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  1. Dale's Story 1-5

    Dale’s Story He was typing away furiously. His index fingers working like lightning to get every letter that was in his head down onto the computer. The keyboard rattled under the constant bombardment of Dale’s double digits, it was a shame he’d never got the hang of touch-typing, his keyboard would have been grateful not to suffer such a pounding. His head was full of stories and ideas but was having difficulty keeping up with each thought. Still he typed, desperate to get every nuance and sentence down, he knew he had a great story, he knew it would be a best-seller, he knew this was the one that would tip him from obscurity into the dizzy heights of celebrity and movie rights… this was the one. He sat back in the pool next to his villa on the beautiful isle of Ibiza and luxuriated in the balmy ambient temperature as yet another pink cocktail suddenly appeared by his side. He was warm, floaty and… and… and where had that cocktail appeared from…? Oh no, not again. ~ Dale woke up in his apartment deflated that it was only a dream. He surreptitiously looked across at his computer, hopeful that there might be something on the screen but alas, though he’d sleep-typed like a deranged secretary, it was all just a jumble of letters and numbers, none of which indicated the best-selling novel he’d hoped for. What’s more, that nice comforting warm ‘sunsation’ was beginning to get clammy and wet around his groin as he realised that all was not well beneath the crumpled blanket. He groaned. He’d gone almost a week without any night time wetting and had hoped that his problem was over. Alas, as the damp coolness became more obvious, he could only turn over, try to ignore it and return to sleep where everything was wonderful. He dozed fitfully. His moist underpants, clinging to his privates, producing an irritating itch that he just couldn’t ignore no matter how many times he drifted back to sleep. Unfortunately, those brief slips into oblivion were rudely interrupted by his need to scratch. A banging on his door brought him to full consciousness and, as he wandered to answer the constant knocking, the itch seemed all consuming. Standing in only his t-shirt and wet briefs whilst wildly scratching his groin he opened the door to see his irate Aunt Christine looking less than pleased. She took one look at him and pulled a face of disgust - then the smell of the room engulfed her. “Fucking hell Dale, this place smells worse than a Parisian pissoir.” She pushed past him and swatted his soggy cotton-clad bottom. He had no idea what a Parisian pissoir was but could guess from his aunt’s demeanour it was none too flattering. She could feel the damp on her hand even after such a brief little smack and that only increased her look of repugnance. ~ Eighteen year-old Dale was useless. His father certainly thought so and so, to a lesser extent, did his mother and two younger sisters. Not only was he useless but lazy, messy, muddled, unbelievably incompetent and, if it hadn’t been mentioned, USELESS. Some might have said that he was a very laidback young man, those who knew him saw the truth, and he was useless. It wasn’t that he was easy-going, didn’t have a care in the world, had himself ‘well sorted’, none of these descriptions really applied to him because he was useless, and, hopeless. His thin, five foot six inch frame, with thick greasy black hair and vacant green eyes seemed to carry the world on its shoulders when in fact; he hardly had any responsibilities at all. The lethargy seemed to seep from every bone in his body. The one, simple thing he had to do was keep an eye on his aunt’s property where he lived, rent free, and report back to her any problems or complaints from the student tenants who occupied the rest of the building. It was the simplest of jobs, even Aunt Christine thought he should be capable of carrying out such uncomplicated work as talking to the residents and reporting back. Unfortunately, it was all too much for Dale. He thought it was snooping and much preferred to get stoned with the group of 2nd years up on the top floor. He told them he was a writer (even though he’d never had anything published in his life) and as such they were a little in awe of their ‘talented’ neighbour. He didn’t mention that his aunt was their landlord and turned a blind eye to damage, both major and superficial, that the building seemed to acquire on a daily basis. However, word had got back to Aunt Christine and now it was time for action. ~ Dale’s bed-wetting had been one of the reasons his father had thrown him out. He couldn’t stand the fact that is eldest son was a ‘big baby’ and was tired of both he and his wife constantly cleaning up after him. He didn’t want a lazy, deadbeat son and was damned if everyone else was going to chase around for his benefit. His constant ‘zoned out’ attitude and complete detachment from what was going on around him was bugging everyone. One morning, four months ago, his father had simply told him to pack his stuff (the little he had) and find a place of his own. Stunned (and still slightly stoned) he picked up his bag and was just about to leave the house when his aunt arrived with a birthday present for one of his sisters. Aunt Christine was his father’s twin sister. She was eighteen minutes older than him but the difference was incredible. Whereas, at twenty one, when they had both received a modest inheritance, he’d got married, she’d invested in property. It was strange to see them together because, although Dale’s dad was brash and loud most of the time, he was no competition for his ballsy and strident sister to whom he meekly acquiesced. Yes, he may have been ‘cock-of-the roost’ in his own home but if she was around all that faded into the background. He would marshal the kids as if they were on parade for her inspection and his wife, Sandra, who was the most quietly spoken woman in the world, would scurry around plumping up cushions and making sure all was tidy for her visit. Christine didn’t expect such treatment but so in awe of her was the family, they all made that extra effort when she was around. ~ On seeing her nephew with his bag in the doorway she asked him if he was going on vacation. When his reply was that his father had just kicked him out he shrugged and set off on his way. Christine may have been a ball-crusher in business but she had a soft spot for her nephew and nieces, even if she did think their parents were idiots. She quickly came up with a solution, which to his credit her brother was dead against, in which she would employ Dale at a small salary and he could live rent free in one of her properties near the university. He would simply be the janitor and keep an eye on it for her. She didn’t think he could screw such a simple task up and waved away the protests of her brother. Of course now, and as much as it pained her to even think it, her brother had been correct, this simple job was way beyond her nephew’s capabilities. However, she saw beyond what Dale outwardly offered, and, so she didn’t praise her brother, decided that her nephew’s attitude was as much a result of his parent’s approach to raising children as it was himself. His father had chided his son at just about every opportunity from a very young age. Christine had watched, but not interfered, in this process but thought perhaps it wasn’t all Dale’s fault. However, she was now in a position to do something about it and she would be damned if she didn’t give it a try. ~ Christine looked around the rubbish tip that was, only a few months ago, quite a nice little apartment. Clothes, empty beer cans, cigarette ash, butts overflowing ashtrays and crockery, half-eaten pizza, boxes, dust, walked in mud, unmade messed up bed and that overpowering stink of stale urine, testosterone, cum, cigarettes and God knows what else pervading the small space… it was enough to make anyone retch. Standing in the middle of all this chaos and filth was her semi-naked, damp nephew who really didn’t know why his aunt was there. Such was the sudden shock of her arrival he wasn’t really all that aware that he was standing in just his wet, yellowing undies. “Oh, er, hi Aunt Christine, er, mmm,” Dale stumbled over his words, “what time is it? Is there a problem?” She took little notice of her nephew as she inspected the bed and noticed that the mattress was soaked through and had a stench that was hard to imagine. Her nose wrinkled in revulsion. At that point Christine’s business partner, Miss McCloud, walked in, took one look at the thin, stinky boy that stood in front of her, looked across at Christine and said. “I’ll take him home.” Within seconds she had a blanket wrapped around him and was being guided to her car. She didn’t give him time to find any clothes; the mess was way beyond finding anything that wasn’t in a similar state to what he now wore. Besides, if Christine was held in high regard, then Miss McCloud’s reputation for no nonsense was even more terrifying to those who knew her. Christine and Miss McCloud made a formidable team; organised, competent, tough, uncompromising and had vision, which made for scary opponents should you get on the wrong side of either of them. Dale had wanted to protest, he wanted to at least put his trainers on and a pair of jeans but Miss McCloud would have none of it. “Best get you away from all this,” she said eyeing the debris that was all around, “before your aunt has time to think.” Slowly realising that he had in fact, sort of, maybe, fucked up ,and fearing his aunt’s anger, made Miss McCloud’s strong hands directing him away from trouble as quickly as possible, seemed a good idea. ~ The drive to his aunt’s house was in silence. He sat shivering, not because he was cold but he was desperate for some weed, or a cigarette or something and he also began to worry what his aunt would say when they were alone. Wriggling uncomfortably in his itchy drying pants was the distraction he needed as he scratched at his crotch, much to Miss McCloud’s disgust. The detached house, set in its own grounds, was huge compared to his family’s home and proved just how well his aunt had done over the years. The house was over seventy years old, with four large reception rooms and kitchen on the ground floor, four bedrooms (two en-suite) and a large family bathroom on the second and a converted attic space that made another bedroom/study. The driveway was beautifully landscaped, whilst at the rear of the property there was a large garden where fresh vegetables, tomatoes, fruit trees and flowers were tended by Aunt Christine and Miss McCloud, they lived together. Miss McCloud held her breath for as long as she could but had to roll down the window in the car to get some air circulating and flush out the smell of her occupant. She wasn’t sure if it was just urine, BO or what but there was no doubt that the first challenge was to get him cleaned up, and odour free. Once in the house Miss McCloud guided her blanket-covered charge straight up to the bathroom. She ran him a bath as he stood stock still desperate for his first ‘toke’ of the day and still slightly shivering as to what the immediate future held. Once the bath was full and scent and bubbles had been added Miss McCloud indicated he should get in. He was reluctant getting naked in front of this lady but she was having none of this false modesty. “Get in the bath now.” He shook his head and turned to leave. Not a wise thing to do. She yanked off his protecting blanket and delivered a couple of fierce swats to his retreating butt with the wooden back scrubber. Stunned, Dale didn’t know what to do but all decisions were taken away from him as he was stripped and, trying desperately to hide his penis, shoved towards the bath. “Now, no more of this silliness, get in.” Thoroughly chastised, and in fear of another walloping, he settled himself gingerly into the foam, his sore and throbbing bottom now the only thing on his mind. Once he was submerged Miss McCloud immediately rolled up her sleeves and commenced bathing him. Dale was actually scared of her as she’d proved she wouldn’t take any sort of disagreement. For the fourth time she rinsed the shampoo from his thick mop of black hair and still wasn’t happy that it was yet clean enough. He got a thorough all over scrubbing and another application of shampoo, followed by an aggressive scalp massage, which Miss McCloud hoped would finally clean out the last of the greasy mop; although she still wasn’t one hundred percent happy and thought a more radical procedure was called for. The head massage wasn’t unpleasant, Dale actually quite liked it. He’d forgotten what fun it was to be, well, looked after. He sat in the warm suds and as Miss McCloud was doing all the work, perhaps, he thought, the swats to his behind had been worth it to get this kind of treatment. Eventually, after quite some time, Miss McCloud seemed satisfied that he was as clean as she could get him. She made him stand up and inspected his body. Again he tried to cover himself up but a swat to his hand and a very stern look made him put his hands to his side and let her get on with her inspection. She was more than a little concerned about the angry looking rash that appeared to surround his genitals and bottom, no doubt caused by his constant wetness. She dried him off and then, covered in only the thick towel, led him up to the room in the attic. ~ The room was pleasant but designed for an eight year-old. In fact it was originally designed for Miss McCloud’s young son, Harry. Unfortunately, when she divorced her husband (a house master at one of the UK’s top private schools) it was he who got custody and she only had access occasionally. Her son was already enrolled at the school (which she agreed was a good idea) but as a result she rarely saw her boy. However, when she did, there was a room already prepared for him. Still, since the room had been equipped, Harry had only ever visited twice- the fact that she’d shacked-up with Christine hadn’t helped her custody case but that was another story altogether. There was a bed, in the shape of a racing car, a closet with a few of Harry’s clothes, a night stand, a desk and chair, a fully laden bookcase - it was minimalistic but comfortable for an eight year-old but a bit of a surprise for an eighteen year-old. “I’m staying,” Dale looked around in bewilderment, “in a kid’s room?” “For the moment.” Miss McCloud gently guided him further into its centre “Now,” she said pulling away the towel, “let’s get you organised.” Dale was again nervous about being naked but that look told him to stop any thought of argument and see how things transpired. She pointed to large thick-pile rug on the floor and told Dale to lie out on it. He had that questioning look but Miss McCloud was already reaching for tubes of cream. “This ointment will relieve the itching,” she said as she began to apply it to his groin, “and should begin the healing process.” She smoothed it on thickly, “Though it may take some time as it’s a very severe rash.” Dale closed his eyes desperately trying to block out her tickling fingers as she layered the cream onto every part of his most sensitive, though itchy, areas. She told him to flip over and did the same to his very spotty and inflamed rump, which of course hadn’t been helped by the fierce swats she’d delivered earlier. The cooling balm seemed to have an instant effect and the itching gradually began to fade. Miss McCloud told him to lift his legs and, wondering what she was going to do next, hold them up. She slipped an unfolded disposable nappy under his bottom and told him he could let his legs down. Realising what was about to happen he rolled onto his side in a bid to get away. “I’m not wearing a fucking nappy for god’s sake. I’m eighteen not eighteen months…” His displeasure would have continued if Miss McCloud had not delivered another series of forceful swats to his naked backside and told him, in no uncertain terms, to get his bottom back onto the nappy. Twice now, in a matter of just a few minutes he’d been spanked, even his father had never resorted to that kind of punishment. It hurt and he didn’t like it. Through a gathering of tears he begged Miss McCloud to come up with an alternative to him having to wear a nappy. There was no negotiation and, having added a couple of thick pads to the unfurled disposable and sprinkled baby powder all over his exposed area, she quickly pulled it between his legs and taped it into place. Dale was holding back anger, frustration and tears in equal amounts but she just patted it around his groin to make sure it fit snugly and then, to Dale’s final humiliation, pulled up a pair of stiff, tight-fitting clear plastic pants. The pleasing crinkle meant that it was a tough, if not very pliable, material that would hold in whatever Dale delivered into his nappy. “There now, doesn’t that feel better?” Miss McCloud was smiling now that the job was done. “You’ll feel better once the antiseptic cream starts to work and it shouldn’t be too long before we get that nasty rash under control.” “But I’m wearing a nappy,” Dale sobbed. “I shouldn’t have to…” “Dale,” Miss McCloud grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes, “you are a mess. You were wet, your place stunk of old urine and we don’t as yet know if you have a problem or you just don’t care.” She let her words sink in. “But, until we know we can trust you not to pee everywhere we will be taking this precaution. It’s as much for your own good as the welfare of our furniture.” Dale would have given anything at that moment to be elsewhere and preferably high as a kite somewhere but that wasn’t to be. He moaned and tried to argue the point but he’d come up against an immovable object and she was determined to see it through. “The thick fabric will keep all the creams next to your skin and should make it heal much quicker.” She then looked at him and gave a stern warning. “If you try to take it off without your aunt’s or my express permission you will be treated as a naughty little boy and punished...” she let her words sink in, “and I don’t mean the gentle taps you’ve received… so far.” Dale shivered at the thought of something worse than what his sore bottom had already encountered; he didn’t like the sound of that and he certainly didn’t want to experience it either. “What about my clothes?” He whined. “I should think they are all on a bonfire by now, you’d let yourself get into such a pathetic, smelly state.” She smiled a modicum of encouragement. “However, your aunt only wants what’s best for you and intends to do whatever is needed to put things right.” “Yes,” he brightened up a little, “Aunt Christine won’t be pleased about all this, she’ll tell you off for dressing me as a baby, you’ll see, she won’t be happy.” The enthusiasm he had at the start of the sentence began to fade as he realised that she was probably the architect of all this. The noise his thick plastic pants generated as he moved even slightly wormed its way into his head and trembled a little once he grasped that perhaps this was only the start. ______ tbc
