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Hi folks. The response to my last short story was positive, so I’ve decided to post another. This one has a little bit stronger (but still gentle) mommy domme themes, along with forced regression and messing. All characters are 18+. As always, comments or critiques are welcome! Before Playgroup Sandra sipped her coffee as she watched Mike playing with his toys on the rug. He was all but oblivious to her presence as he busily pushed a brightly colored wooden train along the ramshackle track that had taken over most of the living room. Her lips cracked into a sly smile as she observed the liner of his nighttime diaper peeking out from the elastic waistband of his jammiee. The soggy bulge in the crotch and sag in the bum also signaled that she’d need to get it off him soon. But not yet. It wasn’t time to leave for regression playgroup yet. And that diaper wasn’t coming off until they were on their way out the door. For the past month, Sandra had been gradually increasing the time Mike spent in his nighttime diaper in the mornings before transitioning him back to “big boy pants”. A series of uncomfortable wet beds had made nighttime diapers an easy choice to accept, and the increasing time spent in them after waking was just a natural extension of that (at least from his perspective). There had been some grumpy feelings at first, but by the end of the first week, he seemed to be perfectly happy staying in his soggy night-night diaper at least through breakfast, and often well beyond. Sandra was already starting to reap the rewards of these efforts. Even on the rare occasions when he woke up dry, his diaper was almost always wet by the time he finished breakfast. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by these periodic lapses in daytime continence either. In fact, Sandra didn’t think that Mike was even especially aware of his diapers at these times. They had become an accepted part of his morning routine now, and using the potty was not. On mornings when they weren’t going out right away, she’d supply him with a fresh sippy cup of juice or milk and send him off to play, waiting to change him until she was sure the residuals of the additional liquids had found their way into his baby pants. Sometimes she’d pull him into her lap, all cute and warm and squishy, and tell him what a good boy he was for not making a fuss about the potty while he was diapered. Sandra loved the intimacy of these little moments together - when he allowed himself to be babied and cared for so completely. The faint smell of urine and baby powder wafting from his jammies was a not-so-subtle reminder of his growing dependence on her. She wanted him to be this way for her more often. And that desire was why she had decided to enroll him in the the Regression Clinic last Christmas. Mike had gone quite willingly to the first few bi-weekly appointments (he’d always been a little subby and into kinky ageplay), but she suspected he was treating it more as a gimmicky excuse to take some time off work, and possibly an easy opportunity to get his hands on some fun meds. It had been slow going in some areas, especially at first, but things were starting to change in more noticeable ways now. Apart from the bedwetting and increased time spent in diapers when at home, she had begun to notice some distinctly babyish shifts in Mike’s behavior and personality. He’d started sucking his thumb when he was sleepy or stressed, and he sometimes needed a nap in the afternoons now. He was more eager to please her, and much more affectionate. Mike had never been much of a cuddler in their previous 6 years of marriage, but now he craved her hugs and attention, sometimes lapsing into whining or even tears if he didn’t get what he needed from her right away. He’d definitely started reacting more like a two year old, even if he didn’t always act like one. And one topic that could almost always be relied on to set Mike off was his toileting. Apart from nighttime and early mornings, Mike was still adamantly opposed to wearing anything that didn’t closely resemble “big boy pants” during the day. The one time Sandra had casually suggested putting him in a “just in case” diaper before they went out had provoked such a swift and petulant “NO!” reaction and stamp of his foot, that she’d almost laughed out loud. It wasn’t because Mike didn’t need daytime protection - in fact they were long past that point. Sandra had been keeping careful track of Mike’s toileting and accidents since he started the regression program. Although he still had some good days (or bad, depending on which side of this process you were on), the completely accident free days were pretty much a thing of the past. The program was clearly having an impact on his level of independent bladder control, but that also meant more work for her - cleaning up puddles, peeling soiled training pants down pee-soaked legs, and doing endless loads of laundry. It was growing tiresome. After Mike had left a trail of urine through the checkout line at the grocery store about a month ago, Sandra had decided it was time for him to start wearing cloth “training pants” during the day. She had bought the most absorbent ones she could find, but without a waterproof cover, heavy or repeated wettings still soaked through to his clothing. The not-quite-daytime-diapers were a small victory, but it still felt like they were dancing around the problem rather than dealing with it in the most logical, practical, and inevitable way. Now, as Sandra watched Mike play, she was carefully observing his body language. If today’s plan was going to work, she’d need to time this perfectly. Sandra knew Mike usually had a bowel movement about 30-45 minutes after breakfast. He was still pretty good about requesting the potty for “poopies”, although there had been a couple of notable “mishaps” in recent weeks. In truth, Sandra had “facilitated the first accident through simple distraction and redirection. She’d been a little concerned that Mike would see right through her scheme, but it turned out that the opportunity to play with mommy’s phone (something he almost never got to do) was a very powerful motive to completely ignore his toilet needs. As planned, that little “boo-boo” had happened in his sodden nighttime diaper, and Sandra had made sure the whole experience was extra memorable for both of them. Just the smell coming from Mike’s bulgy bottom was enough to make her wet. And his subsequent blushy confession about what he’d done