male regression centers across the United States and Canada." "Male regression centers?" He vaguely remembered reading about them in an article a few years back. In fact, it had been all over the news for a bit. Highly controversial. And easy fodder for Buzzfeed listicles and late-night talk hosts. Putting grown men in diapers and bonnets and calling it therapy? Sounded like some touchy-feely, West Coast bullshit. "That's what I said," Holly replied. "Okay. So what?" He tapped his watch and looked at Monica. "We're not going on a cruise," Monica said quietly. "You're going to a regression center." Tyler laughed. "Connor? This was your idea, right? Where's the camera?" He looked around. Probably Mark. Or that cousin of Connor's—Jimmy? Johnny? Something like that. That guy was constantly posting stuff like this on Youtube. Connor stared at him, his face ashen. "Dude, jokes over," Tyler said. His voice was barely audible, each word coming out slowly and with great effort. "You got your laughs." "It's not a joke," Monica said. He whirled on her. "You're crazy if you think I'm going anywhere. And dumber than I thought." She winced. "You're coming with me to the center, Tyler," Holly said. "Oh yeah?" He eyed her up and down. "Hope you brought some muscle." "I did." God, still so calm. Like she'd done this a thousand times. He wanted to scream at her. Shake her. Get some sort of normal human response. "But I hope we won't need it," she continued. She held up a piece of paper from the sheaf Monica had given her. "Do you know what this is?" "I'm going to take your ass to court, lady. Make me miss my cruise?" He shook his head. "I'll fucking own your company. You'll be working for me in a year." He spun on Monica. "And you--" Holly cleared her throat. "It's called a Blue Slip. It remands you to our custody for a period of not less than one month." "Let me see that," he said. He snatched the paper out of her hand and scanned the legalese for a few seconds, then crumpled it up and then tossed it to the ground. "I think we both know that's not how that works," Holly said. "We have copies on hand at the center. You can read them there if you want. But I assure you, all the i's have been dotted and t's crossed. The request received the full committee's support." "Committee? What committee?" "We can take about that later. It's time to get on the bus." Monica had tears in her eyes. She stepped closer, arms open. "Unh uh." He shook his head slowly. "You stay away from me." He looked over at Connor. "Bro, you gotta get me out of this. Please?" Connor just stared. Holly took his elbow. "Up into the bus now, okay? Pretty soon you'll be settled in and all of this stress will be behind you." She guided him towards the bus. He walked along beside her, mind reeling. The bus doors swung open. He turned around. "My suitcase. I need my clothes." "That's all been taken care of, Tyler," Holly said. Her tone was soft now. Almost soothing. "But—" "Don't worry about that. Don't worry about anything." Tyler glanced at Monica one last time, then stepped up into the bus.

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

Hey everybody! First time poster, longggggg time lurker (and I DO mean LONG. Like, 15+ years at least). Here is a little story I have been cooking up. It’s your standard fare “be careful what you wish for story”. Not meant to revolutionize the ABDL fiction game or anything, but just some nice, hot material for those who want it. It started out as prompts for captions I was planning to make, but ended up 6,000+ words, soooo...oops! Anyways, enjoy! Feedback/encouragement is always appreciated. Love our community- love you all! Stephanie’s Descent Stephanie was a beautiful, petite young lady of 26 who seemed to be grabbing the world by the horns. She had a job in an office doing clerical work while she was in school to become a lawyer, and had a sexy boyfriend named Mark. Sure, she felt insecure in her mature office suits, looking up at one well-dressed man or woman after another from her small stature with her girlishly cute looks. And sure, she had her suspicions that Mark was being unfaithful to her with another friend of hers. Yes, the schoolwork was intense and difficult, and despite her being so charming, this caused her on more than one occasion to be snippy or bratty to her other classmates. But Stephanie did not worry about this. Things would work themselves out. They always seemed to for girls who had it all, like her... One rocky living situation after another led her to have ask her mother if she could return home while she continued to work and study hard. It was a blow to Stephanie’s ego, but her mother Karen was secretly ecstatic. Karen supposed she should be happy for the strides in adulthood that Stephanie was making, but at times she would be so mad about the passage of time that she would do anything to get her little girl back. She would shake these thoughts from her head, as she already had an 18-month-old chubby baby girl to contend with named Lily. Lily’s father quickly left after Karen gave birth, making Karen all the more protective of her girls. She would use this time to impose motherly control and rules on Stephanie, whether she liked it or not. Plus, she could use a helper with Lily, so Stephanie added “caregiver” to her growing list of responsibilities... Stephanie stared down at Lily sleeping in her crib. She smiled and took a deep whiff of the smells of her baby sister’s nursery. Baby powder, baby wipes and the distinct smell of Pampers danced around her nostrils as she sighed, looking around the pink nursery adorned with infantile motifs of baby Disney characters and Winnie the Pooh. “I wonder what it would be like to be a baby again.” Stephanie wondered out loud as she headed over to the changing table. “No adult responsibilities- just toys, and