  2. I have had so many different idea's for stories for a while but nothing I really wanted to write even with Halloween coming up. Then one strange dream later and here we are. Not completely sure where this is going to go but I know it shouldn't be too long and will be done before Halloween. Let's Play Diaper Land Chapter 1 "Mommy wow, I'm a big kid now!" A little girl on the TV screen was jumping up and down as she finished pulling up her "big girl" underpants. Laying sideways across the recliner Jess turns her head to face Sam, Karen and Emily who were all sitton on the couch or the ground watching the TV as well. With a coy smile on her face she said, "Hey Emily, you wear those don't you?" The room filled with laughter for a few moments as Emily's face turn a deep shade of red. "I was 12 and it was only at night, you know that!" The four young collage girls were sitting around the TV on a boring, rainy Saturday afternoon. Jess had invited them all over to relax the day away, but as the day was going by it was clear boredom was setting it. That was when the power suddenly shut off. "What the hell?!" Jess moaned getting out of her chair to look outside, she couldn't tell if the other houses had power or not through the ran. She dragged herself over to the breaker box to see if they tripped anything. She had caused the breaker to trip for her bathroom before when she used everything at once so she knew what to look for but everything seemed fine. "Sorry girls, guess we're done until power turns on." The others didn't seem to care one way or another, it wasn't like they were doing anything really exiting anyway. "Do you have any board gamers or something?" Emily asked. Jess made her way over to the living room closet, "Ya my mother loves to pick them up when she goes thrift store shopping." The closet was full of many different board game, Chess, Checkers, Monopoly, Life, Sorry and more. It wasn't until Emily lifted Candly Land out of the way did she see it, a big wooden box with what looked like a diaper engraved on the front with the words "Diaper Land" accross the front. Jess saw the game she had picked up and chuckles, "Figures." "Have you ever played it?" Emily asked. Jess looked at the box for a long moment. "No, I've never seen it. Don't know when Mom picked it up. It looks old." The box was old but still seemed in good shape. Emily opened it with Jess looking over her shoulder, it looked like a Candy Land board but with a baby theme to it. In the middle there was a plastic mound that kinda looked like a magic 8 ball but white. In a triangle around it was writen 3 words, Nursery, Daycare and Playground. On the side sides that had folded out there were four player pieces: a bottle, pacifier, rattle and diaper as well as the rules for the game, which Emily started reading allowed. DIAPER LAND RULES Prove your not a baby! In Diaper Land players take turns rolling 2 dice to move across the board. The first player picks the game location Babies are eliminated from the game Players with a poopy diaper are demoted to baby Players who cheat will be demoted to baby The first player to reach the end and call out "Diaper Land" wins The winner get one wish "Well guess you already loss Emily, your already baby." This time it was Sam making fun of her. "You know what, I say we play and see who the baby here really is!" Emily wasn't mad, but she was tired of being called baby all the time. Even if it was just a game she wanted to prove she wasn't the baby of the group. Before she could say anything else Jess reach over and grabbed the bottle, "I call the bottle!" Sam quickly called the rattle and Karen the pacifier, this left Emily with the diaper. They placed the game on the living room table and the four of them sat on the floor and placed their pieces at START. "We'll let the baby go first, that seems fair. Then go clockwise." That would mean Emily first, then Karen, Sam and Jess last. Emily took the dice in her hand and was about to roll when Jess stopped her. "Did you forget you have to pick a location." Emily Looked down and saw the 3 location on the board, she though for a moment then put her hand on "daycare." "I pick Daycare," she said. As soon as she said it the letters lit up and suddenly a wave of mist started pouring from the game like water. The 4 girls sat in shock as the mist went around the house as everything in the house began to change. The couch was gone and a large toy chest was in it's place. The carpet changed colors and soft music could be heard in the back ground. Bit by bit the room changed until the mist itself was gone and the four girls were in a daycare surrounded with babies all over the room just playing with their toys like nothing happened. Jess's face was filled with shock, confusion and a bit of fear, "I don't want to play anymore..."
  3. Once when I was making items for a head shop. For those that does not know what the definition of one. A head shop sells things like bongs, pipes, stones for the sole purpose of smoking weed. Some of our items can be found as drug antiques because I learned that people were collecting the decorative pipes and using our stones as beads. Our group had just gotten paid and tend to sound like a mouse when I talk. I am very slender and had not gained any weight since high school. Our gang of guys had just been paid by the head shop owner and were leaving. This business was beside the public library. All of us had the same amount of money and we were just horsing around with each other. We used coarse language, but we did not know there were children, teenagers, and adults at the library. I knew that there were patrons at the library. I look sort of young for my age and I thought I could verbally take on anyone in a verbal argument. A mother and her two daughters came out and heard us. I was the one using the worst language of our group. This was the first time I had ever been confronted by someone quite younger than I was and all in the group. The mother was watching us as her cute little seven or eight year old daughter spoke to us in private. She said to all of us,"you guys thing you all are so cool. You think you all think you all are tough as a gang. You all are just a gang of big boys that needs to be taken to the fountain yonder" she pointed at the fountain in front of the library "all of you need to have your pants pulled down and your rear ends spanked until you all can not sit, but on a pillow." we were speechless comment, but we had a bus to catch. She told her mother what she had said and she commented, "how did yoyu know they weren't a group of street hooligans?" She said, "No one that goes to one of those places never carries anything like that."
  4. Bryson stared at the screen, running his fingers through his thick red hair. It was soaked with sweat. How long had he been doing this?He looked over at the clock on his desk and moaned. It was almost three am, and he still hadn’t finished editing his paper! He looked back at the screen and started scrolling and typing as fast as he could. How could there be so many mistakes? Spelling error after spelling error… It was like he hadn’t even passed high school! God, if only he hadn’t left it until the last minute.Well, he told himself, he kind of had to. He had been working, trying to pay off the bills for university. He had to move all his stuff into his new room, do his readings, aattend classes. Just thinking about it almost made him sick to his stomach.Except that that wasn’t really true. He had also attended his fair share of party. He didn’t really enjoy them so much, he kind of just stood around watching others drink, but he was hoping to meet people. He had also spent MORE then his fair share of time playing video games. Really, he could have started this days ago.He sighed, and looked at his paper. He guess that would have to do. He had class in a few hours, and hadn’t slept much the night before either, having spent his time online. His roommate was already asleep. He emailed it to himself for printing, and turned off the computer.He got undressed, setting his glasses down on the desk and his black shirt and jeans on the chair. He lay down and stared out the window, seeing the stars filling the sky. He was exhausted, but the anxiety and stress kept him up. God, wouldn’t it be better if he could live without all this stress? Couldn’t there be a world where he didn’t have to worry about it? He looked at one of the stars, wishing and hoping beyond hope that somehow it would all work out. A silly thought, he knew. Wishing on stars never worked. But it was comforting to think that somehow it would make a difference, leading him to a stress free life. Slowly, he closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.…Bryson woke up to the feeling of someone shaking him.“Hey, Bryson. Get up. Bryson, hey, come on,” a voice said.Bryon opened his eyes to see Mark, his roommate, staring down at him. Mark was a tall, broad shouldered man his own age, with brown haired and brown eyes. He was always dressed very maturely, with a collared shirt on…. Wait, was he always that tall?Bryson sat up and looked at him. No, Mark wasn’t any taller. Everything in the room was proportional. Yet, somehow, he just seemd more…“You know you’re going to be late, right?” Mark asked.Bryson snapped out of his daze and looked at his clock. “#*[email protected]!” he shouted. It was 8:25, his class started at 8:30. He realized he had forgot to start the alarm. Mark must have got up for a later class and noticed he was still asleep.“Thanks!” he shouted at Mark, who watched with a disappointed look on his face. Bryson grabbed his clothes, all black jeans with a chain and a t-shirt, and pulled them on quickly. “Are you sure you really want to go for the gothic look? It really isn’t very mature… Between being late and that, you’re kind of asking for it,” Mark said, in a tone like he was warning someone who he knew wouldn’t listen.“Yes, and don’t tell me what to do!” Bryson snapped, irritated. Normally he wasn’t that angry, but the exhaustion and rush made him upset. “Wait… asking for what?”Mark sighed and shurged, then watched him leave.Bryson looked at his watch and began to run. It was 8:32, he was already late. Papers were handed in at thee beginning of class… “#*&$! THE PAPER!” He had forgotten to print it off. He changed direction and began to run toward the library, where there were printers for student use. It was across campus, and he wasn’t sure if he would make it.Finally, he arrived, and slowed to a walk. He stopped for a moment. Goth cloths weren't designed for running, especially in the summer. Finally he continued into the library, a large brown building designed with odd looping shapes and angled rooms.He walked past crowds of students rushing to get to computer desks or book shelves. Did the people in the library seem different? They all seemed to be a bit older. He looked closely. There was John, Sarah, Michael… No, they all looked the same. They just seemed somehow more mature. They stared at him with disappointment in their eyes. Why did he keep seeing that look?He reached one of the computers and turned it on. Did it always take this long to load? He got on, logged onto his student name, found the email and printed it off. Then he was out again, running toward the class.He finally arrived at the class just as it was ending. People filtered out of the hall, and he squirmed by them. They all had that same look on their faces, somehow more mature, looking at him with disappointment and, he noticed, something else. Was that adoration? Something like looking at a puppy or someone much younger.He finally made it into the class room, a large auditorium with grey walls and chairs seemingly designed to make any class as boring as possible. The professor, a white haired and bearded man in the usual tweed jacket was at the desk at the front, filing papers. Bryson ran down the steps toward him.“Uhhh… Hello Mr... I mean Dr. Livingstone,” Bryson said nervously.He looked up and stared a Bryson with spectacles eyes. “Ahh yes, Bryson is it? Late again? I assume that is your paper.” He pointed at the sheets in Bryson’s hands.“Oh! Yes! I was going to give it to you! I.. uhh… “ Bryson stared at the papers. They had become rumpled as he ran, and even picked up dirt. “I’m sorry. I missed my alarm..”“I don’t want your excuses Bryson,” the professor sighed, taking the papers. He looked through them carefully. “Did you edit this? Look, you misspelled “literacy” in the first paragraph! This is full of mistakes!”Bryson hung his head. “I did, I was just tiered.”“Mhhmm. Let me ask you something Bryson. Have you been doing this sort of thing in other classes?”“Ummm... no,” Bryson said, his heart jumping as he lied. He had been, but he didn't want to professor to know.The professor looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Yes, you have. I know, I had heard the stories. Do you really think that this is the sort of thing an adult should be wearing?” he pointed at Bryson’s torn jeans and shirt.“Uhh… No, I guess not,” Bryson said, blushing.“They aren’t. Most people give up on those 'looks' in high school. You are in university now, you should be beyond that. Now I have one final question. Did you shave this morning?”“What?” Bryson was taking aback by the strange question. He realized he had forgotten. “No I didn’t have time,” he said. He ran his hand along his chin, expecting to find stubble. He was surprised to find himself clean shaven.“That’s what I though. Listen, you might want to reconsider your behavior. This level of immaturity never works out well. I’ve seen several students go through it, and almost always end up… Well, I’m sure you can see where this is going, can’t you?”“Yes,” Bryson said, hearing the implied threat of failing university.“Good, then let’s not have a repeat, alright?”“Yes sir,” Bryson said, and left. What was that all supposed to mean? And why the question about shaving? He felt his face again. Why was there no stubble? (Note: This one is a slow burner, at least compared to my others. Don't worry, it will get to the usual stuff. It is reusing the world I wrote about in "Switch," though that story isn't referenced and it won't matter if you've read it or not. While Switch wasn't my favorite of my own stories, I really liked the world I made, so I am using it again. Also, this was written as part of an art trade with Bryson (masterofevil44 on DA) where I could control most of the plot but use him as a main character. Any comments or critiques are appreciated!)
