Search the Community

Chapter 1: This can't be real. "Ashley, did you remember to pack the camera for your sister?" Steve yelled while adding things to their car for their road trip. "Got it!" Ashley called back, lugging a heavy suitcase towards the car. She had packed meticulously, ensuring they had everything they needed for their week-long getaway. As she approached the car, she noticed Steve struggling with a large cooler. "Let me help you with that," she said, setting down the suitcase and moving to assist him. Together, they managed to load the cooler into the trunk, making space for the rest of their luggage. "Thanks, Ash," Steve said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Ashley smiled, feeling a warm sense of contentment. She loved moments like these, simple and mundane yet filled with a sense of togetherness. As they finished loading the car, Ashley glanced at the time. "We should get going if we want to make it to Sarah's before dark," she said, referring to her sister. "She's expecting us to drop off the camera today." Steve nodded, closing the trunk. "Let's hit the road, then. I can't wait to get to the cabin and relax." With everything packed and ready, they climbed into the car, the engine roaring to life as Steve turned the key. As they drove off, the sun shining brightly overhead, Ashley couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. It was their 4th year anniversary of dating each other. She was confident he was going to propose while out at the cabin. As they left the city, traffic grew heavier, and Steve, always the impatient one, decided to take a detour through the backroads to avoid the congestion. The scenic route wound through the mountains, offering breathtaking views of the rugged landscape. "Steve, do you know where we are going? We've never gone this way before to visit my sister." Ashley asked concerned they were going to be late. "Don't worry about it; the road has to connect at some point," he said nonchalantly. "If you say so," she replied, pulling out her phone. "Hey Sarah, we're going to be late. Steve is taking a new road this time. He's being his "adorable" self and refusing to listen to the GPS or his navigator, lol," Ashley texted her sister. Hours had gone by at this point, as they ascended higher into the mountains, their cell signal began to fade, eventually disappearing altogether. "I think we should turn back Steve," Ashley told him, concerned they might have gone too far without cell service. It's already been an hour since the last time she could do anything on her phone. Despite Ashley's protests, Steve assured her that they would soon find their way back to civilization. However, his optimism dwindled as the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the desolate road. With no cell service and no GPS to guide them. Steve admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe you're right. I'll stop at the next gas station or something and ask for directions." "Or, you know we could turn around?" "How? This road isn't wide enough for me to do that." They continued down the desolate road in silence; their nerves grew with each passing minute without an opportunity to turn back around. The fading light of dusk painted the landscape in eerie shadows, heightening their sense of isolation. Suddenly, with a sputter, their car lurched to a halt, billowing smoke from beneath the hood. Steve's heart sank as he stared at the dashboard, hoping for some sign of life from the engine. Only to see the check engine light and the red lining of the temperature gauge. The silence that followed was deafening. Ashley unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, stretching her legs and taking in their surroundings. She let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tapping anxiously on her phone, now displaying a bleak "No Service" message. "We should start walking," Steve said, forcing confidence into his voice as he opened the car door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. "Maybe there's a gas station or a house nearby where we can ask for help." Ashley nodded, though her eyes betrayed her growing unease. They began to walk up the road, the fading light casting long shadows ahead of them. The air was thick with the scent of pine trees and the distant hum of crickets. After what felt like an eternity, they came across an old, abandoned house nestled among the trees. The windows were boarded up, and the front porch sagged under the weight of neglect. Moss and leaflitter had overcome the roof nearly entirely. Ivy stretched up one side of the house threatening to overtake the decrepit structure. Steve hesitated, looking at the house and the setting sun, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a shroud. "We should keep going," he suggested, his voice tight with unease. Ashley hesitated an urgency in her bladder demanding her attention. "I have to go," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "And it's getting dark. We'll just go in, use the bathroom, and leave." Reluctantly, Steve nodded, his stomach churning with apprehension as they approached the crumbling porch. Couldn't she just go by a bush? The door creaked open with a rusty groan, revealing a dimly lit interior choked with dust and cobwebs. As they stepped inside, a chill wind whispered through the empty rooms, sending shivers down their spines. Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut. WHAM Ashley and Steve both jumped at the loud noise, turning to see the door closed. Steve nervously scanned the dimly lit interior, his hand instinctively reaching for Ashley's. "Must've been some strong wind," he muttered, trying to rationalize the sudden slamming of the door. Ashley nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to suppress the rising panic. "Yeah, let's just find the bathroom and get out of here," she agreed, her voice trembling slightly. Standing in the hallway, their senses were on high alert, every creak and groan of the old house setting their nerves on edge. Ashley was about to take another step down the hallway when a sudden movement caught her eye. Turning towards the source of the disturbance, she froze in terror as a figure emerged from the shadows—a grotesque, life-sized mannequin with hollow eyes and a frozen smile. "Welcome, little ones," it cooed, its voice like nails on a chalkboard. "It's time to play!" Steve and Ashley's hearts pounded in their chests as the figure began charging towards them frantically. Waving its arms about wildly. They froze on the spot, their minds unable to comprehend the surreal situation unfolding before them. Closing their eyes, they braced themselves for the inevitable. Suddenly, the mannequin's voice softened, sending a chill down their spines. "Uh-oh, looks like someone snuck their way out of the playroom," it said, its tone almost playful. "You two should know better. You wouldn't want to get in trouble, now would we?" Its smile widened to an unnatural length. Confused, Steve and Ashley cautiously opened their eyes. To their astonishment, the mannequin now loomed large before them, towering over them like a giant. The entire house had transformed, everything around them appearing larger than life. They were no longer their adult selves but had shrunk down to the size of toddlers, surrounded by oversized furniture and toys. Steve and Ashley blinked in disbelief, trying to make sense of their surreal surroundings. They realized that the abandoned house had undergone a dramatic transformation. What was once a decrepit, abandoned building now appeared pristine and inviting, as if frozen in time from its heyday as a bustling daycare center. The walls were painted in bright, cheerful colors and adorned with whimsical murals of smiling animals and playful children. Sunshine streamed in through large windows, casting warm, golden rays across the room, nothing like the outside they had just come from. Toys were neatly arranged in colorful bins, and child-sized furniture dotted the space. There was a cubby system across from the stairs in front of them, where kids hung their coats and placed their shoes. But despite the seemingly idyllic atmosphere, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The silence that filled the room was heavy with the weight of the unknown, and a creeping sense of dread clawed at the edges of their consciousness. "What... what's happening?" Ashley whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she clung to Steve's hand, her eyes wide with fear. Steve shook his head, his mind reeling with disbelief. "I-I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty and fear."This can't be real." The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Oh, but it is, my dears," it said, its eyes gleaming with an eerie light. "You're here to play, just like all the other little ones who came before you." As the realization of their predicament sank in, Ashley and Steve exchanged a terrified glance, their hearts pounding in their chests. They turned towards the door, desperate to escape, but to their horror, they found that the once easily reachable doorknob was now far beyond their grasp, towering above them like a monument to their helplessness. "We need to get out of here," Ashley cried, her voice tinged with panic as she tugged futilely at the door. "This can't be happening." Steve's mind raced, trying to make sense of their surreal situation. "There's no way out," his voice trembling with fear as he scanned the room for an escape route. The mannequin's voice cut through the air, sending a chill down their spines. "I'm afraid leaving is not an option, my dears," it said, its tone eerily calm. "You see, you're here to play, and play you shall." Steve and Ashley turned towards the mannequin, their eyes wide with fear and their backs pressed up against the door. It approached them, its towering figure casting a long shadow over them. Ashley's heart sank as she felt a warm trickle down her leg, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she was wetting her pants in fear. The mannequin chuckled, its voice echoing through the room. "Looks like someone had an accident," it said, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "No matter, we'll get you cleaned up in no time." With a swift motion, the mannequin scooped up Steve and Ashley in its enormous arms, carrying them away from the door and up the stairs into the daycare. Steve and Ashley struggled against its grip, but it was no use. They were at the mercy of the supernatural force that held them captive. As they were carried through the daycare, they passed by a room with empty cribs and playpens, their surroundings a surreal mix of childhood innocence and eerie abandonment. The mannequin brought them to a brightly lit room filled with changing tables and stacks of diapers, a hint to their new reality. "Now, now, little ones," the mannequin cooed, placing them on the changing tables. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for playtime." Steve and Ashley exchanged a terrified glance, their minds reeling with fear and confusion. How had they ended up in this nightmare? And more importantly, was there a way out? Chapter 2: Changed Steve's heart raced as he struggled against the firm grip of the mannequin, his muscles straining with effort. He twisted and turned, desperate to break free, but its hold on him was unyielding. Ashley, stunned by the event that had unfolded, froze. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaming down her face. But she made no sound, too shocked by the sudden events. "Let us go!" Steve shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "This isn't right! We need to leave!" But his words fell on deaf ears as the feminine figure carried them up the stairs, its movements slow and deliberate. Steve's heart sank as he realized the futility of their situation. They were at the mercy of a supernatural force, trapped in a nightmare. As they reached the top of the stairs, the mannequin carried them into a brightly lit room, the walls adorned with colorful murals of children's finger paintings. Some of them clearly cries for help, with large red letters on some of the drawings reading "LET ME GO" and "HELP!" Diaper boxes lined the walls, with two changing tables. One at the end of the wall, with a dresser adjacent to it. Across the room was a large playpen with nothing in it, almost like it was meant to be a holding cell. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Steve twisted and wiggled, managing to slip out of the mannequin's hold. He fell towards the ground, his heart pounding in his chest, only to be caught once again as the mannequin's grip tightened around him. As he dangled in the air, he met the mannequin's gaze, his eyes widening in terror as its face contorted into a grotesque expression before snapping back to its benign facade. The room around them seemed to warp and shift, along with its face. The walls pulsating with otherworldly energy. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before him. The mannequin's voice echoed in his mind, its words soft yet chilling. "You need to be more careful, little one," its tone syrupy sweet yet laced with menace. "You wouldn't want to get into trouble, would you?" Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "What do you want from us?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. But the mannequin remained silent, its painted lips curled into a twisted smile. With a flicker of movement, it released Steve from its grasp, setting him down into the playpen across from the table. "You need to wait your turn, young man," it whispered, sending shivers down Steve's spine. The mannequin then turned back to the table, placing Ashley on the changing table, its movements gentle. Ashley snapped out of her shock as she realized what the mannequin was trying to do. She started to struggle against its grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear gripping her. She watched in terror as the mannequin's hands reached for her, its touch cold and unnerving. With a swift motion, it began to undress her, stripping her of her clothes with a mechanical precision that sent shivers down her spine. "Please, let us go," Ashley pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. "We don't belong here. We just want to go home." The mannequin pressed Ashley to the changing table firmly, pulled out the straps, and tied her down to it. "I'm sorry, sweetie, only your parents can pick you up from the daycare. But It's okay; we'll take really good care of you until they get here." Its voice felt unsettling, ringing in their ears. It sounded sweet yet menacing. What is the deal with this thing? Ashley struggled against the restraints on the changing table, panic rising within her. Frantically, she attempted to undo the straps, her fingers fumbling with the buckles. "Steve, please help me!" she cried out, her voice choked with fear and desperation. But Steve was stuck in the playpen, his attempts to escape proving futile. He watched helplessly, clinging to the rim of the pen on his tiptoes, his heart aching with fear for Ashley. He watched in horror as her wet pants were removed and discarded. Ashley's eyes darted to her phone as it fell out of her pocket, a glimmer of hope flickering within her. But her hope was short-lived as the mannequin's voice filled the room, its tone stern and unsettling. "Phones are for grown-ups, little one," it admonished, its words echoing in her mind. "Children aren't allowed to play with them." With a deft movement, the mannequin picked up Ashley's phone and placed it on a shelf above the changing table, far out of her reach. Ashley's heart sank as she realized her only lifeline to the outside world was beyond her grasp. She quickly looked toward Steve, hoping he could find a way to hide his phone. Maybe they could use his to escape? As the mannequin continued to undress her, Ashley's mind raced with fear and uncertainty. She was truly at the mercy of this twisted entity, trapped in a nightmare from which she could not wake. Steve, seeing how it handled the situation with the phone and the look Ashley gave him, began to look for a place he could stash his. He knew he had to do something, anything, to keep it away from it. But as he looked around the room, all he saw was the colorful murals and the ominous diaper boxes lining the walls. Steve looked back at Ashley, meeting her gaze. He was shocked to his core. The mannequin had completely stripped her down. She was naked! Mortification and frustration boiled within him. No one was allowed to do that to her except him! Fear set in as he realized, however, that there was no way he could hide his phone on himself, not with it stripping them down to their birthday suits. He could see her face bright red with humiliation from what was unfolding. The mannequin then reached down to the shelf right below the table Ashley was on, grabbing a rectangular object that looked to be folded. "There we go, all clean now. Time to get you dressed for the day. Now, do you want to wear the princesses or the flowers, deary?" The mannequin was holding two diapers, both in bright pink. Ashley started to scream. "No! No! No! You can't do this! I don't want to wear a diaper! No!" She screamed, her pleas falling on deaf ears. "Calm down, sweetie. You'll be able to get back to playing in no time." The mannequin placed the pink flower diaper on the shelf below, setting it aside for another time. "We'll go with princesses today for the little princess who played dress up." The mannequin unfolded the diaper and lifted Ashley's legs up to slide the diaper under her bare butt. Ashley's eyes flooded with tears. Here she was, a 23-year-old woman getting put in a diaper. Every second felt painstakingly slow. She felt the mannequin lower her back onto the diaper. It was shockingly soft, softer than she would have expected. The mannequin pulled the front of the diaper up, covering her privates. The bulkiness of the material was hard to ignore. Finally, it reached to the side to grab the tape and, one by one, taped the diaper around her waist. "There we go, nice fresh diaper for the little miss. I got the perfect outfit for you, too." The mannequin cooed lovingly as if it was playing dress-up with a doll. "Here we are!" It held out a bright pink frilly dress romper. It had a zipper at the back, making it hard for little ones to remove it independently. The mannequin slid the romper up Ashley's legs, getting her feet through the leg holes, pulling up as far as it could with her still lying down. It then unbuckled her, standing her up, placing her arms through the arm holes, and finally zippering up the back to hold it all in place. "Don't you look pretty?" The mannequin smiled with a genuine smile of satisfaction at how cute she looked. Steve had a clear line of sight to Ashley; she looked just like a toddler, and even her chest looked flat in that dress. "No!" Steve shouted, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I won't let you do this to us! We're not children! We're adults, damn it!" The mannequin's painted lips twisted into a scowl at Steve's outburst, its eyes narrowing with displeasure. With a slow, deliberate movement, it turned its head away from Ashley, whose eyes were filled with terror at the sight of the mannequin's face. Slowly, it turned its head towards Steve, its expression morphing into a grotesque visage that sent shivers down his spine. "Young man, we do not use such language in this daycare," the mannequin's voice rang out, icy and menacing. "You must learn to behave yourself. Such attitudes will not be tolerated." Before Steve could react, the mannequin twisted its body and charged toward him with surprising speed, its movements unnaturally swift. