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This is my first attempt at a story, and my first ever post here but don't think that means I don't expect criticism because I not only do but I welcome it! I know there's a ton of writers out there doing amazing things in the pantheon of stories for this and other sites and while I hope I can at least bring something enjoyable to you good folks, I won't fool myself into thinking this story is going to be spectacular, it's just something I've been meaning to write for a long time but was always too afraid to display my attempt at writing. If you enjoy the story let me know, if you don't enjoy the story let me know and if you think I can do better and should try again let me know. I'm really very agreeable to critique even if it's harsh. This story is 100% fiction and in no way is intended to be based on anyone's real life or experiences therein. There is an underage character in the prologue but it's just to establish a history for his life more than anything. I know there's a rule about underage characters and I feel that I've followed the rules but if there's a problem please remove the story with my sincerest apologies and I'll rework the narrative to avoid it going forward. I think that's everything I wanted to say, but I could be stalling for time because once I submit this it's out there and omg it's so nerve wracking but I'm gonna do it...go! A New Life Story By: Ramble Lamb Prologue I don't remember much of my life from before. I'm sorry, that was a fib, I remember everything about my life from before but it seems like the story of someone else's experiences more than anything I'd ever had. Thinking about who I was and what I had seems almost like reading a eulogy for some stranger in the newspaper, it can give you an idea of who the person was from the point of view of someone that knew them and cared enough to pay per word to share why they thought this person was worthy of space on a page but it doesn't really tell you anything about who the person really was. As an example, if I were to tell you about myself right now I'd use descriptions like 'adorable' or 'girly' but if I were to do the same thing before I'd have to use words like 'husband' and 'adult'. Those are just words though, letters strung together to form a recognizable pattern that your brain associates with an understanding of what that word means which can be very different from what it means to someone else. If you were to look at me right now, my long brown hair in loose pigtails, a purple glittery pacifier bobbing rhythmically between my lips as my baby pink painted nails dance across the keyboard then you might see a young woman with an oral fixation hard at work on her computer. If you looked longer you'd notice budding breasts beneath an almost lavender shirt proudly labeling me "Daddy's Princess" in rainbow glitter. The young woman you'd previously gotten an image of now seems to be more immature than you'd first assumed, perhaps the pacifier isn't solely being used to assuage an oral fixation but rather is part of a personality cultivated in the hopes of holding onto the younger self of this young woman. If I were to stand up from my chair to give you a look at the full picture you'd see that the shirt extended beyond the length of a normal shirt, going down past my waist, stretching over a bulk that one doesn't typically see adorning young women my age, connecting between my legs with snaps to keep the previously mentioned bulk from falling when any additional weight is added to it. Beneath the bulk are my thin legs, smooth as silk with a lovely tan to them and the image ends at my little feet encased in soft shoes colored to match my shirt and secured with lovely ribbons tied into bows at the top of each shoe. Overall, this image would be viewed by many as adorable when attached to a biological infant or toddler, but being that I am very much not either of those things, I'm probably seen with a healthy mix of strange looks and harsh judgment but, in all fairness, I don't dress like this out in the world beyond these walls I call home. The nice thing about clothes and makeup is that they allow someone to be whatever they want to be. Admittedly, I wouldn't have guessed that I wanted to be this, but when I have my hair done and am allowed to have a bit of makeup I feel every part the pretty little girl I've come to identify as. When I'm wearing a pretty dress or even just something in one of my favorite colors of pink or purple I feel cute and lovable. I told you before that my life before was someone else's story but it isn't, not really, it's my story and even though it ends with me being a happy and much loved baby girl it starts with me being selfish and naughty and I know now that those are two very not good things to be. ************************************************************************** I was born Nicholas Henry Marks some thirty odd years ago. I had no siblings and my mother was my sole parent. My father had made me with my mother when she was his secretary and he was having marital discord with his wife so needless to say he didn't jump at the chance to settle down with us in nice little family unit. My mother