  5. A New Life

    (Actual title: "A New Life." I am trying to fix that. Slowly, you begin to wake up, feeling groggy. Your bed feels... different. Softer. In your tired state you can't tell exactly what it is, but something isn't right. It feels like your blankets bunched up between your legs, and you can't get your knees together. Something is definitely wrong. Maybe you are still dreaming? You have an odd taste in your mouth. It feels like something is sitting between your lips. You try to spit it out, but can't. You reach over to take it out... but your arm won't move. With a start, you realized your hand is tied. You open your eyes in shock, but in the dim light you can't see much. This isn't your room. Your eyes begin to adjust and you see more and more. You are surrounded by bars... are you in a cage? You try wiggling around, kicking off the blankets. What the hell are you wearing? You are dressed in a pink, footed onesie. Around your waist you see a buldge. With horror, you realize that you are wearing a diaper. This isn't a cage, its a crib! The lights flicker on, blinding you momentarily. "Ahhh I see the baby girl is awake. Did you sleep well honey?" a strange voice asks. You look toward the voice to see a tall women standing in the doorway. She has long brown hair that falls over thick shoulders and arms. Clear blue eyes look at you with compassion. She is holding a baby bottle. A BIG baby bottle. Big enough for you, even. You try to ask what is going on, but can't speak through what you now realize is a pacifier, tied behind your head. Getting a better look at your outfit, you notice cartoon princesses covering your onsie, and "Diapered Princess" written across the chest. Your hands are locked in finger less gloves, rendering them useless, and you can feel a frilly bonnet on your head and tied under you chin. You are dressed like a one year old girl. A nearby mirror reveals the words "Messy Diaper Butt" written on the flap of the onesie. "Awww don't worry baby. Just let mommy check your diaper and we can untie you for breakfast. That sound nice? Just promise not to be a bad baby, or you will get a spanking." The women tells you, standing over you. She reaches down to open the flap on your onsie, revealing a thick, infantile diaper with "Baby" written across the front in pink. "Looks like someones dry!" She says, pinching your cheek, "Good baby! Keep this up and maybe one day we can begin potty training... In a year or so..." At this point your surprise and fear turns to anger. How can this woman humiliate you like this? You try to struggle against her as she unties your arms and lifts you up but to know avail. Your moments turn into uncoordinated squirming, and you realize you have little control over your limbs. A hard smack on your diaper stops you completely. "Now now, if I'm gonna untie you you have to be a good baby. Try that again and I'll give you a real spanking. OK?" You stop the pointless squirming. How can you be so weak? What the hell is going on. The woman sits you in a high chair, strapping you in place. The diaper crinkles underneath you as you wiggle on the seat, wondering what is going on. The padding feels like a cushion underneath you, but serves as a constant humiliating reminder of your diapered state. Even worse, you are seated right in front of a window facing a street and another row of houses. You recognize the neighborhood as one near your own home. What if someone sees you? A bowl of unidentifiable mush sits in front of you, along with the bottle she was carrying earlier. She doesn't intend to feed you this, does she? In answer to the question, she unties something behind your head and removes the pacifier. You try to speak, to ask what is going on, but she quickly spoons mush into your mouth. "Open up for the airplane! Vroommm vrooom!" She says as she forces the sweet goo down your throat. You gag and choke it back, forced to eat by her constant shoveling. Finally you can take it no more. "Wai! Wha goin on?" With horror you realize that is your own voice. A high pitched squeal, with words lisped and barely formed. What had happened to you? "NO! No more foo! Stop oo F---ing b----!" "What! How dare you? Is that how babies talk? Come here!" The woman pulls you out of the high chair and grabs you by the wrist.You scream curses as you are forced to waddle behind her, your thick diaper making walking normally impossible. She pulls you down the hallway and into a bathroom. Once there, she forces open your mouth and sticks a bar of soap into it. The bitter soap instantly fills your mouth with suds, and you try to spit it out, only to have it replaced. "Alright, listen. You are going to learn to be a good baby whether you like it or not. Now I am going to spank you 20 times. If you drop the soap, we restart." She couldn't be serious...! A spanking? At your age? You spit out the bar again. "Oo can't pank me! I am..." You only get that far when her hand smacks the back of your diaper. Even through the padding, it stings. "I told you to keep the soap in your mouth! BAD BABY!" the woman says as she replaces the soap and begins to rain down smacks upon your bottom. SPANK 1... SPANK 2... SPANK 3... You struggle to keep the mouth in as she counts out the blows. You are forced to suck on it, swallowing the suds as you do. Your bottom gets sorer and sorer. She is nearing the end. SPANK 19... SPANK 20. "Good baby!" She sits you on her lap, and takes out the soap. "Will you be a good baby for mommy from now on?" "Wes I sowwy! I be a goo baby!" "Good, now lets get you back in your high chair while I clean your dishes, then we can play with your toys." She pops the pacifier back in your mouth and carries you to the kitchen. You can still taste soap. She sits you in the chair. You struggle to get comfortable on the hard seat. Even through the padding, your sore bottom stings whenever you put weight on it. For once, you are grateful for the diaper. Suddenly you realize you may need the diaper for something else. Your bladder is extremely full, aching for release. Even worse, you can feel your stomach rumbling. If you don't think fast, soon you will be in a very uncomfortable diaper. "uhhh... mama?" you ask, trying to sound as childish as possible to get on her good side. "Yes baby?" "I has do go potty" you inform her, blushing. Surely she can't mean you to use the diaper. "Well that's what your diaper is for silly! Anyway, I am working here, so you won't be let down for a while. I will change you when I'm done" "No! Pwease don make me!" You cry, seeing you please ignored. You squirm back and forth, trying to press your knees together. The padding between your legs isn't helping much. You can't... But it is getting harder and harder to hold it in. Those muscle relaxants really are taking there toll. Perhaps you could wet, but she wouldn't force you to MESS yourself, would she? At least you could keep that dignity. Hoping to meet her half way, you let go of your bladder. Instantly you hear a hissing noise as you feel you diaper become soaked. The diaper inflates around you. Soon you are sitting in a warm, wet, puddle. You blush furiously. How could she make you do that!?! Pissing yourself like a toddler... What the hell was going on? Even worse, you can feel the pressure building in your gut. There is no way it could get this bad that quickly! She must have put something in the mush... Soon your diaper will be full of something much worse then pee. (so this is a much older story I wrote a while ago. I thought I had already submitted it here, but can't find it. If I am mistaken, please let me know. I normally ask or critiques, but since this is an older one and I've sort of moved on from this type of writing, it is fine. Also, more will come)
  6. The Apology

    The game was fast and fierce. The players quickly covered the map, looking for animated weapons and built in cover. At the same time, they were shooting constantly, trying to hit anyone on the opposing team.However, what was even more furious was the chatter. The players shouted insults and instructions through their microphones and into the headphones of their opponents.“You #$%# CAMPER! START PLAYING THE GAME!”“PUSSY! I #$% YOUR MOM!”“ABSHLEY54s hacking!”“No I’m not. GIT GUUUUUDD!”The game wore on. One player slowly began to moving up the ranks, taking out opponent after opponent. He went by the name Olliemaus3000, and his character was a large, buff man wielding a gigantic machine gun. His profile gave a description of himself that closely matched this character, even detailing workout routines and diet plans to intimidate his opponents.Though few of the other players knew it, this couldn’t have been further to the truth. Anyone with a discerning eye and enough knowledge could probably tell the workout routine and diet plan was made up, as it was based mainly off of cartoons and a lot of it didn’t really work in real life. The author didn’t seem to realize that fire bending wasn’t a real martial art and that protein shakes weren’t the ones made with ice cream. However, only a few of his closer friends new of his real identity.That identity, of course, was of Ollie, a small, white haired and green eyed boy who, despite being of an age most went to college, still played with stuffed animals in his spare time, and despite his ‘tough guy’ façade online, probably would have been too afraid to go to a gym. With the lifestyle he lead, he had learned to avoid anyone who looked like he might be able to give a hard spanking, and gyms were full of those kinds of people. Rather than coming from his own actual personality, his ability in games came from the fact he essentially had everything taken care of at home and could spend a lot of time playing them. Also, for reasons few knew, he never seemed to need bathroom breaks. He had built up a decent reputation in these games because of it.However, his reputation was about to drastically, drastically change.He was moving his character up a ramp to high ground, which he hoped to use to his advantage.“Hey noobs! What are you doing? Cover me so I can get here? LEARN TO PLAY.”He wasn’t great at the insults, but he tried his best.His character was moments from reaching the top when he got gunned down.“#@!$” he said, loudly.“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” a loud female voice said.All the other’s heared after that was “Oh $#!%.... “ followed by an “eep” as if the person speaking had tried to silence himself. What they didn’t hear were the loud footsteps marching toward Ollie.Ollie's voice was back on the channel. “I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean No… I’m sorry mommy!” I promise I won’t do it gain!”At this point all other chatter had stopped as people tried to hear what was going on.“HEY! NO PLEASE NO! IT’S THE MIDDLE OF A GAME! PLEASE LATTER! NO! OW!”“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NOT THAT! NO I’m SORRY! AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!”The other players heard the loud ‘thump’ of headphones being thrown against the ground, then then light, quick patter of small footsteps followed by the clamping of much larger ones, as if there was a mouse being chased by a person.All playing had stopped.“What is going on?” someone asked.PATPATPATPATPATPAPTAPTPA THUMP CRRRASSSHHH… There was more running, followed by the crashing noises and loud bumps and the sound of something shattering. “YOU”LL PAY FOR THAT VASE OLLIE!” A door swung open, then was slammed quickly, and there was more screaming. “I GOT YOU… HEY! NO BITING YOU LITTLE BRAT!” a loud voice shouted.Someone else spoke up in a confident voice. “Well… Ollie lives as a sub to someone else… I think he pissed them off.” It was one of the regulars who knew Ollie.“A submissive? Really? THAT guy?”“GET BACK HERE NOW!”“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” There were more footsteps.“Yes, he talks about it sometimes.”“Whats that mean?”“Well basically he is taken care of and has everything paid for by someone else, but he does what they say.”“Sounds like a sweet deal.”“OH GOD PLEASE OH GOD NO NOT THAT! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! OW OW OW!”“On second thought, maybe not that sweet a deal.”“It’s an acquired taste apparently. He does get a lot of video games though.”"I thought he said he was some kind of professional fighter or a weight lifter or something.""AAAAAAA WAHH NO PLEASE AAAAAAAAA!""... I don't think so."The screaming had turned high pitched and panicked as the footsteps ran up a flight of stairs, then crashed down them.THMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP SLAM “OW! OOOOOO…. NO”“OH MY GOD! ARE YOU OK? Did you hurt yourself in the fall? Poor baby…” the louder voice asked worriedly.