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the impact, his mind racing with fear and desperation. The mannequin's cold hands closed around him. With a sudden, violent motion, the mannequin lifted Steve into the air, its grip unyielding. Steve struggled against its hold, his muscles straining with effort, but it was futile. The mannequin's strength was beyond human, its power seemingly limitless. As Steve dangled in the air, his mind raced with fear and desperation. He cast a frantic glance towards Ashley, his eyes pleading for her help. But Ashley could only watch helplessly, her heart pounding in her chest. Thinking fast, Steve seized the opportunity to act. With a quick, desperate motion, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, his fingers closing around the familiar device. With a swift motion, he hurled it towards Ashley. Ashley's eyes widened in surprise as she caught the phone, her fingers trembling with adrenaline. She tucked it into the front of her dress, securely held in place between the soft fabric and her squished chest, concealing it from view. Her heart raced with hope as she realized they might have a chance to escape this nightmare after all. As Ashley quickly jumped off the changing table, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt the frilly fabric of the romper swish around her legs with each step. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, the soft material tickling her skin. But there was no time to dwell on her discomfort; Steve's safety was her top priority. With determination blazing in her eyes, Ashley sprinted towards Steve, her feet stumbling slightly on the unfamiliar terrain of the daycare floor. Every movement felt exaggerated in the oversized romper, the ruffles bouncing with each step. As she neared, she could see the fear etched on Steve's face, his eyes pleading for her help. Without hesitation, she raised her foot and delivered a swift, powerful kick to the back of the mannequin's knee. The impact sent a jolt of pain shooting up her leg, but she ignored it, focusing all her strength on the task at hand. The mannequin let out a mechanical groan as its artificial joints buckled beneath the force of Ashley's blow. It stumbled forward, its grip on Steve loosening as it struggled to maintain its balance. For a brief moment, it teetered on the brink of collapse, its plastic limbs flailing wildly as it fought to regain its footing. Seizing the opportunity, Steve wriggled free from the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he stumbled backward, his limbs trembling with exertion. He cast a grateful glance towards Ashley, his eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Together, they watched as the mannequin stumbled forward, its balance precarious. The mannequin teetered on the brink of falling, its arms flailing wildly. Steve and Ashley exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors of the daycare. Behind them, the mannequin let out a mechanical screech of rage, its eyes glowing with malevolent fury as it gave chase. The world around them had warped again, back to its abandoned state, the facade of the daycare gone. Terrified, Steve and Ashley refused to look back. As Ashley and Steve descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence, a sense of urgency gripped them. They dared a quick glance back and saw the mannequin, now moving on all fours with unnerving speed, closing the distance between them. Panic surged through their veins, propelling them forward faster. But in their haste, they failed to watch their surroundings. Without warning, they collided with something solid, sending them both sprawling to the ground. As they recovered from the impact and looked up, they were met with the sight of another mannequin, different from the menacing one chasing them. This mannequin had a soft, caring smile, its eyes filled with warmth and understanding. It seemed to radiate a sense of calm amidst the chaos surrounding them. The daycare around them had transformed once again, returning to its pristine state, as if nothing had happened. As the new mannequin approached, its soft, caring smile seemed to put Ashley and Steve at ease, despite their recent ordeal. They scrambled to their feet, their eyes flickering between the two mannequins, unsure of what to expect. "It looks like we've had some runaways," the new mannequin said with a chuckle, its voice soothing and gentle. It then turned, looking back upstairs to the other mannequin. "Are you alright, Nyxara?" Nyxara, the once-menacing mannequin at the top of the stairs, now stood in its pristine form, its grotesque and menacing presence seemingly erased. It smiled warmly down at the new mannequin, its eyes filled with a sense of relief. "Yes, I'm alright, Elysia," Nyxara replied, her voice now calm and reassuring. "Thank you for the assistance. These two are a bit more... rowdy." Elysia knelt down in front of Steve and Ashley, her expression kind and gentle. "You two shouldn't run off like that," she said softly. "You could get hurt. But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to keep you safe and entertained until your mommies and daddies come back to pick you up." Steve and Ashley exchanged a puzzled glance. "Mommy and Daddy?" Steve repeated, his voice tinged with confusion. "What are you talking about? We're not children," Steve protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "We're adults. We don't need babysitters." Elysia giggled at Steve's protest, her smile never faltering. "Oh, sweetie, you only think you're an adult because of playing dress-up," she said gently. "But don't worry Nyxara and I are here to take care of you now. It's time to change back into your proper clothes." Elysia picked Steve up, cradling him in her arms as she headed back upstairs. Steve struggled against her hold, his protests growing louder. "No, let me go! I'm not a child!" he cried, his voice filled with frustration and fear. Nyxara descended the stairs. Her gaze fell upon Ashley, who stood frozen in fear. Her heart sank. She watched in despair as the figure approached, its arms outstretched, ready to pick her up. Ashley instinctively stepped back, her eyes pleading for mercy, but it's expression remained unchanged, it's smile warm but unwavering. With a gentle yet firm grip, the monster like creature scooped Ashley into its arms, her touch surprisingly warm for a mannequin. Ashley's heart raced as she was carried away. She looked over her captor's shoulder, locking eyes with Steve, who was now in Elysia's care, being comforted in a way that made him feel embarrassed and frustrated. They reached out to each other, their hands stretching towards one another, but the distance between them grew with each passing step. Steve's protests grew louder as Elysia cooed soothing words to him, attempting to calm his fears. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart," Elysia murmured, rocking Steve gently in her arms. "There's no need to cry. I'm here to take care of you." Steve's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being treated like a baby. Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying his facade of maturity. As Nyxara carried Ashley away, her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the daycare. She reached out desperately towards Steve, but he was already out of sight. Hearing the girl's cry about losing her friend she was playing dress-up with. Nyxara reassured the girl. "There, there, dear," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't cry. You'll see your friend again soon. But for now, let's go play with the other kids, shall we?" An innocent smile full of warmth grew on her face, feeling as if she was doing a good job taking care of the latest additions to the daycare. Chapter 3: Newfound Friends As Ashley was carried away, her mind raced with fear and confusion. She struggled against the mannequin's grip, but it was futile. She felt helpless, at the mercy of these strange and otherworldly beings. Nyxara held Ashley tightly as she stepped down the corridors of the daycare, eventually arriving at a brightly lit room filled with toys and games. Ashley's eyes widened in wonder and confusion as she took in her surroundings. The room seemed frozen in time, as if it was newly constructed or renovated, pristine in every aspect. As Nyxara gently set Ashley down on the floor, Ashley's eyes widened in shock as her gaze fell upon two figures sitting in the corner of the room. One was a woman who looked younger than herself, with long brown hair and a worried expression. The other was a middle-aged man with a rugged appearance and a look of resignation in his eyes. Both were the same small size as her and Steve, smaller than any average adult could be. Ashley approached them cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked panicly "Do you know where that thing took Steve? Do you know a way out?" The young woman and the man exchanged glances before shaking their heads. They remained silent, their eyes darting nervously towards the door. It was as if they were afraid to speak, as if there would be consequences. Frustrated by their silence, Ashley pressed on. "Please, you have to tell me something," she pleaded. "We need to find a way out of here. Do you know anything about this place? Who are those mannequins? What do they want with us?" They both remained silent, but the man slowly reached out and picked up a few toy blocks. With a deliberate motion, he arranged them on the floor to spell out two words: S-H-U-T U-P. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Was he trying to warn her? Was he telling her to stop asking questions? Before she could react, Nyxara approached, her expression stern. "It's not polite to ask too many questions," Nyxara scolded gently, her tone surprisingly motherly. "We're here to play and have fun. Isn't that right, Kelly, Nick?" Kelly and Nick nodded in agreement, their expressions filled with a mixture of fear and acceptance. It was clear that they were afraid of Nyxara and what she might do if they disobeyed. Feeling defeated, Ashley backed away, her mind racing with unanswered questions. She glanced back towards the stairs, where Steve had disappeared, and felt a pang of sadness and longing. They were trapped in this nightmarish daycare, at the mercy of forces they couldn't understand or control. Ashley's heart raced as she looked back towards the man, who had spelled out "Shut up" with the toy blocks just moments ago. With trembling hands, she picked up the blocks and arranged them to spell out her name: A-S-H-L-E-Y. She held her breath, waiting for a response. Nick's eyes widened in surprise as he read her name spelled out in the blocks. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before rearranging the blocks to form his name: N-I-C-K Relief flooded through Ashley as she realized she had made a connection with one of the other trapped individuals. She felt a glimmer of hope that Nick might have some answers or insights into their situation. Gathering her courage, she formed another question with the blocks: W-H-E-R-E S-T-E-V-E. Nick's brow furrowed in concentration as he rearranged the blocks once more. With painstaking effort, he spelled out: M-O-T-H-E-R U-P-S-T-A-I-R-S. Ashley's stomach churned with unease at the mention of Steve being with the mannequin upstairs. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since they arrived at the daycare. What was happening to Steve? Was he safe? And what did Nick mean by "mother"? Before Ashley could ask any of her questions, Nick hurriedly scrambled the blocks, erasing the words he had just spelled out, as the mannequin approached to check on them. Nyxara's expression softened as she observed the trio, a smile playing on her lips. "It warms my heart to see you all getting along," Nyxara said, her voice tinged with an eerie sweetness. "Isn't it wonderful to have friends to play with?" Ashley forced a smile, nodding weakly as she tried to suppress the rising anger within her. Luckily the mannequin didn't stick around, it was satisfied at their nods. Ashley glanced at the young woman sitting in the corner, who was curiously watching them. Feeling a sense of determination, Ashley approached the girl, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi, I'm Ashley," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hesitantly reached for the toy blocks scattered on the floor. With trembling hands, she arranged the blocks to spell out her name: K-E-L-L-Y. "Kelly," Ashley repeated, nodding in acknowledgment. "Do you know anything about this place? How did you end up here?" Kelly's expression grew somber as she shook her head, her eyes filled with sorrow. She seemed reluctant to speak, as if afraid of what might happen if she spoke too much. "Alright kiddies, you be good, I'm only going to be a minute." the menacing mannequin smiled, looking at the three of them in the corner. "It's snack time, and I bet you all are getting hungry" as it left the room to fetch snacks, Nick and Kelly leaned in close to Ashley, speaking in hushed whispers. "We don't have much time," Nick said, his voice urgent. "We need to be careful. Nyxara is very easy to anger. She's the one who decides when we get punished, and trust me, the simplest of things can set her off." "How long have you been here?" Ashley asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Nick glanced around nervously before replying, "I've lost track of time, but I think it's been about ten years. Kelly here has been here for a few weeks, I think." Kelly nodded, confirming Nick's words. "Yeah, it's been a few weeks. I... I don't know how much longer I can take this." "What do they want with us?" Ashley whispered, her voice trembling with fear at the realization that someone had been here for so long already. What hopes do they have to escape if someone who's been here ten years still hasn't found a way out? Nick glanced towards the door once more before answering. "I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I've seen what happens to those who disobey. It's not pretty. We have to follow their rules if we want to survive." "What rules?" Ashley asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do we need to do to survive?" Nick continued to glance around nervously before answering each question. "First, we need to play along. Act like children, do what they say, and don't ask too many questions. Second, don't try to leave the daycare. The doors are locked, and if Nyxara catches you trying to escape... She'll punish you." Kelly added, "And whatever you do, don't anger Elysia. She's the other mannequin, the one who acts like a mother to us. She can be kind, but if she thinks you're a threat to the 'children,' she'll become... violent. That's how we lost David." Her eyes trailed off, a look of pure terror at whatever had taken place. Ashley's head spun with the weight of this new information. She had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. "What about Steve?