provided for us quite well and, though she never said it aloud, lavished me with love and attention because I was her only keepsake of her one true love. As I grew up she became increasingly fixated on me, going beyond "helicopter parenting" into the realm of doing everything in her power to keep me in a position of needing her. Obviously I don't remember too much of my young life, but I've seen the photo albums with pictures dated from when I was five years old playing happily in cloth diapers and plastic pants without a care in the world. I've heard the stories from cousins, aunts and uncles about how they thought I'd never get out of diapers or how they were glad my mother had stopped breastfeeding me before I'd hit double digits in age. I remember some things, like sleeping in my mother's bed the night of my first grade class' Christmas performance. After the show we'd been taken back to the classroom to wait for our parents to pick us up and it being nighttime, my mother had declared it necessary for me to have my "night pants" on beneath my normal clothes. I remember needing to use the bathroom for something other than tinkle and had wandered out of the class in search of a quiet place to fill my diaper away from the prying eyes of my classmates. Ironically enough I chose a spot near the restrooms, a dark little corner where I squatted down and started pushing only to have a hand clamp down on my shoulder a few seconds in causing me to scream and empty myself out of fear rather than necessity. I'd turned to find my mother looking down at me with tears in her eyes, worried I'd been kidnapped when she'd gone to my classroom and was unable to find me. Seeing her crying and having a full diaper caused me to begin crying as well as I held up my arms to be picked up and carried away. When we got home that night she'd changed me first thing and then settled into her bed with me and held me on her lap as she undid her nursing bra and presented me with something to both soothe me to sleep and fill my recently emptied stomach. Now, I know that that account can be seen as deeply wrong and probably disgusting, and you're not wrong. Looking back as an adult, I know that her actions greatly impacted my life in ways that made me who I am today. The truth is that even if she was wrong and even if she was possibly abusive in her coddling and infantilization of me at such a young and impressionable age, it set me on the path to become who I was meant to be, and that me is so very happy and wouldn't change a single thing about her life. After I was fully potty trained and weaned from bottle or breast I led a pretty normal life. I was a good kid, probably could have done better in school but I made friends and had fun and didn't end up dead or in jail. I never did very well with girlfriends, but some of that was the disconnect with what I thought was normal in an intimacy setting and what they thought was normal. My first girlfriend didn't think it was at all normal that I spent so much time sucking on her breasts in what was supposed to be foreplay that I ended up finishing in my pants before she'd even started breathing heavy. Second girlfriend was a take charge kind of girl in the bedroom and had given up the ghost when I failed to get aroused as she straddled me and grinded her pelvis against mine. She'd called me a few not very nice names that I won't risk a spanking to write here for you. The important thing is that we've established that I was in no way a hit with the ladies. I knew I was straight and that I wanted to have sex with women but not in the strictest sense, I didn't know anything about sex at the time beyond penis goes into vagina and that's where babies come from. As I got older and the internet was becoming a thing that people had in their homes the world started to make more sense to me and I began to learn things about myself that helped me to not feel so different and freakish. I'd always had a fixation on things like diapers and baby things as far back as I could remember but with puberty in full swing I started to associate the pleasurable feelings that wearing a homemade diaper, that was really just a bath towel duct taped around my waist, gave me with something sexual. My first ever intentional orgasm was achieved on the floor of my room with a pee soaked towel taped to me and a thumb in my mouth sucking greedily as my other hand rubbed frantically at my damp groin. The shame and confusion I felt in those early years was almost palpable but, thanks in part to my deviant internet searches I discovered that other people were just like me and what I was wasn't wrong or disgusting and everything was okay. *************************************************************************** Moving forward to more current events, my wife and I had met online in a chatroom for people that liked to pretend to be children or even sometimes babies looking to meet people that liked to take care of those people. We'd hit it off almost immediately in the general chat area and quickly moved to a private chat to be able to discuss personal matters without someone spamming "Mommy I poppy peez change me diapy" or other offensive to basic human intelligence nonsense. We talked