“Yes mommy, I’m ok.”“Good. Then come on.”"No... uh ohh...."There was a pause.“OW! MY EAR! HEY! THOSE ARNN”T HANDLES!”“HEY! PLEASE I”LL COME! JUST CAUSE THEY”RE BIG DOESN”T MEAN THEY”RE FOR GRABBING! OW I SAID I”D COME!”“WHERE ARE WE GO… NO PLEASE MOMMY!” NOT IN HERE! THEY WILL HEAR EVERYTHING!”The sound of the shouting had gotten much closer and now appeared to be in the same room as the microphone.“Good. Then maybe you’ll learn your lesson better,” came the reply.“No please let me keep them on… please not bare… not like AH!”There was a moment of shuffling noise.SMACK!All the other players, not intently listening, jumped at the noise.SMACK! The second was followed by a loud “OW!”The sounds continued to pick up.SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! “OW OW OW OW!”“Is he…”SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK“I think he is.”“OW OW OW OW!”The confident voice spoke again. “Oh yeah. He’s getting spanked.”SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK “OW OW OW OW I’m SORRRRRRRRY!”The game still sat unmoving as all players listened intently.“NO… NO NOT THAT! THAT’S SO GRROO MMPPHHHBRAB”“Well I’m not going to let your mouth get that dirty without cleaning it, am I?SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!The spanking had continued, getting faster and faster as Ollie’s voice turned from calling out to whimpering and cries.“Now are you going to behave yourself?” “MHMMM” came a sad voice.“Good.”“BLAHH PITU PITU!” it sounded like Ollie was spitting.“Aheh… Aheheh… WAAAHH!! I’m SORRY MOMMY!” The sounds of the punishment were replaced with Ollie’s crying. It went on a minute with few other noises save a small patting sound.“There there little guy, its ok,” the female voice said. It began to hum and sing “Mockingbird” soothingly.“Awww that’s sooo… so precious!”“Poor little guy, he sure has it rough.”“Yes. Funny he tried to seem so tough.”The crying soon became sniffling, then stopped. There was a paused for a few moments, during which the players waited, wondering whether they were going to come back.Eventually Ollie’s voice was on the microphone again.“Did… how much did you guys here of that?”“All of it Ollie, all of it.” The confident voice said.“Yes. Your “Mommy” seems nice,” one said, followed by some laughter.The strict feminine voice came on through Ollie's microphone. "Hello everyone. If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment, little Ollie here has something to say.""Noooo! Please don't make me mommy," Ollie complained."Do it!""But... but I don't wannnna! They are all my friends! It'll be embarrassing!""Do it.""But its soooo MEAN!" he whined. "I have to look tough in these games! It won't work after.""Ollie, I'm going to count to three."“I can’t count that high. I'm a baby."“Are you lying again? Should I get the soap?”“NO! SORRY!"“Onnneee!”Silence."Twooooo..."Silences."Two and a half"The sound of someone fidgeting from foot to foot, then more silence."Two and three quarters."Silence."THr""AAA! OK OK don't be mean I'll do it yeesh.""So you'll do it?""...Yes."“Yes what?“Please not here…”“Yes WHAT!?”“… Yes mommy…”More laughter, and a few awws."Hi...hi everyone.""HIII OLLIE!" They answered almost in unison, then laughed.Ollie took a deep breath then continued. (This is part 1 of 2, the conclusion will come soon.This is written with reference to the artist Pastel-Hime, who allowed me to use her character and a drawing as basis for this story.I tried writing this using a different method then normal. Rather then explaining what was happening, I wanted to imply it from the other players reactions and the sounds. I am not sure how I feel. I like that it is different and kind of silly, but it means there is a lack of visuals. Any thoughts?)
  7. As Sam Gregory awoke one morning from a night of fitful dreams, he found he had been transformed in his bed into a giant baby. He lay on his back and looked up to see himself in a long pair of baby blue footed pajamas, with the soft bulge of a diaper around his waist. He tried to move his arms and legs, and the movements were weak and uncoordinated. He didn't seem to be physically different. His appearance was the same, and he was the same size, but his clothing and ability to move properly had taken a bizarre turn."What is happening to me!?" he wondered. It wasn't a dream- he could feel the bizzare clothing and weak movements as much as see them. He looked around himself. Between the four walls, the rather small but undeniably ADULT room, as it always had been. On his desk were scattered bundles of paperwork and cloth samples- Sam was a travelling salesman- and above it a framed picture of Batman. "Ok" he though "maybe that part isn't quite adult, but STILL! This is ridiculous!" His gaze shifted to the window. It was early morning and the sun had risen but was blocked by cheerless clouds hinting at rain. "Perhaps I'll just go back to sleep and forget this nonsense," he thought. However, that wouldn't work well. He was used to sleeping with blankets, which he guessed he had kicked to the floor. With his new restricted mobility, grabbing them would prove difficult."This is such BS" he thought as he squirmed on his back. He tried to get himself over on his front to move, but his arms and legs weren't cooperating. "You work your entire life, learning to walk, use the toilet, talk, all this stuff, get these stressful jobs, then one day out of the blue BAM! Its all gone. How does this even make sense?" He finally managed to turn himself over to his front. He threw his legs off the side of the bed and tried to stand up, but was met but at sudden pain in his feet. He collapsed to the ground. "Oh great, now I have to crawl?!" He thought. He was near giving up. That effort had all but drained him, and he still found his efforts frustrated. He was near tears, and he wanted simply to begin crying and wait for someone to come help him. "It must be the work," he thought. "Get up every day early, spend you time travelling around when all you want is comfort- of course it will drive a man insane! Much better to just stay at home and let others take care of you, do all the work, feed you, change your... NO! That is what they want me to think." He wasn't certain who 'they' were exactly. However, it seemed someone or something wanted to make him act like a baby, and he wasn't going to play along.He fought back tears. Wanting to cry and be taken care of was all part of it. He wouldn't find a solution be complaining or lying in bed. He'd get up, solve the problem, and go to work, one way or another.He looked at his clock. "Good God!" he thought. It was half past seven, he was running late. He began to crawl towards his cabinet. A voice came from the hallway. "SAM!" It was his older flatmate, Sarah. "What are you doing? Are you ready for work?""Yes, one second! I..." Sam stopped. Was THAT his voice? It wasn't the deep, manly voice he was used to. It was soft and high pitched."Is something wrong with your voice? Are you sick?""I... I don't know. I think so!""I'm coming in!""NOOO!""What is that? Why does he sound funny?" that was his girlfriend, Grace. They shared the flat with Sarah and her boyfriend, Aaron."I think he's sick.""What kind of sickness makes someone sound like that? Sam! Are you sick?""Ummm... Yes! Yes that's it. I'll be in her for a while. Don't worry, I'll be fine.""SAM GREGORY!"Sam's heart sank. That last voice was of his manager at work. "What the hell is he doing here?" Sam thought.His three flatmates outside seemed to focus on the newcomer."You seriously came here? That's obnoxious," Aaron said."WHERE IS HE!? I TOLD him to be hear EARLY today. I had to present to the CEO MYSELF!""But have I not been on time every day before this? An Is always do good work?" Sam stopped when he heard his own voice changing further."Nol. In fact you've been late pretty consistently."Sam flinched. He shouldn't have brought that up. In truth he wasn't the worst, but given the circumstances he didn't think he had much ground to argue the point."...seriously. Aren't there rules against this? I mean, you can't just barge in here. The hell?" Aaron said again."I don't care! I want to speak to him NOW! SAM!"Sam, desperate, tried to speak up. "WES! WES SIWR!" He flinched at his own voice. It was getting worse."He's sick" Sarah said. "Can't you tell that from his voice?""I don't care. No call, no doctors note, nothing. SAM, GET OUT HERE NOW!""WES SIWR! One second!" Sam crawled again to the door and reached for the handle. He had locked it the night before, and struggled to undo it.Finally he managed to undo the latch and the door swung open. There, standing with shocked expressions, were all three of his roomates and his boss.Sam tried to sink into the carpet. He hoped the bulge of his diapers weren't too noticeable, but figured it was a lost cause."WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?" his manager said."Well clearly he's sick!" Grace said pleadingly. "Yes he clearly is SICK. What is wrong with him?" the manager replied."No not that kind of sick," she almost whined. "Like, disease sick. He doesn't normally do this!""What kind of illness makes clothes appear? That doesn't make sense!""That's actually a good point," Aaron said."YOU'RE NOT HELPING!""Never said I was trying to help. Just stating the obvious."His manager was clearly annoyed. Sam's work was far from perfect as it was. Sam wasn't terrible, but at the moment he could only think of his worse moments. "#%@ it, I don't have time for this. Sam, you're fired. I don't care what weird things your into, but if you can't make it to work, then its a problem. Goodbye.""What!? No please!" Grace pleaded."That does seem unfair" Sarah said.He ignored both as he left.The three turned to Sam."Soooo... what now?" Aaron asked."Yes what happened Sam? How do you feel?" Sarah added."I AWWA OOOO," Sam tried, then stopped. As he had feared, his speech had been brought to next then nothing.Sarah nodded. "I...see.""Well, I'm not changing his diapers," Aaron said."Aaron shut up. Thats not important right now," Grace replied."You're just saying that because you know it will be you. And boy, with a baby that size will they ever stink!" Sam blushed."Ok, look. We have to find out whats going on," Sarah said, rubbing her head as if thinking. "Grace, you're his girlfriend. Is this... a... thing?... of his?" the question was on 'thing," she added the rest after."NO! I mean, I wish but..." she stopped blushing."WOAH so the cats out of the bag!" Aaron said."I didn't do it! Clearly its some kind of illness.""Yes I think that must be it. He got sick and it turned him into an adult baby," Sarah said."That makes fuckall sense," Aaron said. "How can an illness just suddenly make someone act like a baby? And how did it summon diapers into existence?"Sam had to agree with Aaron. This was the dumbest s%*$ he had ever encountered. What sort of reality was this?"It happens.""WHEN does it happen? HOW does it happen!?""I don't know but its clearly happened", Sarah said. "Its like one of those kink stories.""WHAT kink stories," Aaron asked. There was an awkward moment as they all blushed and avoided eye contact."Ok, look," Sarah continued. "We all know we all know that we all know what we all know. I mean, you both know what I'm talking about. This sort of thing happens, and somehow everyone involved is kind of into it.""WHAT?!" Aaron shouted.Sam stared in shock. "INTO IT!?" None of this made sense too him. "Since when the hell does this sort off thing happen in real life? This is..." he couldn't think of a word "like something from some horror writer, with a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality, where senseless things happen in real life, and there is no way out... there has to be a word for that.""This is all just bizzare! Its like, Kafkaesque or something!" Aaron said."Well I don't think any normal person would be stuck up enough to say that," Sarah glowered. "I think we should stop questioning this and just go with it," Grace said. "Fortunately, I happen to have spare diapers for some reason." She opened a closet door, revealing piles of pampers as she promised.'I think its incredibly suspicious that you say that, and why the HE!! do you have those?" Aaron said, and Sam completely agreed. Hopefully, Aaron would find a way to get him out of it.Both women turned and glared at Aaron. Sarah glanced at the piles of diapers, then at him."Comment revoked," Aaron said, looking down."Good, then we are all agreed. This is perfectly natural and normal, just like those stories we all read. It makes perfect sense.""Agreed," they said in unison, and Sam's heart sank.