baby shows and....diapers.” She felt a tingle shoot through her as she caressed the crinkly padding piled high under the changing table, imaging herself wearing it. “Oh sure, it would be SO embarrassing, but it might be kinda fun.” Stephanie bit her finger and looked around nervously. Her little shaved pussy throbbing and juices dripping into her panties, she took a breath and yanked her pants down. Then came her now soaked underwear. And now she stood in her baby sister’s nursery, naked from her bellybutton down, except for a cute pair of socks, ready to do something girls her age should not even be considering... Stephanie grabbed one of Lily’s diapers and a bottle of baby powder and placed it deliberately on top of the changing table. She took a big breath, unable to believe she was about to do what she planned to do and hoisted herself up onto the white padded surface. The cool, slick plastic of the changing surface caressing her bare bottom and privates sent another jolt of tingles through her body. Lying on her back she opened the thick diaper and gently fluffed it out to ready it to wear. Just like she did for her baby sister countless times. “If everybody could see me now! I wonder what they would say.” Stephanie again wondered aloud, this time with a chuckle. She bit her lip, lifted her small, perfectly smooth butt and slid the Pampers underneath her. She plopped her tushy down on the waiting, thirsty padding and shuddered as she began to feel more and more like a baby every second. She shook out a liberal amount of sweet-smelling baby powder over her already somewhat infantile looking, perfectly shaved crotch. Her heart was pounding as the mix of nursery aromas and baby sensations brought back feelings of helplessness and memories of daycare. She pulled the diaper up snugly in between her legs and taped it shut tightly against her. She knew from countless shopping trips previously that baby Lily wore the biggest size Pampers available on the market, being a chubby baby and all. The baby diaper fit Stephanie’s slender frame like a glove. She nearly spasmed as she looked down to see Sesame Street characters smiling up and waving at her from the top of the diaper. No, it was HER diaper now. The padding was thick, and almost oppressive, as it pressed securely into her most sensitive areas. The sensation was undeniably babyish. Even slight movements of her butt or legs caused a tell-tale crinkle to emit from her new infant underwear. Her powered pussy encased in her Pampers was dripping with a level of excitement she had never felt before. She was in pure baby bliss. She hopped off the changing table and waddled up to the full-length mirror near Lily’s crib. She was unable to stop herself from toddling, the thick diapers forcing her legs apart and causing an embarrassingly cute cascade of crinkles to follow her as she moved. She looked at herself in the mirror, her large puppy eyes and small figure complimenting her new choice of babyish undergarments. She giggled innocently and smiled as she examined her diapers from all sides. Caressing the outer padding and pulling them up tighter between her legs, she checked out her butt while moaning. Every touch and every movement cause the soft insides of her Pampers to further stroke and rub against her now incredibly sensitive clit, making her purr with pleasure. She looked to her right and glanced down at her still sleeping baby sister. Her gaze shot back to her reflection in the mirror, she popped her thumb in her mouth and in the most babyish voice she could muster exclaimed “More!” She giggled, twirled her hair and began bouncing in place. “More! More! More!” She chirped as she set about the nursery to further enhance her naughty, but incredibly pleasurable experience. Stephanie practically skipped over to Lily’s Winnie the Pooh dresser and threw open the drawers to rummage for more goodies to complete her immersion into babyhood. She practically ripper her halter-top off and unhooked her bra in an instant, letting her pert little breasts bounce free as she did so. She pulled from the dresser the biggest shirt she could find- a nursery yellow My Little Pony shirt featuring cartoon ponies hugging each other on the front. The immature shirt clung to her tightly, barely stretching down to her navel, and holding her small tits close to her chest, making her look flatter than ever. From the top drawer she pulled a small hairbrush and two hair ties with two bright pink plastic balls attached to them. With a sense of urgency, she deftly secured her brown hair into two high pigtails on top of her head. She fished around in the top drawer for a little while longer until she found what she sought, an all-white pacifier with a pink ring on the front of it. She popped in her mouth and almost bit down on the nipple with the surge of pleasure she felt from debasing herself even further from her adult self. She crinkled back up to the full-length mirror with a waddle and gasped at the reflection greeting her. From head to toe she looked every bit a baby- not a day older than her sister Lily. Gone were the fancy suits she wore in the office. Gone were the trendy clothes she wore to stay noticed in college. Gone were the date night dresses she donned to look sexy for her boyfriend Mark. Here she stood completely raw and infantilized for the world. She looked so cute and babyish it was humiliating. She blushed at her appearance and her rosy cheeks only served to make her look MORE like an infant. She looked down and felt her body to make sure it was really her she was looking at in the mirror. She had never felt more infantile or embarrassed. The butterflies in her tummy and the warmth wetness she felt in her private parts signaled to her only one thing...she loved this. End of part 1. I will most definitely be posting more!