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Is he in danger?" Before they could discuss further, Nyxara returned with a tray of snacks. She set it down in front of them, her smile bright and unnerving. "Here you go, my little ones," she said sweetly. "Enjoy your snacks, and remember to behave." Nick, with a forced smile plastered on his face, musters up a small voice, "Th-thank you, Miss Nyxara, for the snacks." He mimics the behavior of a grateful child, hoping to appease the unsettling presence before them. Kelly and Ashley remain silent, their expressions a mix of apprehension and obedience. Nyxara's smile widens at Nick's words, her eyes gleaming with an eerie delight. "You're welcome, sweetie," she coos, her tone saccharine yet tinged with an underlying threat. With a final glance at the trio, she turns and leaves to check on Steve, Nick leaned in closer to Ashley, his expression grave. "We need to be careful," Nick whispered urgently. "Elysia is different from Nyxara. She's... she's more motherly, but her love can be suffocating. She wants us to be her children and will do anything to she can to mother us, even if that means..." Nick's voice trailed off, but Ashley understood the implication. Elysia's protection could easily turn into possessiveness and violence. Just then, the door creaked open, and Steve was brought in by Elysia. His clothes had changed, now fitting for a toddler, and his expression was filled with concern. Ashley's heart sank at the sight of him, wondering what horrors he had endured. Steve glanced around the room, his eyes widening in shock as they landed on Ashley and the other two. He tried to speak, but he lost his words, realizing the mannequin was still there. Ashley rushed to his side, embracing him tightly, trying to offer him some comfort in this terrifying situation. "What... what is going on? Who are they?" Steve managed to stammer out, his voice trembling with fear. Ashley quickly explained what she had learned about the daycare from Nick. The little bit she learned about the two mannequins Nyxara, and Elysia, emphasizing the need to play along and not provoke the mannequins. Steve listened intently, his expression filled with disbelief and horror. As Ashley held Steve tightly, her mind raced with concern and questions. She wanted to know what had happened to him, what he had seen or experienced since they were separated. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the fear and embarrassment reflected in them. "What happened to you, Steve?" Ashley whispered, her voice filled with concern. "Are you okay?" Steve shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. "It's... it's basically the same thing that happened to you." Ashley felt a pang of sympathy for him. She knew how humiliating and degrading their experiences had been, forced to dress like toddlers, and placed in a diaper. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Steve's voice trembled as he looked into Ashley's eyes, desperation evident in his gaze. "Ashley, do you still have my phone?" he asked, trying to change the subject from their dire situation. Both Kelly and Nick's eyes widened at the question, their expressions mirroring Steve's hope. Ashley's mind raced as she remembered the phone tucked away in her dress, pinned to her chest between her breasts. She had completely forgotten about it in the chaos of their situation. "Yes, I still have it!" Ashley exclaimed, relief flooding through her. Steve's eyes lit up with hope. Ashley went to reach into her dress for it but stopped seeing Nick and Kelly looking at her. Feeling embarrassed, she turned around so her back faced them, providing a little privacy as she retrieved the phone from her dress. She handed it over to Steve so he could unlock his phone. Praying that there is a signal. They got into this whole mess because there wasn't any reception. What would be the odds of them having a signal now, of all times? The group huddled together, their hearts racing with a newfound hope as Steve unlocked his phone and discovered a single little bar. Each of them voiced their opinions on who Steve should contact for help. "We should call the police," Nick suggested, his voice filled with urgency. "They can come and rescue us from this nightmare." Ashley shook her head, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. "If we place a call they'll notice right away," she whispered. "We can't lose our chance if it catches us before we make contact." Steve furrowed his brow in thought, weighing their options carefully. "What about your sister, Sarah?" he suggested, turning to Ashley. "She might be able to help us without alerting anyone else." Ashley's eyes widened in realization. "That's a good idea," she said, agreeing. "Sarah knows about our trip and could come looking for us if we don't show up. Plus, she's close by and won't attract too much attention." With their decision made, Steve quickly drafted a distress message to Sarah, explaining their situation in as much detail as possible without trying to sound too crazy by revealing too much about the supernatural elements of their predicament. They debated the wording, making sure to convey the urgency of their situation on how they have been effectively kidnapped, and are being held hostage with no way of escape or being able to contact the athorities. But before they could hit send, a shadow began to loom over them. Nyxara's voice filled the room, her tone laced with anger and suspicion. "What are you kids up to?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the phone in Steve's hand. "What are you doing with that?" Nyxara demanded, her voice cold and menacing. "You know you're not allowed to have that. Give it to me, now." Steve hesitated, clutching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew they couldn't let Nyxara take it, but he also knew that defying her would have consequences. Before he could make a decision, Nyxara lunged forward, grabbing for the phone. Steve and Ashley struggled to keep it out of her reach, but Nyxara was too strong. With a swift motion, she snatched the phone from Steve's hand. "You disobedient children," Nyxara scolded, her voice filled with anger. "You know the rules. No phones. Those are for adults only!" You'll both be punished for this." Steve and Ashley exchanged worried glances, seeing the mannequin's face warp along with the daycare. Realizing they had just made a dangerous enemy. They knew they would have to be more careful than ever if they wanted to escape the daycare and survive. Before Steve could even formulate a response, Elysia intervened, her voice calm yet firm as she stepped forward to defend the frightened group of "children." "Now, now, Nyxara," Elysia interjected, her tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Perhaps they were simply trying to decide what to do with the phone. After all, they are just children, and it's natural for them to be curious." Nyxara's eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced by Elysia's defense of the children. However, after a moment of tense silence, she seemed to relent. With a final glare at Steve and Ashley, she turned and headed upstairs, taking the phone with her. Steve and Ashley let out a sigh of relief, grateful for Elysia's intervention. However, they knew they had narrowly avoided a dangerous situation. They needed to be more cautious. Nick, seeing an opportunity to gain favor, turned to Elysia with a forced smile. "Thank you, Miss Elysia," he said, his voice filled with false cheerfulness. "We'll be sure to behave and not cause any more trouble." Elysia nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Of course, my dear," she replied, her tone soothing. "Just remember, we're all here to play and have fun. Now, why don't you all go and enjoy your snacks? I'm sure you must be hungry." Nick nodded obediently, then turned to Ashley and Steve, a look of concern on his face. "Did you manage to send the message?" he asked quietly. Steve shook his head, a look of disappointment crossing his features. "No, I couldn't," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "It took the phone before I could hit send." The whole group hung their head in defeat, now what are they going to do? They slowly began to shuffle their feet over towards the little table that sat in the playroom where their snacks were located. Suddenly, Steve doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach as a sharp pang shot through his abdomen. Ashley's eyes widened in alarm as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with worry. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Chapter 4: A Bottle?! *Steve's point of view when they separated* Steve struggled against the mannequin's grasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He was filled with embarrassment, fear, and confusion. This couldn't be happening. They were adults, not children. But the more he protested, the tighter it held him, its comforting words trying to soothe him only made him angrier and angrier at the situation he found himself in. As they reached the top of the stairs, Steve's protests grew more desperate. "Please, let me go! We're not children!" he pleaded, but its smile remained unfazed. It carried him back into the changing room, lined with diaper boxes and changing tables. Setting him down gently on a changing table, it cooed, "It's time to get you cleaned up and changed, sweetie." Steve's face burned with embarrassment as it began to undress him, revealing his boxer briefs underneath his pants. He tried to resist, but its gentle yet firm touch made it impossible. It secured him to the table just as the other mannequin did with Ashley. He was stuck now; the straps were locked in a way that refused to budge for him, no matter how hard he tried. Steve refused just to let this happen; he refused to get diapered like Ashley. He threw his body around as much as he could in hopes of making it impossible for the mannequin to diaper him, but it was no use. It just proceeded as if dealing with a difficult child. It just continued to change Steve, cooing softly, "Oh, you must be hungry, that's why you're so fussy. Don't worry. We'll get you something to fill your belly after this." Steve's eyes widened with terror. If they were willing to diaper them because they thought they were children, what would it try to feed them? Not only that, but these things are otherworldly, who knows what this food even was. His embarrassment deepened further as he realized the mannequin was treating him like a toddler in need of care. With gentle efficiency, it removed Steve's shirt. He felt humiliated and helpless as it changed him and expertly fastened a fresh diaper around his waist. He tried to maintain his composure, but the situation was too surreal. He was a grown man being treated like a toddler, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then, he saw it grab a yellow duck onesie and a pair of tiny jean overalls, completing his transformation from a grown man to a toddler-like figure. As it finished diapering him, it smiled warmly. "There, now you're ready to play," it said cheerfully. "But first, let's get you that bottle" Before Steve could protest, it lifted him off of the changing table, and back into it's arms carrying him out of the room. Steve's mind raced with thoughts of escape, but his body was powerless against the mannequin's strength. It brought him into the nursery across the hall from the changing room. The room was filled with colorful toys, soft blankets, and a row of cribs along one wall. The mannequin placed Steve in one of the cribs before moving to the mini fridge in the corner. Steve watched in disbelief as the mannequin retrieved a bottle from the fridge and placed it in a bottle warmer. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was a grown man, trapped in a nightmare where he was being treated like a helpless child. Steve's heart pounded as he watched the mannequin move about the nursery, his mind racing with desperation. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of a way out, but all he saw were rows of cribs, the mini fridge in the corner, a sink, locked cabinets, and the imposing figure of the mannequin looming over him. There were no windows, other doors, or vents they could climb through. This room was a secure prison designed strictly for sleeping. His eyes flicked to the bars of the crib, his stomach churning with frustration. The bars were far too high for him to be able to climb out. He could try to get up and out, but realistically he knew doing so now, would be pointless, the mannequin would catch him, after taking two steps, there was no way he could escape it. How could they possibly escape this nightmare? It seemed like every avenue was blocked, every attempt at resistance futile. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his panic at bay. The mannequin returned to his side, a warm bottle in its hand, a sickly sweet smell emanating from its contents. Steve recoiled instinctively, his throat constricting with revulsion. He had no idea what was in that bottle, but he knew he couldn't trust it. The mannequin offered the bottle to Steve with a gentle smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Drink up. It's just warm milk," it cooed. Steve's eyes widen in worry. He is lactose intolerant, he can't drink milk, it messes with his stomach. He stood there staring at the mannequin, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to play with this twisted game, but he was also trapped in a crib too tall to escape from. The mannequin's smile faltered slightly as it noticed Steve's hesitation. "Come on now, sweetie," it urged, its tone still gentle but with a hint of impatience. "Don't be difficult. You need to drink your milk like a good little boy." Steve's mind raced as he weighed his options. Drinking the milk could have serious consequences for his lactose intolerance, but defying the mannequin could lead to unknown punishments or further confinement. Trapped in the crib with no means of escape, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. With a heavy heart, Steve reluctantly reached out for the bottle, his fingers trembling as he accepted it from the mannequin's grasp. The sickly, sweet smell assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn with unease. He glanced up at the mannequin, silently pleading for mercy, but its expression remained unmoved. As Steve slowly brought the bottle to his lips, he hesitated again, his inner turmoil evident in his furrowed brow. The mannequin's patience wore thin, and with a firm yet gentle grip, it lifted him from the crib and settled him in its arms, cradling him against its rigid form. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as he found himself ensnared in the mannequin's embrace, his muscles tense with apprehension. He wanted to resist, to fight against the unnatural force that held him captive, but he knew it was futile. He was at the mercy of the mannequin's whims, powerless to defy its will. Settling into a rocking chair, the mannequin began to sway back and forth, its movements rhythmic and soothing. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he felt the bottle pressed against his lips, the warmth of the liquid seeping through the bottle's nipple. With a sense of resignation, Steve reluctantly began to drink the milk. Each swallow was a struggle, his mind riveting at the thought of what it might do to his body. But the mannequin showed no signs of relenting, its grip unyielding as it forced him to consume the entire contents of the bottle. Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he fought against the urge to retch. He felt like a helpless child being fed against his will, stripped of his autonomy and dignity. But no matter how much he resisted, the mannequin's hold remained firm, its eerie presence casting a shadow over him. As he sucked down the milk, the mannequin sat there, holding him. Staring into his eyes, lovingly watching him with a maternal gaze. "There, there, everything will be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. Steve continued to drink the milk, feeling defeated and helpless in the mannequin's arms. As he reluctantly finished the bottle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The other mannequin from earlier, the one that took Ashley away, the darker and more menacing mannequin, entered the nursery, causing Steve's heart to race with fear. Its presence was unnerving, its cold, lifeless eyes scanning the room. Steve couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as he realized Ashley was missing from its side. Its gaze lingered on Steve briefly, sending a shiver down his spine before it turned to the mannequin holding him. "Elysia, the snacks for the kids are out," it stated in a gravelly voice, its tone devoid of warmth or emotion. Elysia, the mannequin holding him, smiled warmly. "Thank you, Nyxara. This one has already had his bottle, so he might not eat much," she replied, motioning towards Steve. Nyxara nodded silently before turning and leaving the nursery. Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that it had left without incident. The mannequin holding him then carried Steve downstairs to join the other "children." As they descended the stairs, Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ashley, among others who had been transformed into childlike figures. She looked just as bewildered and frightened as he felt. Chapter 5: A Messy Situation Steve's face contorted in pain as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ashley's heart raced with worry as she rushed to his side, her hands trembling with concern. "Steve, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with alarm. "What's wrong?" Steve tried to brush off the issue, but his voice was strained with discomfort. "I-I'm fine, Ash," he mumbled, his face pale with pain. "It'll probably pass." But the sharp pang in his abdomen refused to be ignored. Steve's attempts to downplay the situation only made Ashley more concerned. She reached out to touch his forehead, checking for signs of fever, but before she could say anything, Elysia approached them, her eyes filled with concern. "What's the matter, little one?" Elysia asked, her voice gentle as she knelt beside Steve. "Are you feeling unwell?" Steve winced as Elysia's hand touched his forehead, her touch sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to pull away, but the figure's other hand shot out and clenched his bicep. She tilted her head, studying him with curiosity and concern. "What did you do to him!?" Ashley interjected, her voice filled with worry and panic. "He was fine before you took him upstairs." Elysia did not regard Ashley's concern, and her expression was sympathetic. "Poor thing," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "It must be hard for you, being away from your mommy and daddy." She completely ignored Ashley's questioning. Steve felt frustrated at the creature's words, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He didn't want to admit to Ashley that he was fed a bottle like a baby, but he couldn't stand the thought of being talked down like he was a child. He tried to protest, to tell it that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated like one, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded weakly, unable to meet it's gaze. Elysia's eyes softened with compassion as she reached out to pat Steve's back, her touch surprisingly comforting despite the circumstances. "There, there, little one," she murmured, her voice soothing. "Don't worry. Elysia is here to take care of you." But as Elysia tried to comfort him, Steve's stomach lurched with increasing intensity, sending waves of nausea coursing through his body. He gasped in pain, his face contorted with discomfort as he struggled to hold back the building pressure in his bowels. "I-I need to use the bathroom," Steve managed to stammered out, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, I need to go..." But Elysia seemed oblivious to Steve's distress, focusing solely on comforting him. She reached out to pick him up, her touch gentle as she lifted him into her arms. Steve's stomach churned with unease as she began to rock him back and forth, her movements only making the pressure in his bowels harder to hold in. "Shh, shh, it's okay, little one," Elysia murmured, her voice soothing yet distant. "Everything will be alright, you'll see." But Steve knew he couldn't wait any longer. The urge to use the bathroom was becoming unbearable. He struggled to break free from Elysia's grasp, his voice trembling with urgency. "I-I need to go," he insisted, his voice strained with desperation. "Please, let me go..." But Elysia seemed unable to understand Steve's words, and her focus was solely on comforting him. Steve's heart sank as he realized he was running out of time. Steve's stomach cramps intensified, and his eyes darted around the room in a panic. He caught sight of the other male in the group, unable to recall his name. His eyes were wide with understanding. Steve knew he must know why Elysia wasn't responding to his pleas. Steve recalled being told that the other man had been here longer; he must have learned how the mannequins responded and worked. But the man said nothing. Steve's desperation grew as he realized he couldn't hold on much longer. He wanted to reach out and beg for help, but he hesitated, unsure of what they might do or, more accurately, what they could do. These things were huge in comparison to them. Steve's face twisted in agony as the pressure in his bowels reached its breaking point. With a sickening realization, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer. His stomach clenched with a force he couldn't contain, and before he could even register what was happening, he felt the warmth spreading in his diaper. A warm, mushy sensation filled his diaper, the smell hitting him almost instantly. He gasped, mortified, as he accidentally shit himself for the first time since he was a kid. The hot, mushy diarrhea surged forth, filling the confines of his diaper with a sickening squelch. Steve's cheeks burned with humiliation as it was happening, his body betraying him in the most mortifying way possible. He whimpered in shame, unable to stop the humiliating torrent of mess. "O-oh no..." Steve whimpered, his voice filled with shame and embarrassment. He could feel the mess spreading, the diaper growing heavy and uncomfortable against his skin. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Elysia, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Ashley's eyes widened in shock and horror as she watched Steve's distress unfold before her. The pained expression on his face, coupled with the sickening realization of what was happening, sent a wave of nausea churning in her stomach. She took a step back, her hands instinctively covering her mouth to stifle a gasp of disbelief. Kelly, who had been observing the scene with a mixture of concern and fear, recoiled slightly at the smell that filled the air. Her eyes darted between Steve and Ashley, a small look of disgust crossing her features. But beneath the disgust, there was a flicker of embarrassment, a memory resurfacing in her mind. Elysia's gentle teasing cut through the air, her voice light yet mocking. "Oh dear, it seems little Steve had a little accident," she remarked, her tone almost sing-song. "Such a messy little one, aren't you?" Steve's cheeks burned with shame as Elysia's words sank in. He could feel the weight of his messy diaper pressing against him, the warmth and smell serving as a reminder of his humiliating predicament. He wanted to protest, to tell Elysia that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be treated as such, but the words caught in his throat. How could he even say that when he was in her arms in a dirty diaper? Elysia's demeanor shifted slightly as she continued to speak, her voice softer yet tinged with authority. "It's alright, little one," she said. "We'll have to get you cleaned up and changed. But first, let's get you something to drink and some snacks. That should give you plenty of time to finish anything else still in your belly," she giggled. Steve could only stare at it in disbelief; not only did this thing just force him to shit himself, but it was going to make him stay in it till it deemed he could be changed! His cheeks burned with shame and resentment. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable squishiness of his diaper. But the smell, the warmth, it was all too much. He felt like a helpless child, unable to control his own body. Elysia set him back down on the ground, her touch seemed surprisingly gentle and caring despite the humiliating situation. Steve felt a rush of relief as he was freed from her grasp, but it was short-lived. The reality of his messy diaper felt like a ton of bricks, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Steve's gaze fell on Ashley as his tormentor turned away to attend to something else. Her expression was a mix of shock, disgust, and pity. Steve felt a lump form in his throat as he realized how she must see him now, as a helpless, soiled child. He wanted to explain, to tell her it was because of the milk, but the words were stuck in his throat. He was too embarrassed and in shock to say anything. He stood there in front of the others, feeling utterly humiliated and vulnerable, his mind flooded with embarrassment. His stomach still churned from being forced to consume milk, but now embarrassment added to his discomfort. He desperately wished he could disappear, to escape from this nightmare. But trapped in this bizarre reality, there was nowhere to run, no way to hide from the humiliation. Ashley hovered nearby, her expression torn between concern for Steve and disgust at the situation. She wanted to comfort and reassure him that everything would be alright, but seeing him in a messy diaper was too much to bear. She glanced at Nick and Kelly, silently pleading for some form of understanding or support. Nick's gaze met Ashley's, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of empathy in his eyes. But before she could say anything, the mannequin returned, interrupting the tense silence with her cheerful demeanor. "Alright, little ones, that's enough dilly-dallying. Go eat your snacks." Elysia chirped, her voice bubbly as she set a high chair tray of snacks on the table next to their snacks. "I've got some yummy treats for you all to enjoy." The figure ushered them towards the table. Ashley looked at Steve sympathetically, her heart aching for him. But as they approached the table, her attention was diverted by a bottle of milk sitting next to the highchair. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god," Ashley whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of Elysia bustling around. "Steve, the milk... That's why..." Steve's eyes went wide with horror as he realized there was another bottle of milk. His stomach was still agitated from the first bottle; what would a second one do to his stomach and bowels? The thought of drinking it now, in his current state, filled him with dread and disgust. Especially with others around. He couldn't, not again. But before he could do anything, Elysia approached him with the bottle, her smile bright and cheerful. "Here you go, little one," she said, her voice sweet yet tinged with authority. "A nice bottle of milk to help keep you hydrated. Isn't that nice?" Steve's stomach churned with unease as he stared at the bottle, his mind racing with fear. He wanted to refuse, to push it away, or at least tell them he couldn't drink milk. But the fear of what would happen if he was difficult for them kept him frozen. Until his brain finally kicked back in. Desperate for escape, Steve made a sudden dash towards the door, his heart pounding with adrenaline. But before he could reach it, a hand shot out, catching him by the arm with surprising strength. "Uh-uh, little one," Elysia scolded, her voice firm yet gentle. "You know you're not allowed to wander off by yourself. It's not safe. Besides, we need to make your tummy feel better. You need to stay hydrated and drink as much as possible." Steve's heart sank as he realized his escape attempt had failed. He hung his head in defeat as it led him to the highchair, her grip firm. As Steve felt guided towards the highchair, panic surged through his veins. He couldn't bear the thought of being strapped into that humiliating contraption, especially with his messy diaper weighing him down, feeling it slightly sway with each step. His mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape, but the figure's hold on him was unyielding. "No, no, please!" Steve pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and humiliation. He tried to pry its fingers from his arm with his free hand. "I-I don't want to go in there. Please, let me go!" But Elysia remained unmoved; its expression was that of a smiling, authoritative parent dealing with an unruly child. She gently guided Steve towards the highchair, her grip firm. Steve struggled against her grasp, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought against the inevitable. Ashley rushed to Steve's side, her hands reaching out to try and pull him away from Elysia. "Let him go!" she demanded, her voice filled with determination. "He can't handle lactose. It will only make him sick!" Ashley's attempt to intervene was met with a sudden and chilling presence. The darker mannequin appeared, her tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. Her eyes glinted with a malevolent gleam as she surveyed the scene, her presence enough to send a shiver down Ashley's spine. "What's going on here?" Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a wave of fear through the group. Everyone quickly averted their gaze from Nyxara's chilling presence, and a tense silence settled over the room. Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the scene unfold, her hands trembling with fear. She knew they were at the mercy of these supernatural entities, and any attempt to defy them could have dire consequences. With a subtle yet commanding gesture from Nyxara, Elysia resumed her task of setting Steve up in the high chair. Steve's heart sank as he was scooped up, realizing there was no escaping his humiliating fate. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as Elysia's firm hold guided him toward the highchair. As he was set in the highchair, he couldn't suppress a whimper of humiliation. The squishy mess in his diaper shifted and spread, the warmth and wetness pressing against him from all sides. He could feel the mess oozing and squelching in ways he never thought possible, air bubbles escaping out the back and sending a sickening sensation down his spine. The smell of his own mess filled the air, a nauseating reminder of his humiliating predicament. Steve's cheeks burned with shame as he realized the others could smell it too, their expressions filled with disgust. He wanted to disappear, to escape from this nightmare of being trapped in a messy diaper in front of his girlfriend and strangers. But as Elysia secured the straps of the highchair around him, Steve knew there was no escape. He was completely at the mercy of these entities, powerless to resist their commands. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hung his head in defeat, the weight of his humiliation crushing down on him like a ton of bricks. Meanwhile, Ashley watched helplessly from the sidelines, her heart breaking for Steve. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to reassure him that everything would be alright, but she knew there was nothing she could do. They were all trapped in this bizarre reality, subject to the whims of these otherworldly beings. Steve's heart pounded with fear and desperation as Elysia approached with the bottle. He couldn't bear the thought of drinking the milk, not after what happened last time. With a surge of panic, he reached out to knock the bottle from Elysia's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. The room fell silent as the bottle rolled across the floor, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere. Steve's heart raced as he braced himself for the repercussions of his actions. He expected Elysia to scold him, to punish him for his defiance. But what happened next caught him completely off guard. A chill swept through the room as Nyxara's imposing figure stepped forward, her eyes narrowed with a menacing glare. Steve shrank back in his seat, his heart pounding with fear as he met her gaze. He knew he had crossed a line. "Elysia," Nyxara's voice was cold and commanding, sending a shiver down Steve's spine. "It seems our little friend here needs a lesson in obedience." Elysia nodded obediently, her expression shifting from sympathy to determination. She reached down to retrieve the fallen bottle, her movements deliberate and purposeful. Steve's heart sank as he realized he had sealed his own fate. He had defied the rules of this twisted reality, and now he would have to pay the price. With a sense of dread, Steve watched as Elysia approached once again, the bottle held firmly in her grasp. He wanted to protest, to beg for mercy, but he knew it was futile. Elysia's smile was gone now, replaced by a stern expression as she held out the bottle to Steve. "Drink," she commanded, her voice firm yet cold. Steve hesitated, his hands trembling with fear. He knew he couldn't refuse, not with Nyxara's menacing presence looming over him. With a heavy heart, he reached out to take the bottle, his fingers closing around it with a sense of resignation. But as he brought the bottle to his lips, a wave of defiance surged through him. He couldn't let them break him, not without a fight. With a sudden burst, he threw the bottle aside once again, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Nyxara's eyes narrowed with fury as she watched the bottle clatter to the floor once more. "Enough," she growled, her voice dripping with menace. "You will drink, or you will suffer the consequences." Steve's heart raced as he met Nyxara's glare, his mind racing with fear and desperation. He knew he had pushed his luck too far, but he couldn't bring himself to submit. He refused to be treated like a helpless child, to be forced into submission by these creatures. But before he could muster a response, he felt a sudden pressure in his chest, like a weight pressing down on him from all sides. He gasped for air, his lungs burning with the effort as he struggled to breathe. Panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even scream. Nyxara's voice echoed in his mind, cold and commanding. "You will obey," she whispered, her words sending a chill down his spine. "Or you will suffer." Steve's world spun as he struggled against the invisible force holding him captive. He tried to fight back, to break free from Nyxara's control, but it was no use. He was completely at her mercy, powerless to resist her will. Nyxara claimed the bottle from the floor and forced it back into his grip. With a sense of resignation, Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to drink from the bottle, his throat burning with each swallow. He felt a surge of nausea rise up in his stomach, but he forced it down, knowing that defiance would only bring more suffering. As he drank, he felt a strange sense of detachment wash over him, like he was watching himself from a distance. He knew he was losing himself, giving in to the darkness that threatened to consume him. But he couldn't stop, couldn't fight back. He was trapped in this nightmare, powerless to escape. As the last drop of milk slid down his throat, Steve felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He slumped back in his seat, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay conscious. He knew he had lost this battle, that Nyxara had won. As darkness closed in around him, he couldn't help but wonder what other horrors awaited him in this twisted realm. Nyxara's gaze shifted to Elysia, her eyes cold and calculating. "Once the children finish with their snacks, bring Steve to me for his punishment," she commanded, her voice dripping with malice. Elysia nodded obediently, its expression devoid of emotion. She turned to Steve, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, little one," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "But you must learn to listen. It's for your own good."