  8. Rosie stood nervously in front of a strange door in a strange hallway. There was nothing outwardly strange about them. It could have been any other apartment door in any other hallway, but the reason she was here was certainly strange. She had taken it up on a whim. A single offer, coming to her from someone she had spoken too online but had never met in person. After years visiting a... strange... community online, speaking to people without seeing them, even making art for it, she had been offered a chance to actually try living it. The person's name was Samantha, and they certainly had a lot of similar interests, but it was still frightening. She didn't really know this person, did she? How well can you know someone you've never seen before? Do online meetings and relationships count the same as in person? On top of that, she was here to play the sub. It was a role she she was always interested it but didn't even discuss as much. Almost every discussion she had and every drawing she made had her playing dom. She knew this would be difficult, having to let someone take control of her for a change. Not only that, but the plan was meant to be a surprise. She had no idea what was in store for her, it was all Samantha's decision. That was all part of it, and they had similar interests, but it was still frightening. She closed her eye and psyched herself. She could do this. Just turn off the dominant side, and let someone else take control. At least if it turned bad she could always ask for it to start. Holding her breath, she knocked. The door was almost immediately answered by a tall, athletically built blond haired woman. Rosie, herself almost 6 feet tall, wasn't used to having to look up at another woman. Rosie stared at the woman's arms, hoping whatever the plan was didn't involve a lot of spanking. This was definitely a woman who could make that hurt, and definitely one who would have no problem dominating over someone. "Rosie?" the woman asked, and Rosie nodded. The woman dragged her in by the arm, closed the door and locked it. She looked Rosie over, examining her wavy brown hair and shorter, broad hipped build. She smiled and tapped her nose. "Hehe your just as cute as I expected," she smacked Rosie on the butt, making her yelp. "Perfect for what I have planned." Rosie blushed over the treatment. It was... sudden, she thought. She tried to back up a bit, then mentally checked herself. She was here to play sub, she told herself. This was the sort of treatment she could expect. "Ummm... thanks. Are you Samantha?" "Yes, that's right dear. Good girl!" Samantha patted her head. "Uhhh... thanks. So what are we going to do? Are we going to just start, or talk a bit first?" Rosie was trying still play the role of submissive while making sure the boundaries were kept. "Oh, don't worry, you'll see soon enough." Samantha began dragging her further into the apartment. Rosie's instinct was to pull away, but she let herself be lead. They passed a well stocked kitchen, a cozy living room with several couches and a television, and went down a white walled hallway into a bedroom. The bedroom was large and spacious, with a queen sized bed, bookshelves, and paintings on all walls. Once they were there, Samantha turned Rosie to face her and examined her again. She looked at Rosie's black jeans and button up shirt. "Hmmm... we will have to do something about those clothes. Far to mature, and the want-to-be rebellious look isn't good for you." Rosie gaped at her and couldn't respond. Instead, she was pushed onto the bed. "Now, wait here a moment little one. I need to get some things ready." "Alright," Rosie said. Samantha's tone gave no room for argument, and the anticipation of what could come, along with her clear control was exciting, she was sat nervously, a pit forming in her stomach. What did Samantha have planned? Samantha left and closed the door. After a moment she haired footsteps in the hallway. Wait, she thought, how many are there? Suddenly her nervousness turned to pure anxiety, even fear. How many people where there? She didn't know there was more then one, she hadn't agreed to that. She opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted as the door burst open, and Samantha stood in followed by two other girls, each holding articles of clothing. Rosie didn't have time to fully process what was happening before they had grabbed her. "Hey... what are.... no!" She said as her shirt was forcibly removed. She had agreed to be submissive, but this sudden invasion of her privacy was still shocking. She struggled, but was held tight, and felt her arms being pulled into a pair of sleeves. She barely had a chance to comprehend what was happening before she realized she was being tied into a strait jacket. Her arms were pulled behind her and secured. "Hey, I said.. MPHH...!" she was silenced as something was shoved into her mouth. She gagged at the bitter taste, and realized it was a bar of soap. Samantha was moving it back and forth as the other girls strapped her arms behind her back. Her mouth filled with creamy white foam as she shoved the bar into her mouth again and again. "There, that will wash out any more naughty words," Samantha said. She then took the bar out. Rosie gasped, and the foam dribbled down her face. She tried to speak, but found her mouth was filled again. This time it was a pacifier that was tied into place behind her head. It filled her mouth completely to her throat, forcing her to swallow the rest of the soap, and turning her protests into incomprehensible mumbles. "What was that?" Samantha said. "Something you don't like? Well just tell me, and I'll be sure to stop," she laughed, and Rosie glared. Now that she was tied and silenced, the Samantha's two friends lifted Rosie's feet into the air, forcing her to her back on the couch. Rosie tried to kick and pull herself away. "MPHHH!" she shouted at a sudden, sharp pain on her backside. She looked to see Samantha standing over her with a long black paddle. She wondered what she had gotten herself into. Playing sub had seemed so exciting in theory. Even now, part of her was eager to keep going. But this much pain and control was so foreign and coming on so quickly. She was overwhelmed with emotions, and struggled not even knowing if she wanted to leave or stay. She was spanked again. "Now now, that's enough of that," Samantha said. It was pointless anyway, Rosie found the two girl's grasp was unbreakable, and Samantha simply moved on. The next thing Samantha grabbed was the one thing Rosie had expected from the start, but now stared at nervously. It was what she wanted for months, but by far the most embarrassing part yet. Seeing the frightened, humiliated but excited look in Rosie's eyes, Samantha smiled. "Yes, I'm sure this is what my baby wants, isn't it? She's just been lying to us, to everyone, with her naughty big girl clothes, posing as an adult, posing as a professional, pretending to be mature... we all know it is a lie, don't we?" Rosie stared, and Samantha smiled and lifted the object into the air. It was a large, thick diaper. It was white but with a pink, flowery panel on the front, with letters proclaiming the wearer "Princess," and a design that let everyone know that the wearer wasn't a real adult, but simply an overgrown, adult baby. It didn't look like an adult diaper, but a baby's Pampers made in a larger size. More then that, it was a sign that her last shred of adulthood was gone, that even the most basic levels of control and maturity were forcibly stripped from her. It meant she couldn't even be trusted to use the toilet, and if that was true, what could she be trusted with? Rosie cringed, helpless as Samantha powdered her and placed the thick pamper underneath her. She felt the thick padding go up between her legs and close on her, then get tapped securely on. Samantha then pulled the strap of the strait jacked underneath the diaper and attached it on either side, leaving her locked inside her humiliating, childish garment. The other two girls put pink baby booties on her feet, then stood her up. She was made to face herself in a mirror, and sulked. Even the straight jacket seemed to have been made on the similar theme, with a pink and white design consisting of flowers, babyish drawings and "Princess" written on her chest, along with a skirt of fabric around her waist that made it look like a tutu while leaving her diaper fully exposed. She thought of her own image of herself- serene, powerful, in control- and tried to compare it to the baby she saw staring at her in the mirror. This is what she wanted, she reminded herself, though part of her wondered why. She closed her eyes and told herself to just listen to what Samantha wanted, as she had agreed to. Samantha came up to her smiling, and seemed to smile even broader when she saw the defeated look on Rosie's face. She attached a collar to her neck, then a leash, and brandished the paddle in her other hand. "Now, come along my little princess, and be a good girl. Its time to meet some more friends." Friends?! Rosie thought. There were MORE people!? She tried to pull away, but was forced forward by the leash, and the pacifier turned any argument into mumbles. "Whats that? Remember, if you don't like something, just tell me!" Samantha said, then laughed. Rosie simply followed. The abnormal bulk of her diaper felt odd between her legs, and made her waddle. Rosie had tried the thickest adult diapers she could find, but this was still a surprise. The only thing she could think of was Snuggies waddles made with a custom design, but that still didn't seem to cut it. Perhaps Waddlers with a thickening pad, she thought. Whatever it was, it was clearly designed to be intrusive, and it worked. The strap of the straight jacket added to the feeling, making it feel thicker and stiffer and pressing it against her. The diaper crinkled loudly, and was hot and heavy, but at the same time soft and, in a way, comfortable. Rosie was pulled into the living room, which was now full of people. They all cheered and laughed at once as she entered, blushing. Some were people she had seen before, acquaintances from work or people she had run into, but most were strangers. There even seemed to be other fetishists there- a woman in a black leather full body suit held on a leash by a man in a suit, a blond haired boy who sat whimpering on a woman's lap while wearing a diaper and dress and suckling a pacifier, a girl in a bunny outfit with ears, and others. The attention, however, was all directed at Rosie. "Awwww she's so cute!" a stranger proclaimed. "Yes, I agree. She was an excellent choice." "Just look at her blush! She is sooo embarrassed haha. I wonder if she's wet already?" "Oooo imagine her look during her first diaper change." Samantha quieted them with a have of her hands. "Now now, we will get to that. First, we need to prepare our baby. Now, Rosie, you may be wondering what this is." Rosie nodded, humiliated and terrified. "Most of them are my friends. We've been looking for someone just like you to be our new baby girl. We already have a baby boy and others, so we needed you for a new playmate. We meet from time to time for... fun." She smiled at the word, leaving it open to whatever Rosie could think of. "The others are people you knew who were open to the idea. We like to have a few people our subs recognize on the first night. It adds to the... fun... and ensures people will know about your new lifestyle." She continued. "Tonight, Rosie, is all about you. This is your initiation, then you'll be part of our group. Remember, if you don't like it, just say so," she laughed. With that, Samantha grabbed the leash right by her collar and gently pulled her down. Rosie shook her head violently, making as much noise as the pacifier would allow. This was too far, she thought. She'd agreed to play sub, and would have, but did not agree to have other people. She wanted out. Samantha, however, ignored her pleas. She made Rosie crawl, much to the delight of the audience, and sat her on a plank in front of the wall facing outward. "This here is something that is going to help you be a good baby. In a little while, all your naughty arguing will end," she said. She threaded leash through a hoop on the blank Rosie was sitting on. Next, she felt it pulled down underneath her and between her legs, then upwards. It was attached to the wall above her, forcing her into a kneeling, head down position from which she couldn't move. Rosie glanced around, struggling even to keep her head up, and tried to figure out what was going on. The people were smiling at her, though some of the obvious subs stared at her nervously and with pity. Soon Samantha was in front of her, holding a pair of headphones. "Now now little one, don't worry at all," she said soothingly. "Mommy will take care of everything. Just listen to this, and everything will soon be better." With that, she placed the headphones on Rosie's head, and hit a button. ... Finger's snapped. Mommy was standing in front of her. Wait... Mommy? she thought. It was Samantha. She was taking off the strait jacket. Wait... she was stripping her naked in front of all these people!? Rosie was horrified. However, when she went to stop it, nothing happened. Her arms didn't move. She wanted to, but she didn't. Soon she was naked except for her bootie and the diaper, and she didn't mind. At the same time, the pacifier was unhooked, but Rosie kept suckling. "Come here little one. Crawl!" Rosie crawled toward her mommy. Why was she crawling? She could walk... but somehow she didn't want to. Crawling was for babies, and she was a baby. Of course she wanted to crawl. She also realized that now that the straight jacket was gone, she could easily take the diaper off, spit the pacifier out, and say no, but she didn't want to. She heard the laughter around her, directed at her. Strangers, people she knew, dozens of them, laughing. Why was she humiliating herself? But while part of her protested, screamed at her to stop, she couldn't make herself. She pouted, almost in tears from the humiliation, but kept crawling. "Good baby," her mommy said. The words filled her with warmth, making her happier then she had been for a long time. She took Rosie's hands. "Up up up!" Rosie stood up instinctively. "Do you want to speak?" Rosie tried to say something, but the pacifier stopped her. She could spit it out, she realized, she wasn't a baby. But at the same time, she didn't want to. Samantha smiled as if she had won an important bet. "Good baby," she said. She grabbed the pacifier and took it out. "Now, what are you?" "I... I a baby giwl," Rosie said, as surprised at her own childish, lisping voice as she was at the answer. Why would she say that? She wanted to, she realized. She didn't want to be an adult. She blushed at the chorus of laughter. "Good baby. Do you want to be an adult." "Nuuu..." more laughter. People were moving around her, pulling a dress over her head. Like the straight jacket, it was pink, childish and frilly, designed as a cross between a princess and a Lolita dress, with hearts and flowers decorating it. The skirt was short, and like