This is a story I've been working one for the whole weekend. I think it has a lot potential. So far I've written 13,419 words, and have taken her through her first week of training. Most of that is her first day of training. The part that I'm releasing is taking up to her first day of training., because I haven't been able to edit most of what I've written. This plot has a lot of potential, and a lot of side stories that can be explored. Regressed Adult Institute Jill Holderbank had just graduated with a degree in psychology and was looking for an internship for her PHD. Originally, she thought she would go into Child Psychology, but then something caught her eye. Dr. Kimberly Fels. Dr. Fels was an expert on young adults, particularly those who hadn’t developed any sense of adult responsibility. She developed a program called R.A.D.S, which stands for Regressive Adult Development System. Dr. Fels started R.A.D.S as a method to take aimless adults and help them develop responsibility to function as typical adults. According to Dr. Fels, regressive adults (RAs) , were really just small children, more like a pre-k child than an actual adult. However, since adults have full autonomy over their lives, it is difficult for the RA to process that freedom. They just aren’t ready for that level of autonomy, and they need to have that autonomy taken away, much like you do with a small child. Her definition is any adult over the age of twenty who doesn’t have full-time employment and doesn’t have the ambition to change. Jill was drawn to this program because it specifically hit her family. Her older brother Scott was twenty-five years old, and still living at home. He had a degree in Economics, but it didn’t do him much good. Since college, Scott had a few jobs, but was so irresponsible that he didn’t even last two months. He slept most of the day and played video games all hours at night. Her dad had tried some tough love moves, and had even kicked him out of the house, but Scott couldn’t cope on his own. And then there was her best friend, Chelsea. Or we should say, former best friend. Chelsea and Jill had been friends since kindergarten but had gone in opposite directions after high school. Jill enjoyed college but worked super hard and maintained good grades. Chelsea was the classic spoiled brat. Her father paid for college, but she was far more interested in partying, shopping, and the whole social scene. She failed out of college, and at twenty-three was still living like a teenager. She loved both of them but wondered how she could help them become real adults. The RA Institute was just a non-descript building that looked like any other medical office. She had heard rumors what went on there, but nothing quite prepared her for what she saw. She parked the car and walked towards the lobby. Right in front of her was a young lady pushing a stroller. The girl looked to be just out of high school, and even from behind, Jill could tell there wasn’t a baby in the stroller, or even a young child. Jill noticed the young lady struggling to open the door, so Jill walked up to hold it open. As she got close, she noticed the child was not a child. It was a young man sucking on a pacifier. It was hard to tell how old he was based on the clothing he was wearing, but Jill estimated him to be in his twenties. “Hi Mikey!” The receptionist chimed as the young lady pushed him through the room. “Are you being shy today?” It was the type of words you would use with a four-year-old. The young lady, “Yeah, I think he is embarrassed. I have class this morning, and nobody can watch Mikey. Can I leave him in the daycare?” “Certainly,” and then turned her attention to Jill. “May I help you?” “I’m Jill Holderback, and I have an appointment with Dr. Fels.” “Oh, you must be interviewing for the intern position, I’ll let her know that you are here.” The lobby looked to be very much like a normal medical office. The kind that Jill had seen a number of times. She reviewed the information that Dr. Fels had provided. R.A.D.S. A program for regressed adults to support their gradual transition into adulthood. In this program, RAs go through six stages before they are ready to graduate from the program. · Stage 1: Diaper Training and regression o RA Regressed to Level 2 o Diaper conditioned o 1 to 3 months · Stage 2: Maintenance o Levels 4 to 7 o RA maintains level 4 for 2 to 3 months · Stage 3: Reintroduction o Level 8 to 11 § RA given responsibilities · Stage 4: Independence o Level 12 to 19 § RA gains gradual independence § RA allowed employment · Stage 5: Training o Level 20-Potty training · Stage 6: Completion o Monitored independent learning. o RA must maintain 12 months of employment o $10,000 in savings Jill looked over the levels. They started out at Level 1, which had the RA completely restricted with no privileges. Each level seemed to add certain privileges, like later