for hours a day for months on end and found that we had so much in common beyond just our kinks and fetishes. The obvious problem of distance was something we only ever discussed to express our sorrow that we weren't able to hug and kiss one another, something that happened most often around bedtime when she'd watch me through the webcam as I put a diaper on and got into my pajamas becoming her little boy in every sense of the term as she began to read me a story to help me get sleepy for bed and then at the end of the story she'd kiss the camera and wish me a goodnight and then the fantasy world where baby and Mommy were together was over and I'd find myself shuffling into a cold bed wishing to be cuddling with her as I fell asleep. As it became clear we were actively working to close the distance between us she began to enforce more dominance in our relationship. It started small with her suggesting I have a regular bedtime to ensure I was well rested and stayed healthy, she'd have me text her pictures of my meals to make sure I was eating right and not glutting myself on sweets and junk. When she first brought up wearing a diaper outside of the safety of my own apartment I stood up for myself and told her that made me uncomfortable and she dropped it, for a while at least. A week or so later she randomly showed up at my front door and I was so overcome with joy that I didn't even question the fact that something of that magnitude should have been discussed and planned as a couple rather than decided solely by her but my Mommy was there for real and I was too happy to know anything else but love and excitement. Within an hour of her arriving she had me naked on the bed waiting for her to return with the required supplies to transform me into her baby boy. My manhood was harder than it had ever been and my heart was beating like a jackhammer in my chest as I heard the bathroom door open and saw her stride confidently into the room. She'd changed out of the clothes she'd worn for her trip and was now wearing a black and white polka dot dress that stopped in the middle of her deliciously toned thighs. Her high heels were bright red to match her lipstick and nail polish and her black hair was done up into a tight bun to give her the look of a no nonsense mother figure made all the more powerful against her porcelain white skin. She smirked at me as she glided to the bed and set her supplies down near my feet as she sat at the edge of the bed and lightly brushed the shaft of my penis with her fingers. I ejaculated as soon as she reached my balls, covering my stomach and pubic area with my shameful display. She clucked her tongue and declared that messes of that nature were why she would ensure I was diapered until she believed I could be trusted to control myself, none of her words made any impact on me as my head swam and I felt myself slip into my little headspace, clutching my stuffed otter and sucking my pacifier as she offered each to me and set about cleaning me up and getting me properly attired. That first time together was where she secured her hold on me and established her dominance for the rest of our relationship. By the time she went back home a week later she'd, through spankings and time outs and even a mouth soaping, made me into the perfect specimen for a good little boy and I bawled uncontrollably as she pulled away from my apartment and headed to the airport and back to her life without me. I made it my mission in life to continue to show her at every opportunity that I was obeying her edicts without her supervision in the hopes that it would spur her to come back or invite me to come to her. I started wearing diapers all the time, making sure to text her pictures every day so she could verify my compliance and I'd drink up her praise every time she told me I was a good baby, but it wasn't enough, I needed to be with her. When I surprised her by showing up at her doorstep one day it didn't go as I'd expected. The whole thing fell apart when the front door opened and a man much larger and imposing than myself answered. He recognized me and welcomed me in which, in my state of shock, I complied with and found myself in the living room of a well kept and quite lovely home, pictures of Mommy and this mahogany god of a man adorning the walls including one of them on their wedding day. To say that my heart sank in that moment would be quite an understatement and, against my wishes and strongest attempts to keep it together, I began to cry because I felt lied to and betrayed by someone that I'd willingly given my entire self to. Her husband had put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me into him for a hug as he gently patted my back and assured me that everything was okay. He showed me to a spare bedroom at the back of the house, one that only had a bed and dresser in it and nothing else. I was told Mommy would be home in a few hours and that I could take a nap if I was tired from my trip. Depression aided my weariness and I fell asleep without much issue, waking up some time later to Mommy stroking my hair and urging me to get up because I'd wet the bed. I remember apologizing profusely and offering to leave between sobs and sniffles but