in his diaper and why he needed to be changed was almost enough to make her come on the spot. As she held his legs and wiped his bottom, Sandra had been careful to reinforce the point that cleaning up a poopy diaper was no big deal, and that she wouldn’t mind if he decided that he wanted to do all of his poopies in a diaper from now on. Of course it was his choice, but it would be a lot more convenient for everyone wouldn’t it? And in exchange, he could have more phone time! As predicted, Mike had refused, but she had at least planted the seed that poopy diapers were an acceptable (and preferred) alternative to sitting on the potty. The second poopy accident had happened more “organically”, and, unfortunately for Sandra, it had occurred when Mike was in training pants. On that morning, she had dutifully changed him out of his morning diaper and settled him in the living room in front of the TV, while she took some time for herself to catch up on news and social media. She had been in the kitchen, absentmindedly poking at her phone when she noticed that Mike was being more quiet than usual. Too quiet. Sandra crept to the entrance of the living room and peered in to find Mike standing in front of the TV with his thumb in his mouth and his eyes glued to the screen. A rivulet of drool hung from his lips. As she watched, Sandra had been mildly surprised to see Mike bend his knees and push his bottom out a little bit. She knew immediately what was happening. She had seen this characteristic posture countless times during the years she had spent working in the toddler room at the local daycare before marrying Mike. The only difference (apart from size) was that those kids were still in diapers full-time, and therefore had no legacy of potty training to contend with. Going in their pants was an everyday occurrence. For his part, Mike seemed completely unaware of what was about to happen. He was totally engrossed in the preschool TV program she had put on for him. Sandra continued to watch with amusement as Mike tensed and held his breath. His body relaxed for a moment and then tensed again, this time for much longer. This was no involuntary little “accident!” Whether he realized it or not, Mike was pushing a large poop into the seat of his pants as if he’d never been toilet trained. He gave another short push, followed with a little shiver, and then returned to a full standing position as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Moments later, the smell of freshly dirtied training pants reached Sandra’s nose. She considered leaving him like that for a while to see how he would react, but she quickly decided against that course of action. It would be better for his diaper training (and her control) if she pretended to discover his little accident all on her own. And besides, she wasn’t sure the cloth trainers would contain the mess if he sat down or moved around much. There was a very noticeable bulge in the seat of his pants. Sandra knew it was weird, but she found that posture and that bulge so irresistibly cute! Part of her wished she could just run over, pick Mike up, and hug him tightly to her with one arm firmly planted under his bottom. She imagined the look on his face as he felt the warm poop smushing further up his backside as she bounced him lightly and held him tightly to her. She imagined him blushing and burying his face into her breasts as he told her in muffled tones that he’d gone poopy in his pants and that he needed to be changed into a clean diaper. Maybe he’d even start to wet himself during his confession, and she’d feel the spreading warmth against her tummy as she patted his bottom and gently shushed him. Maybe she would… No. She was getting carried away. There would be plenty of opportunities to enjoy stinky diaper time with Mike in the future. Right now, Sandra knew she needed to stay in gentle, but firm mommy mode. Without saying anything, she walked over to Mike, and with a motion perfected in years of professional practice, she knelt down behind him and pulled back his trainers to peek inside. She knew what she would find, but she wanted to reinforce in his mind that she, not he, was the one responsible for tracking the condition of his pants, and that she didn’t need his permission to do so. The sudden motion startled Mike out of his trance. He looked up at her questioningly at first, his face the picture of slightly dazed or bewildered innocence, but then his expression quickly changed to one of dismay as Sandra announced matter-of-factly that he was stinky and that she needed to change him right away. A brief bout of tears followed, but she drew Mike into her, rubbing his back, gently patting his bottom, and speaking in such soft, reassuring tones that the embarrassment over his accident was soon forgotten. It had been quite a thrill watching Mike dirty his pants for the first time without her “encouragement”, but Sandra also knew that these moments presented important focal opportunities for increasing Mike’s regression and introducing important changes to help him along on his journey. The staff at the regression clinic had made it clear that Mike’s regression would not follow a linear or steady path. Instead, he would go days or weeks at a time with little to no perceptible change in his behavior or attitude, and then an event like this would trigger a sudden and permanent shift towards more regressive, babyish behavior. Sandra had used the second messing episode as an excuse to start changing Mike while lying down on a changing mat, instead of standing up. He needed to get used to being changed this way. Standing changes were only for big boys who had occasional little accidents. He no longer qualified on either count. Mike had fussed a little bit when she first laid him down right there in the living room, but Sandra had been firm that it would be easier and faster for mommy to clean his dirty bottom this way. Besides, he was in no position to argue with her in his current state. Oddly enough, Mike seemed to become completely comfortable with this change in status and procedure by the time Sandra began wiping him down. It was as if she’d flipped a switch in his mind. He had laid there passively as she worked on his most intimate areas, perfectly content to ignore what was happening and to continue watching TV sideways from his position on the changing mat. It was the single most babyish behavior Sandra had seen from Mike to this point. In the days that followed, Sandra had noticed other lasting changes in Mike. He seemed