Well, I have a new story started, a friend of cool content helping me edit, and a ton of nervous energy. I always get a little nervous when I start a new story, and worse so, when I post the first few chapters! Please watch for the Point of View IDs (--- Becca ---) littered throughout the story. It's a first person work told from several points of view. I think this may be a long one so enjoy and let me know what you think! ----------------------------------------------------------- Birch House Chapter 1 --- Becca --- “I’m not parking this far away from the house everyday.” My husband grumbled. “Yeah, this is kinda retarded. If we buy it, you won’t have to.” I agreed flipping my bangs out of my face the jewelry on my wrist clinking together like a wind chime. “We’ll just drive up there and park next time, but we’ll need to get some gravel brought in and make a real lane out of this grownup driveway. We should do a circular drive and make sure Ann’s got a place to park too.” He said calculating volumes in his head. “We’re not pissing off the Finn’s Trent. We’ll park down here by the road until they tell us it’s ok, or we buy it.” I asserted. “All right… All right Babe.” Trent caved not wanting to upset the sellers either. That’s how Trent was though, always planning ahead. He could see things coming before they got to us, and still find creative ways to bitch about it even if he already had a plan to deal with it. I loved trent with all my heart, but his attitude could be an acquired taste. I had been with Trent since I was a little girl… first as a friend and eventually his wife. Trent’s offered me his hand getting out of my car, and I paused to pull my black lace covered skirt back down where it belonged. Stockings are great and all, but the silky lining of my skirt let it ride way up when I got in the car. I may like showing some cleavage and making sure my tattoos are visible, but I didn’t intend to flash my lack of panties to the world. I love teasing Trent, so normally that’s a good thing, but our realtor sure didn’t need to see my lady fur! Regardless of Trent’s attitude problems, I loved him. Not to mention the short walk up the tree lined lane was beautiful this time of year and was doing wonders for both our attitudes. The little forest guarded the edge of the property from view blocking us from our potential neighbors. In fact, it felt like the house was carved out of a small but wild grove of trees. Even the chill in the air because of fall’s cooler temperatures couldn’t mess with my mood. “God I hope we can close this deal. This place fucking rocks.” I squealed clinging to Trent. My hopes rose with each step closer to my would-be-house. My head swiveled admiring the small forest and the well kept yard. It was the fifth time we’d wandered up that path, and I was starting to feel like I was coming home. I wanted that house so badly, but the amount of debt we were talking about was Hella scary for me. Owning a home was going to be an exciting new chapter in our lives. I mean, I was still driving the car my parents bought me when I turned sixteen for fuck’s sake! The only credit I had was a hundred dollar Victoria Secret card! Big spender I was not. Mom would be so proud of me. I wish she were here to see this with me. Drunk ass old fool! I thought sparing an unkind thought for my dad too. Ashley, our realtor, had shown us this property all five times we’d visited. Each time she looked amazing, and she didn’t let me down that day either dressed in a brilliant blue business suit that day. I remember it matched her lovely eyes. The realtor greeted us with bright smiles hugging me tightly like a long lost friend. I admired her for her sense of style even if it was different than mine, but I’ll be damned if she didn’t catch me staring. “The house is nice too. My firm has sold this house a total of six times you know! This will be the second time that I have found Birch House a new family. She’s just an amazing place.” Ashley said over her shoulder as we toured the house taking my attention from her legs. “I still don’t understand the turnover.” Trent implied blind to her appeal. “This house, at its age, in this condition, and at this price point has always been a great deal. She’s always been a great first house or last house depending on your stage of life. Remember, six times over that many years isn’t so alarming.” She said sticking to her tour confidently dismissing his question handling Trents skepticism like a boss. “It looks like everything in here is new!” Trent said getting his first at the like-new old house. I realized she’d given this tour a million times before, and it added a layer of nervous energy to the walkthrough. Her cleavage was distracting me more than Trent, and I bet she dressed up to show off her assets as a tactic too. I shook my head clearing out the unproductive thoughts feeling a bit like a dude at Hooters hoping the waitress really meant all those kind words. I was ready to make an offer, well… mostly. We had our co-signer and our funding all worked out. We were ready to finalize on our latest offer, assuming the property had been improved like the Finn’s had promised. I shook off my uncertainty causing the chain on my ear piercings to make dainty metallic noises that only I could hear. Personally, I thought Trent had a good point, but maybe I was biased? Why would the house have had so many owners? It’s was nerve wracking going into debt like that, and I just needed to be sure. It felt terrifying and exciting at the same time like that time I went bungee jumping. Making a bad deal and going into over a hundred thousand dollars worth of debt was dragging my excitement to the shitter. The house seemed big enough to me... maybe it was just rich-lady-reasons? I sure as hell didn’t any of those! I wasn’t certain why it was only a good house to start or end one’s life, but I bet she had a speech prepared for the question so I just let it go. There were like a million rooms at Birch House. I bet a big family could live here for a good long time, decades even. The listing had it at about eighty years old. Three, maybe four owners seemed reasonable to me, not four before our realtor’s firm and six more after! Ashley skimmed her notes flipping through the thick stack of paper on her clipboard. The current owners had met us here the second time she showed us the place. I couldn’t believe it had only been a few weeks ago. Trent and I had discussed the things we’d like to do to the house to really make it our own after our first visit. It was going to be hard to complete our list since we didn’t have a lot of cash left for improvements. When the Finn’s had asked, it had seemed like a strange question. A question answered cautiously because we were eager to make a good impression. So, we literally gave them a copy of our list hoping for the best. They’d talked to us for quite a while when we met them. The Finn’s stayed so long it began to feel like a job interview! They’d asked what improvements could be made that would help us. Things they could do that would make the house more attractive and let us pay for the improvements over the term of the loan. The Finns freakin awesome! They were clearly still deeply in love with each other and Birch House. That was no small accomplishment after having been married over ten years. We guessed they were in their mid to late thirties at the time. They said they were only moving because Mr. Finn had been asked to head up an office for his company in another state. They said that they absolutely loved the house and honestly hated to leave it. That made more sense to us. It seemed like a good reason to move, but we still felt uneasy after the interview. We had the sense that the whole deal was too good to be true. We still had two months on Trent’s lease and weren’t too worried about finding a place to rent, so we had the time to be patient about our house hunting. His landlord even offered to go monthly on our rent at the end of the lease, so we had that option too. He wasn’t thrilled when we put in our notice. “Good tenants like you kids are hard to find.” Carl had told us reading our letter of intent. Good? Ha! We were the best tenants! We Phillip’s are handy. We’d tackled small home improvement tasks and simply ask off a bit of rent when our landlord was happy with the results. The first few times we’d had to get any upgrades approved, but it didn’t take long to make a good impression. The bathroom tile and marble countertops had made him so happy he’d paid for the supplies and given us rent for free that month. We weren’t afraid of a little elbow grease. In fact, we enjoyed working to make a house a home. Trent’s mom called it nesting. Unfortunately, money was going to be short for a while. It always is after you buy your first home. His mother had warned us, and it turned out she was clairvoyant about our potential lack of cash. There were more out of pocket expenses than we were expecting. We intended to make the repairs to Birch House on our own, and in our own time. Our realtor had insisted on asking about improvements saying, “you never know.” Then the Finn’s turned around and asked us themselves. We felt much better about being asked than doing the asking ourselves. “We’ve asked to meet with all the potential buyers you know. We’ve decided we are backing your offer. Honestly, the Missus just loves you two. Birch House was our first home and we just love it. Is there anything we can do to help you?” Marshall Finn had asked. Turns out the list we’d made at home was just what the doctor ordered. Trent’s forthought helped us out again, but his ego suffered from the triumph. The improvements were part of Trent’s property evaluation process. God, he was so organized it was obnoxious! Our fantasies gave us some goals to work toward and a future to dream of. In the end, the Finns had the list and we left it with them to think it over. “I can’t believe they did all this in two weeks!” I said trailing my black tipped fingers over the new stove while glancing around at the refurbished cabinets. “Well, they must be heavily invested in unloading this place, or they just really liked you two and were prepared to help you out. I think what really motivated them was when you said you’d have to take a renter for the upstairs.” Our realtor commented as she walked. “Rebecca look! They pulled the carpet off the stairs and refinished the old floors! They had to have had people working 24x7 to pull all this off. It’s not like it was in bad shape before, but this… It’s amazing.” Trent’s eyes roamed around the house absorbing details in a state of wonder. “I know. I mean we may want to paint, and I’d eventually like marble on the counters in the bathroom here too, maybe the kitchen. You know how I am about my marble! But, this… is UNREAL. It looks like a brand new house in here!” I gushed bouncing on my toes. “I noticed the shingles were replaced on the way up here. Did they mention any water damage?” Trent asked. “Uh… I have a note here that there was a small leak in the attic. The inspector’s report says there was only discolored sheetrock which has been replaced as well. This is an amazing deal. Brand new roof, that’s a ten thousand dollar value added back.” Ashley insisted redirecting Trent. The woman was amazing! Her word wizardry would leave you eating your own words with confidence. Un...Fucking...Real... “Well, I wouldn’t feel right countering lower than the asking price now. This place is worth way more than they have it up for.” I told them both, my heart investing deeply. “Awe Trent, look they left that rod iron frame up I liked so much. Honey, I just LOVE this place!” I said it and knew I was all in at that point. Our realtor probably felt her commission check weighing down her purse after my blabbermouth. The two story house was priced to move at one-hundred twenty thousand, but with these improvements it was worth around one-eighty easy. The Finns had gone way above and beyond for us. “Well, you can’t go wrong with Birch House. It always sells fast! Owners seem to stay a while or get out in under ten years. Then they move on to something bigger and better if they leave. Maybe it’s good luck?” Ashley shrugged having sussed out my love of the supernatural and superstitious. “There’s only one weird thing. The owners almost always want to meet the buyers before they accept an offer.” She noted certain that this deal was sealed. “But, you guys already nailed that, so I can’t imagine them not signing right away.” “I just want to run around in the yard barefoot and I don’t know… pounce on the couch for a good nap in the sun. These windows are insane! There’s not a smudge on them anywhere. They let in so much light!” I fussed to Trent tugging at his shirt begging him with my eyes. Hell, the grass looks as lush and fluffy as the carpet! “Ashley, you know we are just going to offer their asking price right? See if they will cover the closing costs for us, and we’ll be able to afford the paint right away. If not, we’ll take it anyway and paint in a few months.” Trent tells the realtor confident he’s getting a good deal the confidence sexily wafting off of him. “Oh Trent! Really! God, I really don’t want to leave now. This new carpet probably sleeps better than our bed!” I said bending to rub my hands through the pile on the livingroom floor. I was so wrapped up in the feel of that luxurious carpet that I forgot about my short little skirt. I mooned Ashley with my stocking covered pany-free ass, but she never commented. Girl wanted that commision check! “Ann is going to love it here. She’s always wanted a dog and there’s so much room! I guess we better look over the upstairs and I’ll run through the attic before you call them Ashley. Due diligence and all.” Trent said bounding up the stairs with the hardwood he’d fallen in love with. I stood up and headed over to the only picture still hanging in the house. The current owners had already moved out, and other than their couch and a bed left in a guest room downstairs there wasn’t much left in the house. We really could move in right away, I muse running my finger over the rod iron frame. The same saying hangs in both our parent’s house and Trent’s mom’s place. ‘Love makes a house a Home’ they read. I loved this house already, but that wall hanging really endeared it to me. I was feeling a connection to the house and we hadn’t even signed for it yet! I moved through the living room running my hand along the oak trim framing the doorway. I’ve always loved that quote, I thought leaving the room getting a tactile feel for the place. “Ashley, I’ve never lived anywhere that had an official laundry room before! Trent loves that the hot water heater is in there and accessible too. This place is fucking awesome!” I couldn’t praise Birch House enough! We both knew where I stood. “It is. This is my favorite property. I’d live here myself, but the house is never on the market when I’m looking. Each owner puts their stamp on it of course, but it just seems to add to it’s ambiance not take away. Owners have moved walls or changed things around to suit their tastes, but it always feels so... Homey in here.” Our realtor smiled. “Everything checks out up there Becca. There’s even more impossible renovations upstairs! Ann may want to paint, but there isn’t much reason to do anything else. They even got the sink and some cabinets in the third room. Hell, there’s room for one of your Exes up there too babe.” Trent joked. “Just be glad I like that girl so much. You really did a number on her. The poor thing.” I slapped at Trent giving him a hard time on a stale joke. “Rebecca Phillips! I was like fifteen er something! That was friggin years ago! I didn’t even know we were going steady. I had no idea going to the movies with Wendy was cheating on her! Cut me some slack! We are all adults and friends, best friends even! I don’t think of her as an Ex!” Trent looked tired of the old one sided argument, but I thought it was funny and so did Ann. He was still sensitive about it though. “Then don’t joke about it if you can’t take it. Ann can. You can’t, ya cheater!” I teased Trent even more. “I’d never cheat on you.” He whispered pulling me to him. “You don’t think that do you?” He asked. Ashley cleared her throat, “Becca, you had better be one hundred percent sure. Buying a house, married or not, has legal obligations that follow you even if Trent doesn’t. I can’t make your offer unless I’m sure you’re sure. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, even if my job is to sell the house and move on.” “Oh Trent! Your stupid jokes have scared Ash. Go measure something or look at man stuff!” I huffed at him swatting him on the ass dismissing him so the Big Girls could talk. His shoulders told me that he didn't’ appreciate that very much, but Trent ambled outside grumbling about girls being confusing. I watched him walking across the covered front porch and disappear from my view. We waited long enough to be sure he was truly out of earshot. I waited more for Ashley’s sake than for my own privacy. “Ash, you are totally safe making this offer. Trent may be gone a lot, but I see his checks. I know when he’s gone, how long he’s paid for, and I have ways of accounting for his time. The lady that does payroll showed me, Barb. We were at a company picnic and I told her I was uncomfortable with all the weird hours cause truthfully, I’m a little insecure and needy. I’m sure he worries about all those hot young college guys when I’m at class too.” I admit. “Oh, I know what you mean. I’ve been married for years and have zero reasons not to trust my husband, but it’s just so rampant, the cheating. I get worked up sometimes.” She reassured me shrugging her shoulders. “He never really cheated on Ann either. She just felt that way at the time. Neither one of them had dated before, and didn’t know any of the rules. It was hard for her for like two weeks then she was over it, and that was literally years ago. If you ever meet her just know Trent didn’t make her the way she is. She’s just a timid little thing and I love her to death. Trent does too, but we love her in a sisterly way. She’s older than both of us, and we’ve all been good friends since we were in diapers.” I assured her. “Ok, well I feel a bit better. Backstories always help a sale, ya know! Go let the heartbreaker and bring him in the house. Just remember. Everyone loves Birch House. It always feels like Home in here. Don’t be the first ones in like eighty years to bring bad things to this place.” I could feel Ashley’s love for the house and the warning in her threatening tone. Her deep care for the place anchored my feelings. Love grew in my own heart too. I was in love with my future first home! This house would be our Home. I was absolutely confident that Birch House would meet our needs and maybe even see the pitter patter of little feet bounding around. Trent and I walked hand in hand back down the lane to our car talking so fast we had trouble keeping up with each other. Birch House Chapter 2 Trent and I brought Ann to Birch House four days later. --- Ann --- I’m buying a flipping-stinking house! Daddy is going to be so proud! I said to myself while getting out of my jeep. I can’t believe I’m buying a frigging house! I shivered in excitement. “OMG! Girl! I can’t wait to show you OUR new place!” Becca yelled getting out of my jeep. She ran around my jeep bounding over to get me. Her silver bracelets and rings clinking against each other making her sound like a wind chime. “I know sweety. Look, calm down a bit. You’re spazzing!” I laughed hugging her lightly. I placed my hands on her shoulders to hold her to the ground. She looked at me with her large chocolate colored eyes opened widely, “I’m sorry… I just never bought a house before.” “That’s ok hun! Me neither! I’m excited too. Point those puppy dog eyes somewhere else! I really need a place anyway, like tomorrow!” I noted worried more about my own circumstances than buying a house. In fact, buying that house with my best friends was an answer to a prayer. “Ann, I’m so glad you’ll be moving in with me. Really I am. Not even kidding! I was going to be so fucking lonely! Trent’s driving would do me in I’m sure of it. You’ll get the entire upstairs to yourself so you can hide from me. You’ll have like everything up there. It’ll be your own apartment or something. OH. MY. GOD. I’m fucking freaking out.” Excitement spilled from Becca while she shook her hands animatedly grabbing at my elbows. “So they accepted the offer then?” I asked her taking her hands. “Yeah, the Finns accepted at their original asking price, like right away. Trent is freaking out too! He says it’s a steal! He’s prolly gonna be on the phone all day.” My friend babbled while tugging at my arms pulling me toward the house. “I’m sorta afraid it’s too good to be true.” I admitted looking down at her. For the millionth time, I pondered how badly that piercing in her nose must have hurt. She has a tiny silver ring in her septum that just hangs low enough to have a bit of movement. The dainty little diamond high in her left nostril fits tightly against her skin and barely catches the light. Becca was always modifying herself, but I liked her nose the best. Me? I’m a big wuss. I don’t like pain. I have one set of ear piercings to her many and nothing else pierced to her many other piercings. I have it on good authority Becca’s face isn’t the only location with non-biological holes! Just the thought of her pierced flower gave me a serious physical shiver. No way in a hairy dolphin will I ever get my lady bits pierced! I promised myself after that stray thought filtered through my mind. “Yeah, I can’t shake that feeling either… Only just a tiny bit though! They even paid the closing costs and shit. We are moving in on the down payment only, that’s nuts! We can cover that together no problem! You’re amazing by the way! Have I told you that today? We couldn’t do this without you.” Becca says turning around swiftly and stretching up to kiss my cheek meaning I had to bend down cause she pulled me to her. I loved Becca, but I’m a very introverted person. Hugs were the most contact Becca and I had shared and those were infrequent bro-hug type thingies. My childhood was sort of difficult. My parents were great, but my health wasn’t. I ostracized myself from the outside world and only went out when I had to. Trying to date my neighbor Trent had been Mom’s idea. I over invested and it sort of crushed my will to date for a while. Mom’s therapist (I refused to call her my own) said I have a social anxiety disorder. I thought I just like being alone, but I don’t have a Doctorate in what other people think so I got ignored. The kiss was new for us. I didn’t know what to do with it, but my hand drifted up to my face touching the trace of heat her lips had left. “You know, I only have a few days before I have to be out of my apartment. It stinks that I’ll have to move twice.” I complained. “Ah. You’ll only be a couch bum for a couple days. Maybe a couple weeks tops. We are happy to have you.” Becca reminded me of her offer to let me bunk on their couch at Trent’s apartment. “Uh... I decided to stay at the La Quinta Becks. They have a suite and I booked it for seven days. They gave me a good rate, and I’m not hurting for money. Besides, I don’t want to squash the newlywed vibe you two have going on.” I told her following her up to the house. “Awe, really? That’s no fun!” She huffed. “We’ll be all up in each other’s business before you know it. I’m excited. I’ll get more room for about the same money with this house. This move is a no-brainer for me babe.” I said looking down at her. “I may have bought it without you guys if I’d have been brave enough.” “I’m sorry they sold your building, but I’m not sorry to move in with my best friend!” Becca laughed hugging me tightly resting her head on my chest. “Your tall today.” Becca commented looking down at my hikers then back up at my face. “I’m always tall, and your always short!” I giggled and took a turn dragging her a few steps toward our new home. Becca took the lead guiding me around the backside of the house. She was a touchy-feely chick, but today she was a bit over the top. She’d always been that way, and it had been hard for me since I was a pre-teen. I’d dealt with the touching because I trusted her though. She was my first real friend after we’d moved when I was eight. I trusted Becca to get a good feel for the house just like I trusted Trent’s handi-maness to determine if the house was sound. The Lord knows I couldn’t do either! I giggled to myself. You have a certain set of skills… and house buying isn’t one of them. I thought in my best Liam Neeson impression. I hate getting out of the house, and college was just torture for me. My freshman year they made me live in the dorms! With people! I’d fallen into a light depression that year, but I had pushed through my problems and gotten my degree. I don’t really like to be touched, looked at, talked to… Fine. I’m a hermit. Dating was was even worse than living with strangers! It’s not that I enjoyed being alone, but guys just didn’t understand when I needed time alone. I just never really clicked with any of them. They couldn’t give me my alone time. Eventually, I gave up on dating altogether. I worked from home, shopped from home, ate at home, and gamed from home. I had a few friends and a truly lovely family. I just didn’t feel the need to get involved with humanity beyond that. “Look! Look!” Becca shouted as we rounded the house treading on a newer looking stone path. “Oh My stars!” Was all I could say. It was beautiful and I was left standing there dumbfounded. The back of the house looked very different from the pictures that Becca had shown me. There was a patio off the back door maybe three feet or so off the ground accounting for the grade of the hill. That wasn’t the only change though. Four humongous pillars rose from the patio on each of it’s corners. They were supporting another deck. I looked up at the bottom of the upper deck… my deck? There were two new decks, an upper and a lower, off the back of the house! I followed Becca, well got dragged by her, up a beautiful set of stairs. The dark wood had a tinge of red in the stain and was finished immaculately. The handrail was so smooth that when I ran my hand along it, I had no fear of splinters. “B...Becca! Do I really have my own outside access?!?” I stuttered in disbelief. “Yeah, Trent put that on the improvement list right at the top just for the hell of it. Look at this shit! They actually had it done!” Becca gushed literally jumping up and down. “I… I can’t believe it. It’s… so perfect.” I gaped reaching out to touch my own door. “Girl, just wait till we go inside! I don't’ have this key, but look it’s like a real balcony up here!” She giggled turning around to look at the yard. She drug me back around to the front door, but I had a hard time leaving my deck because it was cute and the view was amazing. I was already imaging watching the sunset out here. It looked like I’d have to see the first floor before I had the chance to see my floor though. The Finns had really put in a lot of effort for us, for me. I couldn’t believe all the work that had been done. It was nothing short of amazing. I was that much closer to a new dog. I was thrilled. All the woods in the house were all rich and dark where the walls were a complimentary lighter color. I was sure my little spaz of a friend would end up repainting a few rooms because her tastes are… her own? “Becks I’m pretty happy right now. I’m just so glad you and Trent finally have your own place, well you know mostly your own. I feel like I’m invading though, but I promise I’m like a recluse or something! I won’t mess with your newlywed vibe.” I told her trying to get her to slow down. “Pish! Trent will be on the road a lot, most of the week really. He may start taking some overnight runs or sleeping in his truck. They pay a crazy wad of cash for those two-day runs. We have my car, but he wants to get a bike for running back and forth to work. With you here, I won’t be alone when he’s off being the Man of the House!” Becca said growling in a low voice. “Trent could use some butching up ya know. Those truckers are going to eat alive with that metro head of hair and total lack of man-beard. He looks like a teenage boy… If he carried a hipster bag, they’d probably beat the poop out of him on the spot.” I laughed. “Hey! That’s MY metro-man you’re mouthing there.” Becca put up a token defense of her husband, but lacking in real conviction. She drew up to her full height, which unfortunately for her was just shorter than your average girl. It always makes me giggle when she gets her back up and I still have to look down at her. She looked at me with death in her eyes and then broke laughing hysterically. She hugged me in our shared excitement as we headed upstairs together. It was time to see my floor! There was a small landing upstairs and then a weird shaped hallway. I couldn’t see from one end of the floor to the other, but I’d noticed that in the pictures before. I was already figuring out how to divide up the rooms to create a full house on the second floor. I wanted a nice bedroom suite and there was a beautiful humongous master bedroom suite on this floor on the east wall. I wanted an office, guest room, and a pretend kitchen/dining room. Then I’d have a full apartment on this floor, but this house wasn’t built with that in mind. It did have a dedicated bathroom on this floor that could be a guest bathroom, so that was nice. There was plenty of rooms for the other stuff I wanted to do and I’d get around to it all eventually. “Look it! They put in an outside door on the landing!” She said her platinum hair and purple braids bouncing off her shoulders. The purple braids were tipped with silver skull-face hair ties. “I see. This is super amazing Becks! I can’t believe this. It’s almost like this floor has been remade into a real apartment. I’ll be able to take out a dog and not bother you!” I stood there shocked all over again excitement building. “I know! We’ll love your dog, but I’m glad you can do that out your own door. Just… you know walk it away from the porch a ways.” Becca admitted. “I promise Becks. I’ll do the poop bags and everything.” I agreed. “We told the Finns that we couldn’t afford the place all on our own. Ashley let on like they thought we had to get a renter. I thought she’d look our financial paperwork closer than that.” Becca told me shrugging like it was the realtor’s loss. “So... She knows I’m a co-signer right? I mean I’m covering most of the down payment and all the taxes.” I asked. “I guess, I’m sure she does by now at least. Worst case, she’ll find out at the closing won’t she?” Becca laughed. “It’ll be nice to meet the Finns at least the once.” I admitted. “Let me show ya the rest, there’s more.” Becca’s silver bracelets clacked together as she clapped her hands bounding off once again. Rebecca Phillips is my best friend, but she was just coming out of her goth phase. I was thrilled for that! Goth was preceded by a punk phase, and I for one would love to see the end of all the leather and silver buckles. The punk stuff came after her stab at grunge in her senior year. Japanese culture influenced most of High School before the grunge phase. The entertaining part of my besty is that none of the phases were ever totally left behind. They all left a mark on her eclectic sense of style. I bought her several of those noisey bracelets over the last few years. The purple streaks in her hair were left over from our junior year when two toned hair was her thing. Well, at least the punk and goth phases shared a lot of the same clothes! Goth just added a ton of dark makeup to the mix, at least that’s for the most part how it worked for Becca. I don’t know, there may be a few more piercings these days. I giggled to myself looking at her. Strangely, I found myself doing it much more frequently than I used too. I refocused on my wind chime sounding friend and the tour she was giving. It turned out one of the room’s had been upgraded just for me! There were some basic cabinets making a bar against one wall. They had installed a small overhead cabinet on one end and a fridge on the opposite wall. It immediately reminded me of a workplace break room. The only stuff I’ll have to do downstairs is oven stuff and my laundry! I notice unable to fight back my own sniffles suddenly overwhelmed by the Finns’ thoughtfulness. “Good gracious Becca, this place is amazing! I can’t get around how perfect this house is. I can’t believe they even got a fridge up here. It’s ridiculous!” I gush. “I know! Trent keeps coming over here looking for flaws. Poor guy has a bit of a glass-half-empty complex. It can be hard to keep him happy.” She giggled her hand resting on my arm. ----- I’m a few years older than Trent who was a few years older than Becca’s twenty. Twenty-four wasn’t ancient or anything, but I was the college grad with a few years of working and life under my belt. I would always be the oldest in our house. I loved Becca, but we’d never lived together, and I certainly didn’t have the upper hand in relationship edicate. I had few relationships and even fewer long term friends. Was all this touching normal? I asked myself trying to fight off the sense of invaded space she was stirring up. That day though, we both gushed and giggled about moving into our new house. We talked a lot about the new appliances and discussed colors for our walls. The owners were going to leave the couch and one bed in the guest bedroom downstairs until we closed, then it’d be a flurry to get all our crappy furniture in that beautiful house. ----- All the banking was done, so we were ready when Closing Day came around a few weeks later. All we had to was sign on the dotted lines. We were filled with nervous energy while Trent remained aloof standing with his arms crossed through most of the meeting. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Admittedly, I could afford the house on my own, and I wouldn’t have co-signed with my friends if that weren’t the case. Plan for the worst case scenario! Dad was worried life would smack me and leave me in a lurch so I never got in over my head. I planned to squirrel away the difference that the Phillips would be covering so I had my budget worked out for worst case. Plus I needed to rebuild my savings after the down payment. Becca and I crashed on the downstairs couch as the sun was setting the evening after we closed on the house. Trent had to leave running his first night load. So, we were alone to celebrate in our new house. The view was amazing through the full windows on the west side of the house. We were nestled in watching the oranges and reds while she sipped a beer and I nursed at a sweet tea. Becca, being so short, could only lean her head against my shoulder, but it was comfortable and so was the silence in the room. She took a pull off her beer and looked up at me with her big chocolate brown eyes. She whispered, “I couldn’t do this with anyone else ya know.” “I know Becks. I get it. You don’t have to tell me. Seriously, it’s not charity. You guys really bailed me out here. If you can stand me for a couple years, you’ll be out of school and you won’t need me any more.” I pat her leg letting her know I wouldn’t intrude forever. Her body language changed immediately. She sort of shrank in on herself and sat up separating herself from me. A shadow crossed her face and her hands quickly covered her eyes. Soft sobs wracked her body and her pale shoulders bobbed keeping time with the crying. “Shit Ann. I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, you are literally the only reason we can get this place!” “Oh Becks…” I started honestly confused. Becca cut me off, “No, it took both our credit ratings and you as a cosigner. I just meant please, please, please put up with us for a few years before your life sweeps you out of town. I’ll be ready to help with the bills then. Part-time just doesn’t cover much. Maybe I’ll be ready to let you go by then too.” I turn to do something I have never done before, something that had never occured to me before. I kissed the top of her head. Poor thing, I thought as she tugged me into a side hug burrowing into me. I’m never going to want to leave. I don’t want to get swept away with life or my carrier. I thought to myself not finding the words or the will to say anything. Becca was one of the coolest outgoing people I knew, but she seemed so fragile right then. One day I’d find out what had her so worried, but on that day I attributed it to the stress of debt and moving. “Sorry Becca. I get it. I guess I thought this might be long term thing. You know ‘Crazy Aunt Ann’ living upstairs taking care of your kids in the evenings so you two could do stuff together. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, I’ll stay long enough for you to finish school… long enough you won’t need me.” I whispered. “Shit! Damn! Ah Hell Annie. That’s N-O-T what I meant. You better bet your ass that you’ll be crazy Aunt Ann! We may need one of those rooms eventually. Trent wants to ruin my body with at least two kids. There’s only the one spare room down here unless we give up our office.” Becca rushed. “Sorry. I just… Well… Poop. Becks they are tearing down my building! I can’t catch a break anywhere. I thought you were telling me I wasn’t going to be welcome in a few years. I… it’s... I’m sorry.” I sniffed. “Such a potty mouth on such a pretty face.” Becca joked turning my words against me over my pseudo cussing. She got up on her knees and returned my kiss leaving my face uncomfortably close to her cleavage. I sprung up and drug her to the master bedroom on the second floor. My bedroom had a beautiful attached bathroom. It looked like my bedroom was a bit bigger than theirs and i secretly loved that. Buying the whole floor for half the house payment was a steal for me, but I wanted to cheer Becca up. “Your’s and Trent’s room is almost as big as his whole apartment. Plus, it’s on the opposite side of my outside entrance.” I pointed out. “Yeah, it’s a big fucking upgrade from my dorm room!” She bursted out laughing. “This is a huge upgrade for me too! Potty mouth.” I asserted. We moved to what I thought would be my guest room, “Well, the second room downstairs could be the boy’s room. You don’t want those yard apes too close to your room though. Too much rough housing in there. Then you’d have the kid’s bathroom, and then girls room up here if we had to. You know in the future.” “Or you could keep your office if I have two boys or two girls. Since you live up there, you’d have to take care of em if I put any spillover kids upstairs. Maybe we could put that baby monitor receiver in your room!” She teased. “You’re breastfeeding aren’t you!” I blanched looking mortified. No way I wanted to get up at night! “Hell, I don’t know! That’s at least after college and the first year of work or so!” Her face scrunched. “I have to wait like three FLIPPING years to live vicariously through your motherhood!” I mock panicked. “OMG! You’re going to have to get a handle on that fucking mouth before you burn my poor baby’s ears off with your verbal filth!” Becca teased me. “Why I never! My momma would probably spank me to this day if she caught me talking like you! Those poor babies!” I giggled. We broke off in a fit of laughter. Becca hugged closely to me as we walked back into her room hip to thigh. It was a big impressive room too. I really liked her room, but it was the view I was in love with even if my room was a bit bigger. I was truly happy for her and thrilled to be sharing the house with her. She ran a hand down my hair and stepped away from me taking my hand again. More touchy-feely boundaries were broken that day than in both of my previous dating relationships! I didn’t know what to do. I already loved Becca, but I didn’t see other people behaving like this with their friends. Course, one has to leave the house to see other people... Going to have to hit the internet for some research. I’m not sure if I should be offended or not. Still, it’s nice to be this close to someone. I decided. “God we can do anything in here! It’s so huge!” She said sounding like she was in a bit of a weird mood. “I could fit my whole dorm room in here fridge and microwave and everything!” Becca pointed out. “I won’t have an oven upstairs, but I don’t cook much so that wouldn’t be a problem!” I said getting truly excited. “Well, you’ll be eating downstairs with the family anytime I cook.” Becca asserted. “Bah you cook all the time! I’m going to wear out my welcome!” I worried. “Honey, you can’t wear out your welcome. You know why? It’s because your family, and I love you!” She reminded me. “I don’t wanna mess up the whole newlywed humping like rabid bunnies vibe you two have.” I giggled. We left Birch House in a good mood having spent some time in it dreaming of our futures. We headed over to Becca and Trent’s place and grabbed the boxes Trent had brought home for packing. It was enough boxes to move a whole house of people. Becca ran into PIzza Hut for a hot and ready pizza on our way to my hotel. The Packing had started. “Ok, Let’s pack this shit!” She giggled grabbing a piece of ham off the top of our pizza. “Oh I give up! Wish I had something to shove in your mouth so you wouldn’t foul up my air!” I said laughing at her potty mouth. “I’m sure I’ll spontaneously stop cursing as soon as the house is packed with diapers and pacifiers… Till then, Fuck Off!” She cackled at herself. “Let’s watch a movie or something while we pack.”  

Well well well, DailyDiapers. You don't know me, but I know you. Oh boy, do I... My name is SketchPatch1760. I'm 25 years old and and I've been visiting your site for 10 years. That's right, 10 years. I remember when Diaperspace was a thing and Internet Explorer reined supreme. Of course, that was back when I was a teenager starting puberty. I'm autistic (high-functioning Aspurgers), suffer from anxiety and depression, and tend to act on implusive (though I'm working to fix it). This are EXTREMELY important to my story. I consider myself one of you. I've had sexual and nonsexual attractions to diapers for years. I remember getting strange feelings for the diapering scenes in Rugrats, especially the forced changing scene in Maybe Baby and Potty-Training Spike. Thinking hard enough, I can vaguely remember getting placed on the changing table at my church's nursery as a 2-3 year old. It felt great to find a community that relished in the same things as I. I even started my own ABDL account on Deviantart back in 2018 under the name SketchPatch176 and began making fanart. In 18 months, I reached 450 followers and even got a few commissions done. I made TONS of ABDL art and stories of Gravity Falls, Steven Universe, Star Vs The Forces of Evil, and The Loud House. I made a lot of ABDL friends there and was generally happy. And yet...it's also been a great source of frustration and pain. When I started reading ABDL stories and getting off to them, most of them were of underage kids and teens. I still remember my first ABDL story being Baby Katie over on FoxTaleTimes. I didn't know or care at that time. The scenarios in these stories were hot and I loved picturing them in my head (later even imaginging myself in the place of the protagonist). It's only now, when the feelings still persist, that I worry. Once I got into my older teens and learned what child porn was, my enjoyment of ABDL started to turn into paranoia. Was I reading child porn? Did jerking off to stories of kids and teens getting diapered and babied make me a pedophile? To makes things worse, my mom found out about my fetish and for the last 10 years, I've been trying to convince her (and myself) that this fetish isn't illegal and ammoral. I've defended you guys countless times to her. However, the fetish still worries her and, after all this time, it worries me too. She kepts hoping that I would grow out of it and called my art "boarderline risky." This worry eventually consumed me with fear and acting on impluse, I did the impossible: I deleted my SketchPatch account. I just...I couldn't take the stress anymore. It was eating away at me and in pure desperation, I thought that purging it all would relieve me of all the pain. But it only made me feel worse. I felt like a drug addict on withdraw it was that bad. Even now, six months after the act, I still feel this way and constantly debate whether I should have done it or not. Now, I'm currently seeing a therapist, who tells me that drawing art and stories of underage characters is wrong and promotion of rape culture/sexualizing the image of children. I do see some truth in her words, but it doesn't make the urges go away. It only gave me even deeper conflicting ideas of the ABDL community. I mean, our community claims to be completely against pedophilia, child exploitation, and child porn, yet ADISC, DailyDiapers, AR Archives, ABDLStoryForum, AB/DLStories, AB-DL.com (now gone), Baby Brrr Nursery (now gone), ZityBitz, Deviantart, and many more sites have TONS of stories staring under-18 protagonists in both sexual and nonsexual ABDL stories. And that's not even mentioning the fanart community. Now, I consider ADISC and DailyDiapers to be the kings of the ABDL community, the experts. If anyone can explain this double standard to me (or at least emphasize with me and my issues), it would be you guys. So I ask you...How? How can our community constantly claim to stand against child exploitation and the involvement of minors in our kink when we are CONSTANTLY doing the opposite in our stories and fanart? I've seen everything from underage characters being sissified to forcibly diapered to even mentally/physically regressed. How can this not qualify as animated child porn? Why do we get off to stories like this?! I'm sorry for sounding so judgemental, but this stress is literally KILLING me! My soul feels like it's being yanked in a hundred different directions and my self-confidence has plummeted. I'm not totally blaming you guys, but sites like this gave the younger, impressionable me a sexual interests in stories/art of underage characters in diapers and I need help. I don't want to feel like a closeted pedo or perv all my life. Please...help me. Explain to me this double standard.

The Face Another early morning and already James is feeling angry and resentful. Ever since the unknown virus had entered his body and more or less disabled him he’s been getting angrier and angrier by the minute… even when he was asleep his dreams were all about him angrily doing something. The doctor’s regular visits over the past eight weeks had also angered him. The man was an absolute buffoon. What the hell did it mean - he didn’t know what the problem was? How could they not find something out from the seemingly never ending supply of blood that was taken from his veins? Was everyone at the damned testing lab incompetent? James had woken up eight weeks ago and found he could hardly move. His legs and arms were paralysed even though the rest of his body was working as normal. This had become a constant source of frustration for him. At twenty eight years old he had the normal urges a young man in his prime would have and as blood flowed to his penis he was thwarted in any attempt to relieve himself. The catheter they attached to take away his strangely greenish piss had done little to interfere with what became almost constant hard-ons. This wasn’t the cause of his angry frustrations but it certainly didn’t help. Then, because of a rather nasty infection the catheter was removed and he had to entertain the idea, as a twenty something, of wearing a nappy. He hated that piece of material. The nurses manhandling, the embarrassment of a stiff cock and not being able to do a thing about it, but worst of all was lying around in a wet and messed in nappy... just waiting. The nurse had obviously been in while he was still asleep and left a cup of tea on the bed side table… but of course he couldn’t reach it and knew he’d have to wait for her return so he could have the cup cradled to his lips as he sipped the lukewarm beverage. He’d tried to talk the old nurse into giving him a wank but she had retreated embarrassed and threatened to leave seven weeks ago. So now she only spent time with him when meals were to be taken, the doctor arrived, some medical exam or her sanitary obligations had to be performed. She had taken badly against James and saw her job of bringing relief to the suffering of those patients in her charge to be only medical and not recreational. Although performed with efficiency she completed each and every change with as little eye contact as possible. Once he’d returned from the hospital where the array of talented doctors had to admit to being baffled by this mysterious complaint James had spent the last eight weeks lying in his bed unable to move. Unbeknown to him, a few were of the opinion that it was something that was mental and his ‘virus’ was the product of his own imaginings. He had told them that on the night when this strange condition had taken hold of his body he had dreamed of a great wasp-like thing stinging him at the base of his spine and he’d woken sweating uncontrollably, in fear, a soaked bed and crying but unable to move. He had managed to scream for help but living alone it had taken a couple of days for anyone to hear his cries for assistance. So he’d had to live in his own piss and excrement for all that time, it was a situation he wouldn’t have wished on anyone. Now each night, and completely frustrated at having to rely on anybody else, the man who was a champion squash player… well in his works league at least… and on the front row of the local amateur rugby club… he wore the shirt with pride… fell asleep and his head spun with the weird dreams that occupied his nocturnal thoughts. It’s strange but… well… never had his dreams seemed more real. Never had such a strange and disparate selection of extraordinary, connived and utterly stupid electrons fused together in his brain to produce a panorama of madness and mayhem. Each dream seemed to outdo the last. He both feared and looked forward to his eyes closing and the dream merchants bringing on unbidden the bizarre and exotic… with the occasional erotic thrown in to seemingly mock him for what he was now unable to do. * He shouted for the nurse. The cup of tea was cooling quickly and he hated drinking cold tea. He’d learned that his requests to his nurse for anything normally fell on deaf ears until it suited her… she had her own routine and she wasn’t going to let the fact that he was paying to be cared for interfere with that. Even his nappy was only changed when it suited her. James hated the bitch but had come to rely on her. He gazed out of the window. It faced north so never actually got much sun coming full into his room but this particular early spring morning was glorious. He could see out into the fields and the morning sun lit them up and was bringing out the new green buds on the trees awakening from their winter’s hibernation. If he wasn’t in his usual bad mood he may have quite enjoyed the view… even the pale blue sky seemed to go on for ever without so much as a single cloud to spoil the view. Actually, as he stared out of the window he could see a small black ‘something’ on the far blue horizon. Perhaps it was a small flock of birds but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. He called for the nurse again, he really didn’t want to suffer cold tea again, and a very full nappy but she wasn’t in any rush to come to his assistance. He needed her to put the TV or radio on as well as he couldn’t control the controls. Annoyed and frustrated he returned to looking out over the peaceful sunny morning view… everything the same except that the black smudge on the horizon seemed to be getting bigger and he wondered if there was perhaps a fire burning off in the distance. He couldn’t make it out but shouted loudly again for the nurse to come to him. A voice called back that she was on the phone to the doctor and that she would be up in a minute. That calmed him down a little but he knew that cup of tea would be undrinkable now and that his nemesis would not think of brewing him another cup. It wasn’t like it was rocket science for God’s sake he’d think to himself, as