I was shushed and led by the hand to the bathroom where she stripped me down as the large tub filled with water. Husband entered the room as she gently rubbed my back and took my wet clothes, chuckling softly to himself as I gasped and tried to cover my naughty bits. As I sat in the tub and she lovingly washed me she explained that she was sorry for not telling me she was married but that they were planning on separating because they mutually wanted something else. She explained that they still loved each other and would remain friends as they had for the years they'd dated and the ones they were married for, but she wanted to be a Mommy and a strong and virile man such as her husband just wasn't going to be the baby she needed. She lifted my head and looked me square in the eyes and told me that I was her baby and just as soon as was humanly possible she wanted to marry me and have the perfect life she'd been craving for so many years. Looking back on it now, it probably should have been seen as a bad sign that a major life decision was made without me being asked and while I peed into a married couple's bathtub as the wife washed me. Chapter One: Not To Be Trusted "Nicholas Henry Marks, you get in here this instant!" my wife bellowed from the living room. As with being a biological child, all three of your names being used to summon you by an authority figure is just as terrifying when you're a grownup, albeit a grownup currently wearing a wet diaper beneath his Spider-Man pajama pants, but a chronological grownup nonetheless. When the holy trinity of names is used in our house it's very clear that an adult man is not expected to arrive, rather, the use of the three names acts as a switch that shuts off all adult thought and will and leaves only the outer appearance of an adult with the soft and creamy center being nothing more than a terrified child that knows a punishment is coming but has no idea what form it will take. Shuffling nervously down the hall, rustling loudly with each tiny step, I fought the urge to suck my thumb, knowing that any minor comfort it may bring me would pale in comparison to the humiliating barbs that would be rained down upon me for being a pathetic excuse for a man. It sounds harsh, but it's part of what butters my biscuits so everyone ends up happy, usually after a trip across Mommy's lap and a stint in the corner, but the aftercare is wonderful so net happiness after all is said and done. She stood in the living room with her hands on her wide hips, her high heeled toe tapping on the wood floor impatiently as I rounded the corner. "Do you have anything you'd like to tell me, young man?" she asked sharply, her tone indicating that I clearly should have something to tell her but no specific thing was hinted at. My mind struggled to come up with something I'd done or forgotten to do, something I'd done when I wasn't the baby of the house perhaps? There actually had been a stretch of almost a month recently where work schedules and general life stuff had kept me in the "man of the house" role, but some spare time had come up the night before and I'd found myself on the receiving end of some lovely regression time with Mommy that had ended with a sticky mess in the front of my diaper and a story before bed. In case you were wondering, this was not the same diaper I was currently wearing, I'd gone through a few since then thanks to my smaller than average bladder. "No, Mommy." I told her honestly, completely unable to come up with anything that would earn her ire. She nodded and walked toward me, pinching the top of my ear between her thumb and index finger, leading me over to the chair on the other side of the living room and pointing down to a small spot or purple on the cream colored upholstery. "Did you spill juice and not tell Mommy?" she asked. My diaper began to warm as I stared at the spot and nodded without saying anything. "And how did you manage to spill juice?" she asked impatiently. I swallowed hard as tears began to form in my eyes. Without thinking my hand was rising to my face, thumb extended aiming for my mouth to help quell a full blown meltdown but she slapped my hand away before my salvation could reach me. With a heavy sigh she sat on the chair and pulled me across her lap and tugged my pants down around my legs. "I think thirty should be a good start." she mused aloud before she slid my diaper down, exposing my hairless and still powder and lotion coated behind and began to deliver the sharp swats she'd planned out. I was a blubbering mess by five and in hysterics at the end of it when she stood me back up next to her, leaving my pants and diaper down where they were. "I'm sorry, Mommy!" I cried out between sobs and snot bubbles. She looked at me with disgust and shook her head. "Sorry isn't good enough, young man, not this time." she began. "You've been far too free this past month and clearly it's time for you to be reminded of your place in this house." she said as she rose and led me by the hand to the corner of the living room where she stood me, nose to the wall and red bottom on display. "I think three months of baby time will help you to remember how things work around here." she declared. Without thinking