bedtimes, but she noticed that the RA wasn’t even potty trained until Level 20. Dr. Fels came up to Jill and said, “Are you Jill?” “Yes, it’s an honor to meet you Dr. Fels.” Dr. Fels was dressed in a dark dress suit, which showed that she was a strong female who demanded respect. Dr. Fels said, “Please call me, Kim.” Dr. Fels went on to say, “Out here, we demand that RAs use titles, but all of the adults here are on equal status.” Jill followed Dr. Fels to her office. She walked by a room that looked like a typical nursery, but inside she saw what looked like adults dressed as children. Dr. Fels said, “That’s our daycare. We only have a few RAs in the program, so we are using it for training prospective nannies.” Dr. Fels asked Jill the typical interview questions, and then asked if Jill had any questions. Jill first asked, “Yes, the levels seem to coincide with biological age, but you don’t introduce potty training until the end of the program. You said that the program can take up to four years, which seems like a long time in diapers.” Dr. Fels laughed, “We found the diapers to be integral in the transformation. We need to take the regressed adult to infantile stage in order to allow them to progress. This program is sort of like a reset. If you think about it, potty training is one of the first moves towards independence that I child can make. They learn to independently take care of their own bodily functions, and we find that it makes the most sense that it be the last thing an RA regains.” “Can you explain how you came about this program?” Kim sighed and took a deep breath, “Well, this might surprise you. Are you familiar with Female-led-marriages?” Jill had heard of the term before but was still a little naïve at twenty-three years old. “Kind of, but I’m not really sure.” It’s a marriage where the power dynamic is switched. Instead of the male being the head of household, or even an equal member, the male submits to the wife entirely. In my opinion, the male mind is entirely too immature for that level of responsibility. My husband is a good man, and had a good job, but he was lazy. He first agreed to the FLM, but there were still problems. Eventually I gave my husband a choice. Submit to full-time diaper discipline or move out. It surprised me, but he agreed to wear diapers full-time. And I noticed an immediate difference right away. He accepted my authority and we stopped fighting right away. We have a much happier marriage. Being the psychologist that I am, I used my nephew as a guinea pig. And it really worked. That kid was lazy, and he ended up graduating with a degree in engineering and has a great job. He is still immature, but at least he is no longer living off his parents. He is his wife’s problem now. “So did your husband ever get to level 20?” “Oh no, it’s not always about progressing through the levels. I’m sure you’re aware that some adults aren’t ever going to grow up. They just need to stay as children. Sometimes they just find a level that is right for them. For my husband, it’s level 4. I can take him out as an adult, but he can only handle that for short periods. The rest of the time, he is my little diapered man.” Dr. Fels continued, “in reality, the R.A.D.S program isn’t really a linear program. It’s more to help families deal with regressed adults in a structure. Since they are really just little children in adult bodies, it makes sense to treat them as small children. We are just starting, but even those who eventually get out will probably still need some level of support. For most, just the threat of the program is enough to change their ways. Most cases we see don’t even qualify for a consultation. In those cases, we usually give the RA a deadline to gain some level of maturity, and show they can be self-sufficient, and over 80% meet the deadlines. And since they are adults, the RA must willingly submit to the program. Mind you, most of them have few alternatives. But this program can provide the structure that they need.” Jill was intrigued. She thought about her cases. She hoped that just the threat of living like this would be enough to mend Scott’s ways, and nearly positive that it would work with Chelsea. And even though Dr. Fels had strange methods, she was one of the most respected psychologists in the world. Jill would be working very closely with her, which is something that few people would ever get. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. “Has anybody ever graduated from this?” Dr. Fels then called in the receptionist. “Ms. William’s, can you come in here please?” The young lady came in and said, “Yes, Dr. Fels?” “What level are you at today, Debbie” Debbie immediately took on a juvenile tone. “I was at level 18, but I stayed up late and now have a bedtime. I’m hoping to get potty trained by Christmas.” Jill couldn’t help herself, “Are you wearing a diaper?” Debbie began to shake her head, hoping that Dr. Fels wouldn’t see. Dr. Fels lifted the back of Debbie’s skirt and Jill saw the plastic pants. She felt Debbie’s diaper. “Just a little damp, and no poopies.” Dr. Fels excused Debbie, and then explained. “Debbie has been with us for three years, and she’s been doing great. You can tell, she is a great employee. I’d start her on potty training, but I think Dr. Robert’s wants her to stay in diapers.” Dr. Fels finally asked, “Are you interested?” “Yes, it sounds fascinating. Just working with you would be fascinating.” “Well, before you say yes, I should let you know about training. The first step is to train you as a nanny, and that would require you to spend at least a week in the daycare.” “That sounds reasonable. I’d probably need to know how it works and working the daycare would be the best way.” The idea of changing an adult’s diaper wasn’t enough to dissuade Jill from this opportunity. But then Dr. Fels continued, “I’m sorry, but you wouldn’t start working in the nursery. You have to be regressed. We find that it helps nannies if they have experienced it. So, all employees must spend time in the nursery. Even me.” That definitely put a wrinkle in Jill’s plans. A full week in diapers and living as a four-year-old. But then the more she thought, the easier that answer seemed to be. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to work with Dr. Fels. And one week is nothing. It might even be relaxing. No responsibilities for a whole week. Finally, she emailed the institute: I accept the offer.

(God I hope this is in the right place this time ) Had no takers over on diaperedanime, so figured I'd try my luck here! Seeking rp partners for an X-men themed roleplay--ideas included below! (Note: these aren't set in stone, just suggestions for starting points and can be negotiated via PM!) I prefer multi-paragraphed posts with good grammar and spelling and absolutely love immersive narratives. I'm pretty flexible as to whether I'm the little or carer, provided that some effort goes into building up the overall story. Just PM me if you're interested! (Also note: Doesn't have to follow the comics. Not even remotely closely. ANY iteration/variation/universe welcome! Cartoons, movies, that one odd obscure spin-off in the 80's, you name it!) A few ideas to get things started: 1) Wolverine 'takes care' of Gambit --Remy LeBeau has never been the most 'open and honest' member of the X-Men, but despite the occasional guff here and there, Logan has never really thought much of it. That is, until one night he gets a call from higher-ups saying that Gambit's finally been caught and his luck is officially running out; either someone finds a way to fix this or the thief is going away for a very long time. Logan's parented many a troubled kidlet over the years--but never to such extremes as this. 2) --After the humiliation of having her beau-to-be walk out on her not just once, but twice, BellaDonna decides that if she can't keep Gambit as her husband, then having him as her humiliated little baby will do just nicely. Unfortunately, she doesn't count on anyone coming to his rescue, especially not the best tracker on the whole X-team; and while he's definitely going to save the cajun, Logan can't help tease him some for all the trouble gone through to get here. 3) --Gambit has trust issues: specifically, he finds it difficult to shake old habits and open up, yet still finds it frustrating to think that the others neither 'like' nor 'trust' him. As such, the cajun's been rather happy to act out a bit more than usual--from the occasional quip to outright skipping training and missions altogether. While the others are fed up, Wolverine is definitely much more of a no-nonsense type of guy; if Remy doesn't shape up and act his age then Logan's going to gladly fix it so he gets treated appropriately. Wolverine and Nightcrawler --Kurt Wagner has always been a sensitive little soul, despite his devilish appearance. Throughout his life, all he's longed for is companionship and acceptance; and while being part of the X-Men offers that to a degree, he still feels a sense of loss over a feeling he can't quite place. All Kurt can say for certain is that he dreads nighttime, because that's when the nightmares come--and there's only so many times he can run around at night carting wet sheets before Logan catches him. Wolverine and Cyclops --Logan and Scott have never seen eye to eye, literally. While Wolverine prefers to get right down to the heart of the matter, Scott finds it better to plan and think about what they're doing rather than rush in like a maniac; as such, they don't tend to share much about their personal lives to each other. That is, until after a minor plane failure on a routine scout-out that takes Scott by surprise makes Logan start asking some questions, specifically, about the soaking wet trunks the leader is suddenly sporting.