before, did nothing to conceal her diaper. This time, however, she didn't mind. It was natural, she thought, how else would they check it? Wait... CHECK IT!? she thought. FOR WHAT!? But of course they would... her mind went back and forth, and she did nothing. Rosie pulled her by the hand into a bathroom. The crowed followed them, giggling. Rosie looked around at the sink, bathtub, towels and.... something. A strange white thing, shaped like a seat. "Do you know what that is for?" "No," Rosie said, getting the loudest laughter yet. But of course she did! It was a... she didn't want to even think the word. It was frightening to her, dangerous. "Do you know how to use the potty?" "Whas dat?" Rosie asked. Again, she knew she knew, but she didn't want to, and the thought was frightening. "Good baby." The warmth and happiness again. "Now, I am going to feed you your supper. Its a bottle of baby mush and milk, and it will help you fill your pampers like a little baby. Ok?" Rosie nodded. Something about that was wrong... was it about filling her pampers? But that was what they were for, wasn't it? Part of her screamed no, but she couldn't think of why. She was pulled back into the living room and sat on her mommy's lap. She put the tip of a bottle in Rosie's mouth, and she suckled easily. "Good baby. Now remember, this will make you use your pampers. There is no way the old Rosie would want that, especially in front of all these people. So, if you don't want that, stop drinking." Rosie looked at her confused and kept drinking, and they all laughed. "Yes, old Rosie was confused, because she thought she was a big girl. You're not a big girl, are you?" Rosie shook her head, though she was in near tears from it. Of course she was! She was an adult, she thought, not a baby, and this was wrong. But she kept doing it. After feeding her the bottle, Samantha pulled Rosie closer. "Now," she said. "Is baby still hungry?" Rosie shook her head. "Well, we have more bottle, and people who want to feed you. Also, the more you're feed, the sooner you are going to fill your diapers. So, we are going to pass you around, and you will keep drinking until you we are done, ok? You'll do what mommy says? You don't want to be a bad baby?" She put emphasis on the last phrase. As soon as she heard it, Rosie was filled with the deepest guilt and anxiety she had ever felt. It came up suddenly, and left her shaking. There was something wrong, and she didn't blame her mommy, but blamed herself. She hugged her mommy. At that moment she'd do anything to avoid the feeling and make her mommy happy. "Good baby," Mommy said, and the feeling was gone. "Now, time for the rest of your num nums." She pulled Rosie to the next person, a woman, and sat her down on her lap. The woman placed a bottle in her mouth, and she suckled instinctivly. she was passed around from person to person. Each one sat her on their laps, bouncing her up and down and feeding her more and more bottles. Rosie was stuffed, but she kept drinking. Her stomach began to ache, then cramp. The bouncing only made it worse, and her stomach was soon grumbling. After a while she was being fed and bounced by a man in a suit when she heard a loud brrraapppttt noise. She looked down at her diaper. There was laughter all around her. "Oh my god, the babies gassy!" someone shouted, and they laughed again. "Better check her diapers, just to make sure that's all there is," the man in the suit said. He bent her over and lifted her skirt, pulled the back of her diaper. "No, all clean." Rosie didn't know what was worse, the fact that a stranger was seeing inside her undergarments, that he was doing it to check if she had messed those same undergarments, or that the sound came again and again. She found she was powerless to stop any of it. "Yes, but now comes the best part," Samantha said. She took Rosie by the hands then stood her up. She looked her dead in the eyes, and Rosie was trapped by her gaze. "Rosie," she said, snapping her fingers. "You're a big girl now." Rosie looked around in panic. What had she done!? What was she wearing?! She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to run. "Please... please stop," Rosie pleased. "You can go if you want Rosie. Its all up to you." She had been hypnotized, she realized. She knew hypnotism was something you had to want to work, and if she rejected it, it wouldn't have worked. But... did she want to reject it? It was all she had wanted, after all. It was what she had come for. This was what she dreamed about and talked about online, but was too afraid to do. It was humiliating, mortifying, and terrifying, but even when she wasn't hypnotized she couldn't make herself run. Maybe she had accepted it all. Or was this all some trick? Either way, she remained. "That is what I thought. Good baby." Even when no longer thinking like a baby, the words filled her with a sudden happiness. Samantha noticed. "Like that? Thought so. Oh, and watch this. BAD BABY!" She scolded. Instantly Rosie shrinked back at the words. She whimpered, almost sobbing, knelt and hugged Samantha's knees, inwardly pleading for her approval. How could she feel this, even as an 'adult?" Since when did she want someone else's approval? But this was submission, Rosie realized. It was an extreme version of it, and not in the way she had thought, but it was submission. She had wanted it, and she got it. "It's ok little Rosie, you're a good baby," the feeling was gone, and Rosie sighed. "Now, Rosie," Samantha said. Rosie found she was still trapped by her voice and gaze. "Do you want to mess yourself?" "What?" "You heard me. Do you want to fill your diapers in front of all these people?" "NO! Oh god please no! Don't make me!" Rosie felt her stomach grumbling from being force fed dozens of bottles. She was cramping hard, and needed release. "Please let me use the toilet... please... I'll do anything. ANd please don't make me do it in front of these people." Samantha laughed. "Silly baby. You think you can argue, don't you? But you know what? You are going to fill your diapers. You are going to do it happily and in front of allllll these people as they laugh and take pictures. You are going to lift your skirt and show off when you do it. You are going to grunt and do it loudly, parade around in your stinky pampers, then get changed as they watch." "NO! Please! Anyhting but that. At least give me privacy... I'll do it, but just with you, ok?" She bargained. "Yes you will, and in front of everyone. And you know why?" Rosie shook her head. Samantha held up her hands. "Because I'm going to snap these fingers and you will be powerless to stop it. You will helplessly fill your pampers and will do whatever your mommy says. Then I will turn you back into an adult to feel the humiliation, and back and forth whenever I want, wherever I want, forever. Got it?" "No pl..." Samantha snapped her fingers. "Rosie... You're a baby now." Rosie smiled at her mommy and giggled. A sound came from her diaper, and she laughed. "Now, is the little baby gonna fill her diapers?" "I dunno mommy," Rosie said incredulously. How could she decide something that important? "Yes you are, then you are going to become a big girl again so you can blush while we laugh." Rosie was puzzled by the strange sentence. A big girl? What did that mean? She was a baby. "Now, fill your diaper for mommy." Rosie grunted. There was a noise like before, but louder. She felt a warm pile of mush come into her diapers and coat her. All around her were gasps of laughter and mocking ewws. She crinkled her face. "Is icky mommy!" she said. What had she done? Why was she still talking like that? She tried to stop herself, but couldn't. "I bet it is baby." "An is tinky!" Mommy laughed and plugged her nose. "Yes, very stinky. Now, undo your onesie and show everyone." Rosie instinctively obeyed. There was more laughter and comments she could barely make out over the collective noise. "Good baby. Now shake it around!" Rosie stuck her bottom out further and wiggled it, feeling the mesh slosh over her, and hearing more ewws and gasps for breath. A window was opened, a fact which barely registered in her mind. "Dance for me baby." Rosie, still wanting to make her mommy happy, did her best to imitate a ballet routine. She had never done one before, and the thickness of the diaper made every movement awkward and difficult, but she twirled around and kicked her legs as much as she could. This seemed to be enough, as the audience laughed and clapped their approval. "Now, come here." Rosie followed helplessly as her mommy, who once again pulled her onto her lap and bounced her. This time, however, the messy diaper made it much worse. The feeling was horrible, it itche horribly, and the smell and laughter was worse. When Mommy was done, she passed Rosie to the next person, who continued to bounce her. Like before, Rosie was passed from lap to lap and bounced like a baby, squirming, squinting, and crinkling her nose the entire time. She endured the laughter, the humiliating pats and comments, and outwardly acted as if she loved it. Finally Samantha picked her up again and snapped her fingers. "Rosie, you're a big girl now. Wasn't that fun?" Rosie felt tears in her eyes. "No, please, just... just change me, please. I want out of this diaper." She was broken, she realized. All the pride and strength she had coming into this was gone. She wasn't even certain at first if she would submit, but there she was, standing, spanked, in a onesie and messy pampers, and willing to do anything for a change. "Oh, I will. How would you like to be changed here in front of everyone?" Rosie almost outright cried. "No..." she whispered. "Here's whats going to happen. I'm going to bring back baby Rosie, and she is going to happily lay down on a changing mat in the hallway as we tie her down. Then I'm going to bring big girl Rosie back, and she will very un-happily get her diaper changed in front of everyone. Got it?" Rosie couldn't even speak as the fingers were once again snapped, and baby her was lead into the hallway. Her onesie was lifted up, and she lay down, smiling, laughing, willing. Mommy held up a pair of cuffs. "Put your hands in here baby girl!" Rosie obeyed. "Good baby! Now put your feet in here! That way we can bring back big girl Rosie and she won't be able to stop us from changing her riiiiii-ight here, no matter how much she wants to." The words rolled around in her mind. She knew what was going to happen. This was all a set up to humiliate her and make her do something she wouldn't otherwise. As soon as Mommy snapped her fingers, she knew she wouldn't like this anymore. However, at the time, all she wanted was to please her mommy, so she obeyed. Soon she was then tied with her arms stretched out on the floor and her feet in the air. She giggled at the funny position. SNAP. "Rosie, you're a big girl now." Rosie struggled, sobbed, and squirmed. A pacifier was pushed into her mouth and she suckled. She could call for help, she realized. This was an apartment building, someone would come. But then... what would they see? A bunch of fetishists, with her in a diaper she clearly messed herself? She cringed at the thought. Then, if the called the police, there may be an investigation, reporters... she pictured herself on the news, having an image of herself in a messy diaper paired with a full explanation of what she had come from being shown all over town. She everyone from family to total strangers knowing her as the diaper girl who got tricked.... she couldn't do it. Also... did she really want to? The hypnosis couldn't make her do anything she didn't want, just bring out things she didn't admit she wanted. This was, in a way, her dream, if rougher and more rushed then she expected. She suckled her pacifier for comfort, willingly this time, closed her eyes, and tried to think of something other then the laughter. She felt her diaper get opened. Wipes from hands all around her cleaned up the mess. The baby wipes were cool, and made her shudder. Soon she was powdered again, the smell of talcum replacing the smell of her used padding. Another diaper was put between her leg and tapped on, this time followed by thick plastic pants. She was untied, and stood up. "Now," Samantha said, raising her fingers. "Do I need to do this again, or will you be good?" Rosie pouted. "I'll be good." "Good. Turn around, apologize for your stinky pampers, and thank them for changing you." Rosie blushed and pleaded with her eyes, but obeyed. "Hello everyone. Ummm... I'm sorry for being so stinky... Thank you for changing my diapers." The all laughed and clapped. "Good baby. It's been a long day for you, so its time for bed." Rosie nodded, accepting that the early bedtime was now part of her life. "Lets get you in your pjs." Rosie didn't resist as she was stripped and put into a footed Disney Princess sleeper and had another pacifier put in her mouth. She didn't want to risk resisting, and having strangers dress her as a baby was far from the worse thing that had happened. She looked down at the footed pjs. She always had liked Disney. Samantha saw her looking at it. She cupped Rosie's face soothingly. "Yes, I thought you'd like that. This isn't all going to be bad sweetheart. It is, after all, what you wanted. If, in the morning, you really want to go and not come back, you can. But I don't think you will, do you?" Rosie just stared at her. Samantha smiled. "Good baby. Now, go kiss everyone goodnight." Rosie looked at her, but saw no signs of joking. Reluctantly, and much to the amusement of all around, she went to the first man she saw. She kissed his cheek. "Goodnight," she said. He laughed and patted her diaper. She went to the next person, repeated the routine until she had done a complete loop of the room, getting her padded bum patted and rubbed the entire time. When Rosie was done, Samantha took her hand and lead her down the hallway. Samantha then led her into a separate room. It was dark inside, but Rosie could make out piles of toys, a changing table, and a large, wooden crib. There was a smiling cloud and a rainbow painted on the wall, and a mobile hanging from the roof. It was a nursery, Rosie knew. Samantha lead her toward the crib. Rosie followed without the hypnosis, without the leash, without a threat of spanking. All willingness to argue was gone. She crawled into the crib. Samantha closed the top of it, turning it into a cage. Rosie pushed at it. "Hey! If you break that, I break you!" Rosie stopped. "You may recognize this as something like your own scenarios, back when you thought you were a dom. Someone in the crowed tipped me off about it, and I couldn't help but play it. We can't have little ones crawling around all night, can we?" "But what if I have to... oh..." Rosie looked down at her diaper, blushing at having answered her own question so obviously. "But I wouldn't have you be lonely..." She through a teddy bear inside. Rosie hugged it, feeling something hard inside. A recorder, she realized. "Now, be a good baby girl! Ill be listening." Rosie lay down. She would be a good girl for her mommy, she knew, for as long as her mommy wanted. She slowly fell asleep.