I spun around and began to protest "That's too long, Mommy!" I whined. She smiled and knelt down, running her hand through my hair. "You know, I was going to let you be Nicky for three months, but since you think you can argue with me when it comes to your punishments, I think maybe you can be Nicki for three months instead." she said. "Oh, and I think Thanksgiving will be a perfect time to introduce my little girl to the rest of the family." she added as she guided my thumb into my mouth and spun me back around to the corner before leaving me to process the magnitude of just how bad things were going to be for me. *************************************************************************** So, some explanation is required. See, we're kinky as a couple, we have a Mommy and baby relationship and we've experimented with a fair amount of things in the years we've been together. In the quest for deeply humiliating and sexually gratifying things, we happened upon sissification. It started out as the usual calling my manhood into question which usually ends with me in a diaper being babied, but she'd apparently done her homework and found something she wanted to try and so rather than a diaper I was put into a pair of cute little panties, powder blue with little cartoon bears on the front and had to endure her putting makeup on me all while she commented on what a pretty little girl I was. It's really hard to put up resistance when your penis is straining against the inside of a childish pair of panties, in case you were wondering. At any rate, things began to escalate from there as a cute little party dress was added in a future session and from there she began to fondle me through my panties and under my dress until one night she began to finger my bottom, and as I helplessly came in my adorable little panties she knew she'd stumbled onto something that she could use anytime she wanted. She began to use anal stimulation to bring about climax more and more frequently after that, even going so far as to buy what she dubbed "babies first dildo", a translucent purple thing slightly bigger than her middle finger that she explained would be the only way I could self stimulate from now on under penalty of punishment. 'Nicki' was born shortly after that when she walked in on me working my new toy in and out of my bottom while hungrily sucking my thumb to stifle my pathetic moans of pleasure. "Show Mommy how much of a naughty little baby girl you are." she commanded as took a seat on the bed and watched my shameful display. "Cum for Mommy little girl!" she encouraged. When I finished shortly after that she put her hand in front of my spurting member, catching a fair amount on her palm and fingers and looked at the mess with a wicked smile before holding her hand to my face. "Are you going to be Mommy's good baby girl and clean her hand for her?" she asked in her syrupy sweet Mommy voice. I felt my face flush as leaned forward and stuck out my tongue, tears of shame rolling down my cheeks as I licked and sucked her fingers and hand clean. She beamed proudly at me and clapped her hands. "Such a good baby girl you are, Nicki!" she praised. "That's with an 'i' in case your little baby brain couldn't grasp it." she said with a chuckle as she set about to getting me cleaned and diapered for bed. ***************************************************************************** Thanksgiving was only a handful of weeks away and I wasted no time in trying to have my sentence commuted or dropped entirely if at all possible. The problem was that I'd been deemed "too little" to do the things I'd planned like cleaning the house and making dinner for us. "Mommy knows you want to be a big girl and make the house all pretty and clean, but I'm sorry to say that you're just too little to be able to handle such big responsibilities." she explained, suddenly finding something very amusing as she covered her mouth with her hadn to stifle a laugh. "Can you imagine how silly it would be for Mommy to let you make dinner when you can't even be trusted not make little baby messes on her nice furniture?" she asked rhetorically. I blushed hotly as she turned me around and nudged me from the kitchen with a gentle pat on my padded behind. I trudged back to my room, our marital bedroom was mostly off limits when I was being babied since a wet bed in the nursery was to be expected but one in Mommy's bed would be very costly indeed, and took my spot on the cityscape playmat in the middle of the room with a heavy sigh of resignation. I knew that my punishment started first thing the following day and two days from then I'd have to go back to work and while I was confident she wouldn't put me into a position where I'd lose my job, the concern that people I worked with would discover what was going on was very real. ***************************************************************************** The very first time I'd had to wear a diaper to work I was a nervous wreck the whole day. I'd been put on punishment for dribbling tinkle on the toilet seat and not cleaning it off and the small infraction had earned a week of diapers and a month of bathroom cleaning. I worked in an office and had a cubicle that thankfully