generally less concerned with his potty accidents. Whereas he used to demand that she change him as soon as he noticed he was wet, he now seemed content to just wait for her to take notice and change him when she was ready - a task which she often delayed for as long as possible - at least when they were at home. She’d stopped mentioning or suggesting the potty when they were home alone together unless she needed him in dry pants for some reason. In fact, they begun treating the cloth trainers more like diapers when at home. Public accidents were a different story though, and still prompted immediate and whiny demands to be changed on the spot. And there were occasional tantrums if that was not possible for some reason. Sandra had allowed this bad behavior to continue in the hopes that it would change on its own as the frequency of his daytime accidents increased. But alas, not yet. Which brings us to the events she had planned for today. Sandra knew that removing Mike’s aversion to public accidents and public changes was an important step in his journey to full-time diapers. He was more than ready physically, (as noted, there was plenty of evidence of that in the diaper pail and laundry room). But still, something was holding him back. Eventually, after consulting with one of the on-call psychologists provided by the regression program, Sandra had determined that Mike’s resistance was primarily social in nature and origin. He still wasn’t comfortable with being treated like a baby or doing babyish things in front of his peers or other adults, because that’s not what “big boys” like him were supposed to do, and he assumed they still saw him that way. Size matters in all things to boys, Sandra thought, ruefully. The stigma that wider society attaches to needing or wearing diapers after a certain age was clearly ingrained on Mike’s psyche. Becoming a “big boy” who no longer needed to wear diapers had been a point of pride for him at one point in his life. And he was still holding on to the social expectations and norms that drove that pride, even if he wasn’t consciously aware of it. Sandra hated to admit it, but the competitive side of her was a little bit frustrated by Mikes slower “progression to regression” in this respect when compared to his peers in the regression cohort. He had been one of the first to start wetting the bed regularly at night (she knew he had been a bedwetter as a child until the age of 10), and that had given her false hope that a transition to daytime diapers would soon follow at a similarly accelerated pace. But that hadn’t been the case. Now, nearly 6 months into the program, most of the other littles in Mike’s cohort and in the neighborhood playgroup had moved past him into full time diaper dependency. Yet Mike remained that awkward kid - still in trainers, and still demanding to use the potty or to be changed when he had a public accident. But today Sandra had an opportunity to help change that.She waited until she saw his characteristic “number 2 fidgets” beginning, and then announced with feigned panic that she had lost track of time, and that they were going to be late for playgroup if they didn’t leave right this minute. In actual fact, they had plenty of time, but Mike didn’t know that. He had stopped paying attention to the clock months ago, satisfied in the knowledge that Sandra kept track of time for him. She hastily removed his diaper, gave him a cursory wipe (arriving at playgroup smelling a little bit like stale urine certainly couldn’t hurt his progress today), then pulled up his trainers and shorts. She stood them both up, grabbed his hand, and literally pulled him out the door to the car. She had conveniently “forgotten” his change bag on the counter in the kerfuffle. For his part, Mike had no time to object before he was pulled out the door. He also hadn’t had time to ask for the potty. He mentioned it to her now from the backseat as she drove, although he didn’t make it clear just how urgent the need was. Sandra smiled maternally, and told him that she’d be glad to help him make a big poopy as soon as they were at playgroup. It was true, in a way. She assumed that Mike would be able to hold his bowels while sitting down in the car with his bottom pressed tightly into the seat. But once they arrived at playgroup, it would be a different story. Standing or kneeling while temporarily distracted with new and fun toys was a virtual guarantee for poopy pants in Mike’s regressed condition. All she had to do was get him through the door and into the playroom without stopping for the potty. After that, nature (and the regression program) would take its course. And that’s what Sandra wanted. That’s what Mike needed. Because today, Sandra was going to help Mike show himself and the rest of the mommies and littles at playgroup that he is definitely not a big boy anymore. Today, Mike was going to do a big poop in his pants, in someone else’s living room, and while playing with another little’s distracting and unfamiliar toys. Today, Sandrawas going to be too engrossed in conversation with one of the other mommies to notice what was happening or to suggest he pause to use the toilet. Today, Mike was going to get his bottom sniffed suspiciously, and then have his pants checked for confirmation without warning, by someone else’s mommy. Today, a tearful Mike was going to have to tell her what he’d done in his pants in front of the other mommy she’d been chatting with, who would look on affectionately as she continued to nurse her own little. Today, Mike was going to learn that Sandra had forgotten to bring any spare trainers or shorts for him, and so they’d have to find another solution for his stinky and wet pants (unless he wanted to go home and stop playing with the fun new toys). Today, she’d help Mike come up with that solution on his own, providing only gentle encouragement to guide him toward the robvious answer. Today, Mike would experience the humiliation of having to ask another mommy if he could borrow a diaper - and having to tell her why (as if it wasn’t plainly obvious). Today, Mike was going to find out that mommies expect little boys like him to make poopies in their pants, and that no one was mad or upset at him for doing so. And of course there were spare diapers available for little boys like him who needed them. Today, Mike would toddle back over to Sandra, proudly holding the diaper he’d acquired, and ask her to put it on him with barely a hint of embarrassment. Today, Mike would experience a very public change.