  9. “Well, work is work” Johann thought as he walked down the line of modules. He was walking along a steel hallway, carrying a briefcase, and doing what amounted to a check in the box inspection job. At least he was getting paid. As a chief engineer aboard a Star Force Explorer vessel, he had become used to a much more exciting lifestyle. Travelling the stars, vising new planets, fighting pitched battles against pirates and invaders… the kind of things he had signed up for. However, all away postings have to end at some point, and he rotated back to more conventional duties until it was his turn to leave again. So now here he was, monitoring Care Modules. He walked along the steel floored hallway and approached a random one on his right and set his briefcase down. There was a desk with a variety of gleaming buttons, and he hit the central one. A large screen door, invisible until now, appeared in front of him and slid upward. He hit the reinforced plastic behind it, ensuring it was secure, then hit a switch. A light came on, revealing a large and seemingly empty room behind. “Alight, let’s see if this all works” he said to himself. The rooms were kept empty not in use in order to prolong their lifespan. However, that could change in a second. He hit a button and began switching through a list. With it, the room changed. The walls turned from a dull grey to black, then blue, then pink, then red, and through a rainbow of colors, textures, and designs with paintings and murals appearing at will. He turned to a different list, and carpeting appeared on the floor, only to be replaced with tiles, rugs, wood, and dozens of other materials. He turned another, and furniture appeared, making an ordinary bedroom, a hospital, a prison cell, a nursery, a children’s bedroom, and more all along set designs. The idea of the machine is that it could be used as support for almost anyone, for almost any need, and in almost any situation. It could be a room to satisfy almost any need or desire aboard a ship or on the planet, then switch to something different when the next occupant came in. Johann’s job was to ensure it was all working properly before a tour came through the next day, which would include inspectors to give it final approval. As it was, several of them were already occupied, so his work was merely formality. “Alright, that is all in order. Now let’s see what else you got,” he said. He hit a button, and steel arms came out of the walls, protruding from every corner. He turned on a microphone and spoke into it. “Computer, recognize my voice.” There was a series of beeps followed by “RECOGNIZE, JOHANN,” n a mechanical voice. An image of himself in his flight suit came up, looking slender, with long brown hair. “Damn I look good,” he said, secretly wishing he could be back in that flight suit. “COMMENCING “LOOKING GOOD” PATTERN,” the voice said. Smooth jazz music came on, along with robotic dancing. Hands came out of the desk full of make up. “NO NO CANCEL CANCEL!” he said, and the machine stopped. Being careful not to mutter to himself, he bent over and opened his briefcase. A small robot, made of steel bars and wires, jumped out. It straightened up and quickly grew to a full adult’s height. It then began to flesh out, with rubber balloons inflating in the place of skin. A crude imitation of a man, but good enough for his work. He hit a button on the desk, and a door appeared in the wall. He unlocked it, then spoke to the robot. “Get in,” he said, and the robot obeyed. He shut the door behind it, and locked it. “Computer, prison setting,” he said. A series of beeps followed, then “PRISON SETTING ACKNOWLEDGED.” The room changed to a deep blue with simple furniture. He held down a button which deactivated the arms. “Robot, try to get out,” he said. The robot banged on the glass and on the door with twice the strength a human could muster. None of them budged. Johann released the buttons controlling the arms. In an instant they sprang to life and wrapped themselves around the robot, suspending him helplessly in the air. “Excellent. Computer, hospital setting.” “HOSPITAL SETTING ACKNOWLEDGED.” The room changed to a white hospital room, and the arms lay the robot on a bed while a light scanned him for medical problems. “Alright, robot, trip and fall, demonstrate “broken arm.” The robot didn’t move. He spoke louder. “Robot, trip and fall, demonstrate ‘broken arm.” The robot remained lying in the bed as arms took care of and shook its head at Johann. It put its arms behind its head and let out an automated sigh. “Damn lazy robot,” Johann said. He walked into the room. “Robot, leave this room!” The robot stuck its ‘tong’ out at him. The robot was a highly developed, extremely expensive tool, and a jackass. If this was a malfunction, it would come down on Johann’s head. “INSTRUCTIONS NOT UNDERSTOOD,” the computer said. “No, I want this robot out of the room!” Johann said. “UNDERSTOOD, REMOVING ROBOT.” A whole appeared in the roof, and the arms tossed the robot half a mile into the sky. “Oh s&$%....” Johann said, watching his career fly away with an overpriced jackass of a robot. “INSTRUCTIONS UNDERSTOOD,” the room said. A toilet appeared, and the arms picked up Johann and pulled him toward it. “NO NO! I’m not going to use the toilet.” “INSTRUCTIONS UNDERSTOOD. ALTERNATIVE MEANS ENGAGED.” A tube came out of the wall “NOOO not that!” Johann said. He didn’t even want to know what the tube was for. “Just put me down.” “UNDERSTOOD,” the arms dropped Johann with a hard ‘thump’ onto the ground. He sat down to think. “God damn this thing destroyed the robot… it was like my boss’s baby… he said take care of it… they are going to HATE me, probably punish me, give me the 10th degree… probably won’t leave earth again…” “UNDER NOT UNDER NO UNDER NOT STOOD UNDER NOT STOOD NOT NOT STOOD UNDER” the voice said. Johann jumped up, and realized he was still muttering to himself. The arms were spinning around, struggling to find some meaning in his words. Johann began to panic. This was worst case scenario, he had caused a malfunction. “NO! STOP LISTENING TO ME!” he shouted. “UNDERSTOOD. JOHANN NO LONGER ACCEPTED VOICE CONTROL.” “What?” he said, color draining from his face. The computer didn’t say a thing. “REVERTING TO MOST LIKELY SETTING.” The machine made a long string of beeps and static noise, then began repeating his last words. “ALTERNATIVE TOILETRY MEANS… WON”T GET OUT… TAKE CARE OF IT… PUNISH… BOSS’S BABY… DOORS LOCKED, NURSERY MODE ACTIVATED.” “WHAT!” Johann shouted as arms seized him. The walls around him changed to a baby blue with colorful cartoon character’s dancing around it. "This... can't... be... happening..." he said, while reality confirmed that it could, in fact, be happening. He made a scramble for the door, and slammed into the now solid wall that replaced it. Arms grabbed him from all sides and lifted him strait into the air. "No NO NO! I"M NOT A BABY!" he said, as he was carried toward a changing table. "YOU ARE A BABY, AND WILL BE TREATED AS SUCH. ARE YOU THROWING A TANTRUM?" the machine said. "I"m NOT throwing a tantrum! I'm an adult put me... MPH..." he was cut off as a large pacifier was shoved into his mouth. He spat it out, only to find it instantly replaced and attached behind his head with ribbons. "What sort of nursery is this?" he thought. "NAUGHTY BABY. GOOD BABIES DON"T THROWN TANTRUMS. SUCKLE THAT AND BE A GOOD BOY OR YOU'LL GET A SPANKING. ANY MORE LIES ABOUT BEING AN ADULT WILL RESULT IN MOUTH SOAPINGS" Ridiculous. The machine couldn't spank a baby... could it? That be abuse...He watched the thick steel arms circle around. He didn't want to test it. The arms settled him down on the table. The stripped him naked, taking his clothes back through the walls. He groaned as he saw their replacements. A thick white diaper, sized for himself and cartoonishly decorated came out. A baby blue teddy bear shirt with pink ruffles at the sleeves and "Baby Boy" written on the chest followed, along with finger less mittens. The arms were efficient, he had to give them that. He was very quickly powdered, diapered, and dressed to the machine's specifications. He sat up, getting used to the new sensations. The thickness of the diaper forced his legs apart, and any movement was accompanied by the loud crinkling of plastic. However, the sweet smell of the powder, along with the softness of the padding and the t-shirt made it comfortable. The machine lifted him up and set him down on the ground amid a pile of toys. "NOW BE A GOOD BABY AND PLAY UNTIL SUPPER TIME." Not likely, he thought. The second the hands moved away he stood up and reached for the tapes of his diaper. He grabbed at them on impulse, not thinking through. This quickly proved for a mistake for two reasons. First, he found that his now mittened hands were near useless when it came to opening tapes. HE had a moment to contemplate this before the second reason came crashing across his padded backside. "MPH!" he yelped against the pacifier as he was hoisted into the air. Dread filled him, and he realized the machine might just make good on its promise. A scan went over him. "ASSESSING PAIN TOLERANCE" it said. Pain tolerance? he thought. It couldn't... no... Johann watched in horror as one of the hands raised itself behind him. He closed his eyes. THWACK! he felt and heard, as the hand slammed down on him. "BAD BABY! BAD BABY!" The machine said, over and over as it spanked him. This can't be happening! he thought. They wouldn't spank an actual baby! What is this? The machine continued, putting Johann into more and more agony. He felt his bottom get blistered, and slowly broke down from yelping into loud sobs. Finally the spanking ended. The machine turned him back over and craddled him comfortably, rocking him back and forth. A finger waggled in front of him. "THERE THERE. GOOD BABIES KEEP THEIR DIAPERS ON. HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON?" Johann nodded. "GOOD. IT IS TIME FOR FEEDING. PREPARING MEAL WITH LESSON 24B: DIAPER NECESSITY." Johann's eyes went wide as he was sat down with a crinkle and a thud at a high chair. He barely even noticed his aching bottom. Lesson? Diaper necessity? What fresh hell could that be? The machine removed his pacifier, and he tried to ask the question but was silenced as a spoon full of sugary-sweet mush was shoved into his mouth. "OPEN FOR THE AIRPLANE!" One of the machine's hands held his head as the others spooned more and more into him fast enough to almost make him gag. "Wait! MPH..Let me MDSGE.... SPEAK! MPHHHHH." Every time he swallowed one spoonful, another one was instantly behind it, giving him no pause to finish speaking. He tried to spit some out, but the machine simply scooped it up and kept going. He was forced to continuously swallow what he imagined was mashed fruits and vegetables with oatmeal- as strange, gooey substance clearly intended for babies. But no one would feet a baby like this? They wouldn't treat one this roughly, would they? Soon the bowl was finished, and Johann felt stuffed with the massive amount of goo so quickly shoved into him. The hands then grabbed the bottle and lifted him out of the chair. "WAIT!" he shouted. Miraculously, the machine paused. "What is this.. lesson... thing... you are giving me?" "LESSON 24B: DIAPER NECESSITY" "Yes! What is that? "LESSON 24B: DIAPER NECESSITY. USED FOR BABIES WHO ATTEMPT TO REMOVE THEIR DIAPERS OR ARGUE AGAINST THEM. IN ORDER TO INSTRUCT BABIES ON THE IMPORTANCE OF THEIR DIAPERS AND PUNISH FOR THE SAME TRANSGRESSION. THE BABY IS GIVEN SUPPLEMENTS TO ENSURE DIAPER USAGE, THEN KEPT INSIDE THEM." Johann's eyes went wide. "WHAT!? You can't... MPHHHH!" He was cut off once again as the bottle was shoved into his mouth. He glared at the arms, waited a moment, and refused to drink. "IF THE BABY IS HAVING TROUBLE DRINKING, HE CAN CERTAINLY BE ENCOURAGED." The machine held up a massive wooden paddle. Johann stared at it a moment, and realized the machine wouldn't let him go until he drank anyway. There is no way he'd win a contest of patience with an inanimate object. He sulked, and began to drink. "GOOD BABY, GOOD BABY," the machine said as it rocked and fed him. Johann just tried not to think about what he was ingesting, and what it would make him do. There had to be a way out of this. When he finished, the machine put the pacifier back in his mouth without tying it on. It then put him on the ground and said "GOOD BABY, NOW PLAY WITH YOUR TOYS." Not wanting to risk another spanking, Johann picked up his teddy bear and made a show of playing with it, all while trying to think of a way out. More importantly, he wanted access to a toilet before his 'lesson' on diaper ususage began. He could already feel his stomach grumbling, and did not like what that meant. The control panel was on the other side of the wall. If he could get to it, he could reset the machine to accept his voice commands again. He picked up the bear and threw it to where the door way had been. He stood up, but after a command from the machine not down, he could back down. He then crawled after the bear, stopping before what was now a sheer wall. He ran his fingers along it, hoping to find some kind of handle. He slowly stood up, leaning on the wall so that the machine didn't tell him to sit down again, and felt for any kind of opening. HE began pounding on it with his mittened fist. He felt arms grab him and carry him to the center of the room. A finger waggled in front of him. "BABY WILL NOT DO THAT AGAIN. IT MAKES IT