afforded me some privacy but every slight crinkle was deafening to me and I was sure that before close of business I'd be the laughing stock of the entire office and demoted to the daycare center on the third floor like one of those ridiculous stories you read on the internet when you're into the ABDL scene, wink. In actuality, everything went off without a hitch almost the entire week minus an extremely close call on the third day when Mommy had come to take me to lunch and decided to change me on the backseat of the car in the parking garage. After the overly suspense filled change was complete I was given the balled up used diaper and sent to the nearby trashcan to dispose of it when a group of ladies came out of the elevator and started heading into the parking garage toward me. I dashed in between two cars and made a beeline to the trashcan, slamming the diaper in as fast as I could and hurrying back to the car, breathing a sigh of relief in seeing that the group of women was too busy talking and laughing about a movie they'd seen to even notice me. ***************************************************************************** The morning my punishment began started like any other, Mommy coming into the nursery and letting down the side of my crib and giving me a bottle of juice to drink while she got me out of my pajamas and wet overnight diaper. Rather than merely change me though, she left me naked and absently played with my morning hardened member while she waited for me to finish my bottle and then led me to the bathroom where she'd set up a wide array of shaving and hair removal supplies. While not overly hairy, I did have a small patch of hair above my manhood as well as a little on my chest, legs and under my arms. My face was always kept smooth but she made quick work of removing my body hair, even doing a little work on my little pucker in back. Satisfied with her work she got me into the tub and began washing me with a lovely smelling, if overly feminine soap and shampoo. Standing me up she began to thoroughly clean my most intimate areas, causing me to develop shaky legs as I began to pant softly and bite my lip to keep my moans from coming out. "Do you like it when Mommy touches your clitty and sissy hole, baby girl?" she asked in a sultry voice as her washrag encased finger traced a circle around my back entrance. I couldn't lie, though I wasn't pleased with the her new names for my parts or the moniker of 'baby girl', and nodded sheepishly as my thumb entered my mouth. She smiled and set the washrag aside as she rose to her feet and left the bathroom, reappearing a moment later with her hand behind her back. "Close your eyes, little one." she said in her sweet, motherly tone. I complied and felt her pull my thumb from my mouth gently followed by a familiar rubber texture teasing my lips, my mouth opened without a second thought but what I'd expected to enter it didn't and instead something more cylindrical went in. I opened my eyes and pulled the pacifier out by the ring on the guard revealing a small penis shaped bulb rather than the normal teat. I looked up at her in surprise and shook my head "I don't want this!" I whined. She smirked at my little outburst and guided the thing back into my mouth. "Mommy didn't ask you, sweetie." she said mater of factly as she tied the pink satin ribbon connected to the pacifier ring behind my neck. "Since my little girl likes sucking her thumb so much, Mommy figured it was probably time to introduce her to a little practice penis she can suck on just in case she meets a special boy when we're out on the town." she explained with a derisive laugh at my expense. I spat the little dick from my mouth and scowled at her. "I'm not going to suck anyone's cock!" I screamed, instantly regretting my outburst as she leaned forward and began smacking my still wet behind with her open palm. "For the next three months you're my baby GIRL," she began, overly emphasizing the change in my gender. "that means you're going to be whatever my idea of the perfect baby girl is." she continued as her blows continued to rain down, her free hand stuffing my new pacifier back into my wailing mouth. "So, if I decide you're going to suck some cock then you better prepare to pucker up, angel." she snapped as she stopped spanking me and sat me back down in the water harshly, causing my burning behind to scream in agony the second it touched the hot water and floor of the tub. "Now, if you really want to fight me on this then we can discuss it like adults once your punishment is over, but until such time as you're considered an adult around here, you'll do as you're told. Am I understood?" she asked as she looked down on me with her most domineering gaze. I sniffled and sucked the little penis pacifier...penisfier? sullenly as I looked up at her and nodded weakly. "Yef Mommy." I managed to get out between sucks and sobs. She nodded her head sharply and stood me back up, pulling the plug in the drain and helping me out of the tub before wrapping me in a large and fluffy pink towel. "Good girl, now let's get you dressed and ready, Mommy needs to get her little girl some clothes today." she said as she began drying me off. To Be Continued...