he wondered if anyone of his team-mates would visit him today. He knew they wouldn’t… over the past eight weeks a total of… zero… zilch… bugger all… not one of those bloody self-centred bastards had taken the trouble to come and visit or call to see how he was. It was as if no one even missed the fact that he wasn’t around anymore. “Bastards every fucking one of them” he thought… he couldn’t wait for the chance to ignore them once he was in full health. He looked out of the window again. Hell that black cloud was getting larger by the moment. It put him in mind of a sight he’d seen on a television nature programme where a plague of locusts had swooped in on some poor foreign country and eaten the area’s entire crops leaving the locals starving. It wasn’t a nice image but he’d been enthralled by what nature could do if it wanted and there was bugger all Man could do to stop it. * As he thought these thoughts… the black cloud seemed to separate and peel away in different directions. “How amazing” James thought and was even more amazed as after a few minutes the two separate clouds changed direction again and came as two parallel lines towards his home. He still couldn’t make out what it was but saw that it wasn’t two solid black entities but a multitude of separate moving parts. It was a swarm but, he wondered, a swarm of what? Again his mind went back to the locusts and he thought he was witnessing one of natures little quirks manifest itself in his back field. Suddenly for some reason James felt uncomfortable. Sweat had begun to form on his forehead and his body was clammy under the sheets. His bladder gave way as the green brackish liquid filled his already pretty soaked nappy and his bowel tightened as he tried to keep from messing in his thick protection. Pain stabbed at his insides as he failed to hold himself in check and a brown liquid steam oozed from his backside as he gave way to the excruciating agony that gripped his belly. He mournfully cried out through clamped shut eyes as if for some reason he knew… he just knew… that something terrible was about to happen. He was scared to open even one eye as he tried to block out what was waiting for him should he dare to even blink his eyes open for a split second. His misery got worse and he could feel his eyes, by some strange and malevolent entity, being prised open. He fought as hard as he could… crying out “No No No” to no one in particular… but suddenly his eyes were open wide. He blankly gazed out of his window… but the field had gone, the blue sky had gone, his newly budding trees were gone but there, hovering were a mass of shapes moving around… themselves seemingly caught up in some terrifying current of air. Images of bodies being tossed around at random… darting skyward and then plummeting earthward filled the view from his window. James was scared and transfixed as this myriad of changing, dark, yet animated, images appeared to clamour at his window. The buzz clattered against the window pane and he could make out that they were giant wasps. Terror tightly gripped his chest as he made the connection between his waking dream and his illness. There, beyond the window, was the cause of his situation but now they’d returned in their millions. Then it happened. * The cacophonous sound in his head surprised him. His blood ran cold as he tried desperately to heave himself from the bed and hide. The noise seemed to be calling to him, this time louder and more demanding. He hoped it would be the nurse at the doorway telling him off for being such a complaining baby but there was no one around. His body temperature was dropping quickly and his breathing got more and more laboured. His cold breath creating a small cloud as he breathed out but his face was drawn once again toward the window. All those millions of wasp-like images had become a solid mass of ghostly figures, which then became one. A face. A face that was beckoning James. “Come” The word came again this time demanding and commanding him for the final time. * The nurse arrived in the bedroom to find her charge cold and dead. His eyes were wide open in terror and his mouth locked in an unheard scream. She couldn’t understand what had happened and rushed to telephone the doctor who only minutes earlier had told her that he thought he’d found a solution to their patient’s problem. She didn’t see the black smudge retreating back over the blue horizon. She didn’t hear the return of birdsong that had been silenced for the last few minutes and she never saw the final tear trickle down the face of her charge. James was indeed dead but his torment was just beginning. ***** *****

The Guardians When the Guardians first came onto the scene the joke was they were a cross between Robocop and Mary Poppins… the joke wasn’t far from the truth, being a biological/technical/mechanical mix designed for the public’s protection. However, the efficient way they were programmed and went about their business was chilling. These Cyborgs were the law; the judge and jury who carried out the sentence with detached efficiency – no appeal, their verdict was FINAL – a sort of Judge Dredd but with the ability to alter a person rather than just obliterate them. The jokes and comical way in which this new service was introduced is no longer a laughing matter. The design, originally from the workshop and laboratories of ExecProtex, and with the tag-line - “The Guardians Will Keep You Safe”, complete with an image of a Guardian looking more like an angel with wings that surrounded a group of children - had been lampooned by every comedian, left-wing politician and religious leader as morally inept and unworkable. How wrong they all were; each and every one of the cynics and critics now reduced to sucking their toes and shitting in their diapers. # The Guardians were, and continue to be, a huge success: Employed by police and anti-crime firms around the world, their unique, special ability to locate, deep in the recesses of the human psyche, the moment that turned someone from the path to do right in the opposite direction is impressive. Their success rate is phenomenal. Once they had tracked their felon, detection by AGC - atmospheric gene recognition - much like a dog uses the scent of a criminal to track them, the villain is quickly brought to justice. The Guardians can ‘read’ every thought, detect every influence, navigate every nuance that the human mind tries to hide and then come up with an appropriate sentence. The result is labour-saving, instant and effective. Crime rates have fallen across the globe as criminals are quickly brought to book and their sentence instantly applied so, no costly, on-going justice system. The Guardian’s job is ‘intelligent analysis’ but the term covers a broad range of themes which are quite menacing. Whilst scanning the offender’s mind they locate the instant in their life that changed their consciousness, that precise motivation that made them act against the law. Not just the law they’ve broken because the scan looks much deeper to identify the influences that led to such an action. Often it is something that has its roots when the criminal was young. It’s then that the Guardian delivering the sentence can erase the offender’s mind and return them mentally back to that instant. From that point they are given the opportunity to change their decision and relive their lives from that regressed state, making them ‘happy’ and law abiding citizen as they grow up all over again. For some this doesn’t work; there are people who are bad through and through but still the Guardians give them a second chance. They are reduced to the mental age of a new born and allowed to start their lives once more. This relies on someone being there to see to an adult/baby who is no longer capable of looking after them self, which of course means a whole new business has grown up around such a service. However, if that isn’t an option, the lawbreaker can be terminated. Termination is a last resort but accepted as a final solution to any completely lawless individual… the Guardian’s job is to protect and where needed to make that final judgement. # ExecProtex has quickly become a very rich and powerful company. Unfortunately for them, their success means there are fewer and fewer criminals to process, so they have had to come up with alternatives. Various subsidiaries and affiliated supply companies grow day by day to meet the demand for their skills. To feed that challenge Guardians, in a slightly ‘altered’ version, are made available to companies who need (or want) to keep their workforce in check. These ‘Harmony Guardians’ as they are known, also find their way into the hands of families who are also keen on keeping a tight rein on the people around them. Even the most trivial act of lawlessness, like littering or speeding, is under the scrutiny of the ‘HGs’. Children of the rich and powerful are under constant surveillance and any transgression has an immediate impact on their lives. Hacking into the HGs has become a past time for some who hate these featureless upholders of the law, a law that is at the whim of whoever controls the Guardian. Any transgression is punished; so children, friends, acquaintances or even business competitors have resulted in their mental age being returned to childhood. There seems to be an abundance of CEOs who want to keep their progeny under such a tight leash and maintaining a teenager in diapers is thought a good solution to them growing up and becoming independent of thought. Life under the Guardians has changed the world, less crime but much more authoritarian. The fact that most people are regressed and not ‘dispatched’ is seen as the positive, humanitarian action of a more compassionate society. However, those who control the Guardians make the laws and, with certain ‘legal’ technical patches, can also alter the Cyborgs initial intent. They certainly don’t want a new, younger breed coming through with liberal ideas or programmes intent on dismantling the current status quo. Those who seem to possess such thoughts are dealt with. The ExecProtexCreche® is designed for just such a purpose… and its juvenile residents increase daily. However, there are other companies offering a similar, if less expensive service, which enjoy an equally successful, if different, business plan. So, whilst the ExecProtexCreche® is doing well for one section of the community - InfantileInc®, PaddedBottomsRus® and the scarily named Drool Time® are seeing business explode as the Guardians are put to use servicing another industry altogether. #### Part 2 “The Guardians Will Keep You Safe” logo had become something of a joke, though not a joke anyone was laughing at. The all-encompassing power of the entire new breed of Guardians had meant that even in private, nothing was private and nothing was safe. Any sense or action that the Guardian’s authority was being challenged meant an immediate visit to the ExecProtexCreche® for that challenger… and that often included family and friends. However, this action was proving quite expensive and, as ‘termination’ wasn’t an option for those who rebelled against the Guardian’s authority, new ‘homes’ for the transgressors were eagerly sought. Drool Time® was a no nonsense facility that had its own agenda and was happy, for a fee, to take any ‘miscreants’ as long as their future was left entirely at the disposal of the company. The Drool Time® business made no secret that their main criteria was regressing their ‘inmates’ back to a point in their life when they posed the least threat. So, each and every one who came under their ‘guidance’ was subjected to being returned to a shitting, pissing, thumb-sucking baby whose mental development was never going to be over that of a one year-old. No matter what age they came in as, they were quickly (and it has to be said efficiently) turned into crawling, crying, diaper-wearing babies. # Like all the subsidiary businesses from the Guardian franchise their influence and size grew in every country of the world. There wasn’t a major city that didn’t possess at least one of these grand ‘help and education’ centres. Governments, despots, dictatorships, even democracies all had access to, and full use of, these awesome facilities. There were times, especially in this technological era, when even the most liberal of communities saw the need to keep certain members of that community, state or country, under strict supervision. Drool Time® was the inexpensive answer to that problem. Meanwhile, the major growth area had been in baby products and those companies, who were in at the beginning, Drool Time® being a prime example, had become mega industries wiping the floor(as well as millions of bottoms) with many of the technical companies that had seen a downturn in their profits (and some would say use). The efficient Guardians had reigned supreme, and to a certain extent, still did but they answered now to the subsidiaries who were making the mega-bucks. It was their profit levels that motivated all future development and Diaper Companies sat at the top of every worldwide financial market and investment portfolio. Drool Time® were a quick thinking, opportunity led business and it wasn’t long before they adapted the technology of The Guardians to something more basic, simple, cheap but highly sellable. They introduced the School Drool Box, (Scroolbox®) a portable and easily maintained piece of apparatus that every educational (and indeed firm) could afford. Naughty boys and girls were who were acting up in the classroom, or anywhere else for that matter, could be deprogrammed and a new, more juvenile, existence would be theirs. The manufacturers made sure that each student or employee would then become dependent on Drool Times® other products; diapers, plastic pants, baby powder, oils, creams, ointments, unguents and specialist clothing. The clever programming also meant that the regressed individual would cry, scream and have a tantrum if they didn’t actually get their specifically desired objects - Drool Time® merchandise. At any one time most public schools would have nearly a third of their students in remedial class wearing diapers and playing with toys. Those that didn’t had the threat hanging over them so became very industrious and knuckled down to their studies. With further modification to the Scroolbox®, this happy, though mindless, generation of people became a workforce to be harnessed and used as seen fit by those in power. A cheap and almost inexhaustible supply of labour that had, with a steady supply of Drool Time Din-Dins® and Drinky-Winkies®, no thought other than making sure their diapers were clean and dry. Megacorp Drool Time® had seen the future and decided to amend, bend and influence it in any way it could. Their workforce was available for hire with all fees accrued to the company who paid their employees with cheap and inferior items from the Drool Time® range. As they didn’t have the minds to know anything better, they were convinced by the Scroolbox® that they were content… as long as they had access to all the stuff a happy baby needed. The problem was that everyone who didn’t wear diapers was now paranoid that at any moment a faux-friend, competing colleague or ambitious rival might, at any time, regress them and they would never be aware of what happened. Super-hackers targeted these people. Like the Guardians before them, this new breed of righteous individuals brought justice to an abused, shameful and decaying system. Reversing the numbers of regressed people was impossible but these ‘saviours’ had found a way to terrorise those who had terrorised an entire population. Diaper time under the Guardians had, to begin with, been seen as progress in a battle against crime. Now, because of the abuse that power had engendered, it had been turned against the CEOs and management of these major companies who had appropriated it for their own ends. Technological developments ended. The entire management of ExecProtex®, ExecProtexCreche® ,InfantileInc®, PaddedBottoms’R’us®, Drool Time® and a host of other similar companies and conglomerates joined the diaper-wearers and a new breed of benevolent administration was installed. They were called ‘The Caretakers’® ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I am not an Abdl personally. I do not wear diapers or suck on a pacifier. I don't pretend to age down, but I am in the community. I read the fan fiction, I look at the art, I scroll through the online shops; but I'm confused.

I joined this site to connect to people. I've been feeling especially lonely lately and decided I'd really like to talk to some like-minded people, maybe even make a few friends. The problem with this is that I suffer from Avoidant personality disorder and Social Anxiety disorder. This makes it difficult sometimes to reach out and socialize. I want to....but at times my fear overwhelms me and I have to hold myself back. I have such feelings of shame and self loathing. I long to be with people, have friends, laugh and have adventures but I can't. I'm trying. At least I'm trying. I don't know how long I'll stay active on this site before what I call my "black cloud" overtakes me again. I'm just wondering if anyone else feels like this. Is there anyone else who has a disorder that makes it difficult, even painful, to be around people and interact with people? Is there anyone else who doubts their own self worth so much that they actively avoid relationships?