SEEM LIKE BABY IS TRYING TO LEAVE, WHICH HE KNOWS IS A BIG NO NO. BABIES CAN'T LEAVE WITHOUT SUPERVISION. NOW STAY HERE AND BE GOOD" A large blue baby bouncer appeared underneath him, and Johann was set down into it. His feed dangled half a foot off the ground, and he realized he wouldn't be able to move from that spot. He tried to push himself out, but it latched on around his waste. Meanwhile, his diaper was pressed up against him, reminding of his new status, and what he would soon be required to do inside it. He felt his stomach rumble, driving the point home. Johann looked around helplessly. Aside from the teddy bear, there was nothing in arms distance he could grab onto. He could put the tips of his toes on the ground, but only managed to bounce around, which he stopped as soon as he realized how he must look. The bouncer was stationary, there was no way for him to walk or move back toward the wall. Johann stayed and sulked for what felt like hours. He tried to amuse himself with the bear, if anything to make a show for the machine. However, he couldn't distract himself for long. The cramps inside him kept growing. They came on quickly, making his stomach rumble and complain. He kept hoping the machine would let him out, but there was no such luck, and soon he was desperate. "MMM MMM!" He began making sounds against the pacifier, hoping to attract its attention. He waved his arms around and pointed at the pacifier, while pouting and sulking to show something was wrong. The hands removed the pacifier. "IS SOMETHING WRONG?" it asked. "Yes! Please, I really need to go to the bathroom." "Babies don't use the bathroom." "Please! I need to go.. uh... number two." As if to emphasize it, his stomach grumbled, and he heard a loud fart escape. He blushed and hoped that was all it was. "THEN YOU ARE ALL SET. THAT IS WHAT YOUR DIAPER IS FOR." "No! Please don't make me! I want to use the toilet!" "POTTY TRAINING WILL NOT BEING UNTIL YOU TURN 3." "I'm A GROWN MAN, YOU DENSE RUST BUCKET! LET ME GO!" Johann was getting desperate, and angry. "ARE YOU HAVING A TANTRUM? BABY WILL NOT TELL LIES." "I'm not a baby! You will let me use the toilet or I'll have you deactivated you worthless malfunctioning bastard!" "NO. BABY WILL NOT BLACKMAIL HIS CARETAKERS. "But this is pointless! Its ridiculous!" "BABIES WILL NOT ENGAGE IN SELF DESTRUCTIVE NIHILISM." "This can't be real." "SOLIPSISM IS ALSO BANNED." "SHUT UP! And let me out of these diapers!" "THAT IS ENOUGH. YOU WILL USE YOUR DIAPERS NOW. INITIATING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCE 34 C." "What?" Johann said, color draining from his face. The pacifier was again tied into his mouth, and he was suspended bent over. A hand raised up and spanked him hard enough to make him yelp. SMACK SMACK SMACK! The hand continued spanking him, and the machine spoke. "BAD BABY! YOU WILL BE SPANKED UNTIL YOU USE YOUR DIAPERS LIKE YOU ARE MEANT TO." Johann was in panic. He couldn't do that. However, his bottom was already sore from the previous spanking, and there was no way to escape. Furthermore, the pressure was building, and he was getting desperate. He swallowed his pride, and gave up. He felt a massive stream of muck come out of him and into his waiting diaper. The spanking spread the warm mush around, caking him. He cringed at the feeling, wanting more then anything for it to be over. However, after all that waiting and holding back, there was a lot in him and it kept coming out. The hands slowed down to a light patting as he finished. He shuddered, utterly humiliated. His only relief was that no one was there to see it. It took him a moment to realize that the hand hadn't entirely stopped. Instead, it changed its pattern, rubbing him and patting him. He looked at it questioningly. "THIS IS PART OF THE PUNISHMENT. BABY WILL HAVE HIS MESSY DIAPER RUBBED TO INCREASE DISCOMFORT, THEN REMAIN IN IT." The machine kept going, then slowly turned him over and sat him on a pair of arms folded like a knee to bounce him up and down. "What kind of horrid nursery is this!?" Johann thought as he sobbed. He felt the muck in his diaper get pressed against him again and again. Already, the smell made him want to gag, and the feeling made it worse. When it was finished, the machine put him in the corner and ordered him not to think about what he had done and not to move. Johann sulked, almost thank full for the teddy bear and pacifier. Having nothing to do or distract him, he couldn't stop thinking about the feeling inside his diaper, the horrible smell, or his humiliating circumstance. How could the machine make a mistake like this? Why would it treat a 'baby' so roughly? And how could he get out? Johann had know idea how long it had been when the machine finally picked him up. "DID YOU THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU HAD DONE?" Johann nodded. "GOOD BABY. YOUR PUNISHMENT IS ALMOST OVER. YOU WILL BE CHANGED SOON, AND UNTIL THEN YOU CAN PLAY." Johann was happy for even the slightly good news, and tried to not think about the fact he was happy for a diaper change. That changed quickly, however, when he saw where he would be spending his 'play time.' The machine carried him back towards the bouncer, and despite his kicking and squirming, deposited him inside of it. "MMMMMMPPPHHH!" He moaned and wailed as the messy diaper was pressed against him. He sulked down, almost crying. The feeling was horrible, and getting worse by the minute. It was beginning to itch, and he was helpless to stop it. He hung pouting in the bouncer, holding tightly onto his teddy bear for the slightest bit of comfort. The machine turned on cartoons directly in front of him, and unable to turn away inside the bouncer, he was forced to watch. He didn't think he had ever been so miserable. Finally, the machine began to pick him up. "CHANGING TIME" it announced. Johann thought of how just a few hours ago that statement would seem ridiculous, and now it seemed like wonderful news. The arms had him suspended mid air when they stopped. Johann wondered what was going on.. "ACCEPTING NEW COMMANDER- Capt C. Cleveland." The machine said. "Oh no..." Johann thought. "When was the tour coming through?" As if to answer the question, the screen door began to move up. Johann's eyes went wide and he struggled helplessly against the arms. A deep horror dawned on him. "PAUSING FOR INSPECTION" the machine said, leaving Johann suspended mid air directly in front of the screen. There was an audible gasp as a collection of shocked faces saw Johann suspended spread eagle, wearing a babyish t shirt and diaper, sucking a pacifier, holding a teddy bear, with infantile cartoons on, clearly having just been taken out of a bumper and with a diaper changing table being prepared behind him. "Is that... is that Johann?" a voice said. Johann stared in shock. The voice was Amanda, one of his co-workers. Along with her most of his coworkers, his seniors, the commanders and admirals, the actual inspectors, and, it seemed, a tour group of visiting civilians. There were far more then he expected, and every one of them was staring at him. He wondered if anything could be more humiliating. His answer came quickly. "UNTWISTING ARMS" the machine said. Johann looked up to see that, by grabbing him when he was struggling, had become twisted in a loop. The result was Johann began to slowly rotate in front of the group. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would stop before it was too late. It didn't, and there was an audible gasp as Johann was turned backwards to reveal his messy diaper to the crowd, before facing them again blushing deeper then he ever had before. The audience was horrified, but remained, unable to turn away from the train wreck of a scene. "Ummm... Captain Cleveland... who is this?" the admiral asked. "That is... that is Johann sir, one of the monitors here," Johann's flabbergasted superior explained. "What is he doing dressed like that?" "Well sir... that is the nursery program, usually intended for babies." "Then why is he there?" "Well... there are... other... reasons people might want to use it. Some people take it for.. ahem.. personal reasons, which we don't ask about. It has different settings for that." "So, a fetish?" "Yes. He talked about going on sabbatical to relax... I didn't realize this is what he meant." Johann was partially relieved to finally have an explanation, partially horrified to realize everyone there thought he was a pervert. "Huh. It has other settings like this?" the Admiral asked. "Yes. Also, they can be used as a punishment, I'm not..." "PUNISHMENT INITIATED" the machine said. "Oh god" Johann thought as it swung him around. To the shock of everyone there, the machine bent him over directly in front of the screen. Johann cringed at what he knew was going to happen. There was a loud shout from the audience, and Johann felt a hand smack the back of his messy diaper. He shouted, and the hand kept spanking again and again. The audience was groaning and screaming. Captain Cleveland spoke up. "Abort, abort! Computer, stop that!" The machine stopped, and left him suspended. "Why don't we go check..." "CHECK INITIATED" the machine said. There was another horrified scream as Johann's messy backside was brought up close to the screen and presented to the audience. The screen was slightly raised to allow for a check from the audience. Johann heard loud gagging and people backing away. "IT IS MY OPINION THAT THE BABY'S DIAPER IS MESSY," the machine said. "NO NO!" the captain yelled, "just do what you were doing before!" "UNDERSTOOD. CONTINUING DIAPER CHANGE," the machine said, and Johann was carried to the changing table. There was a scream, louder then before, as people began filing away from the scene. "CLOSE THE SCREEN! CLOSE THE SCREEN!" the captain yelled. The crowd began to move away, with members stopping to watch in awe at Johann's diaper change. Johann himself was held down to the table as his diaper was untapped and removed. He stared at the closing screen, watching both his greatest humiliation and possibly his only chance of escape disappear. He thought of his future. These chambers were usually private and self sustained. If they thought he really was going on sabbatical, its possible he'd be here for months before they asked him back. That was even if they wanted him back after all this. He dreaded having to go in front of his boss to explain how he ended up in a messy diaper in front of the Admiral, not to mention the airborne robot. However, even that was better then staying here. He let the machine change him, and prayed someone would have the sense to come and ask. Thanks for reading! As always, comments or critiques are appreciated.
  10. A Lesson to Learn

    Jack woke up slowly. He glanced at the alarm clock beside his bed. 6:55. Five minutes until it went off.Smiling to himself, he reached over and turned the alarm off. He then looked down at the girl who was lying beside him. Brown haired, fairly tall, muscular, angular face with high cheekbones, and above all beautiful, Steph was the girl of his dreams. She was perfect. Well, except perhaps for one thing, some would say. As far as he was concerned, that was only debatably a flaw. Jack, himself a well built, tall and brown haired man, would probably debate the other side.As the clock neared seven, he bent over and put a hand on Steph’s shoulder. “Good morning baby girl,” he said, “its time to wake up.”She stirred slowly, smiling.“Come on little one, the sun is up! Don’t let the day go away.”“I don’t want to,” she said gruffly, but still smiling.“Awww well that’s too bad little one. You have to go to work.”“Says you, you’re just going to go back to bed.”“And whose fault was it for booking shifts on the weekend so you could go out on a weekday?”“Five more minutes?”“No. Come on, don’t be a brat.”With that, he picked her up and sat her in his lap and kissed her. She snuggled in close. She wiggled her bum over his legs, making a quiet crinkling sound. He turned on the bed side lamp, flooding the room with light. The large wooden bed they slept on was surrounded by a desk, night table, and deep red walls.“You awake now?”“Mmhmm” she nodded.“Good. Then it’s time for a diapie check.”She sat up straight and began to push away. “Hey no! Don’t be mean! Jack, no! I can do it!”“Come on baby girl, if you could do it yourself you wouldn’t need them. Don’t try to hide your widdle accidents.”She struggled half heartedly, pushing for a moment before letting him lay her down again on her back, not really trying to stop him. She folded her arms and made an attempt at a glare that thinly disguised a smile. “I can do it” she mumbled.“Sure you can,” he smiled. Slowly, he pulled down her cotton pyjamas bottoms to reveal a white diaper.Jack looked at it a moment. “Hmmmm… I think we can both guess what the answer is going to be,” he said. Steph blushed, still smiling, and looked away. “But I guess I can give you the benefit of the doubt. Even if it’s just to make you feel better.”She stuck her tongue out at him, and he replied with the same.Jack reached forward with his hand and felt the bottom of her diaper. “Yep, that is one wet diaper little one. Poor little diaper girl, never learned to use the potty I guess.”“Hey!” she whined, “it’s only at night!”“Sure it is Little Ms. Potty Pants. And never mind your excuses. It’s still more then you’re supposed to at your age.”“Don’t be mean! I can’t help it! It’s not fair to make fun.”“Oh yeah? Then why do you smile every time I do?”She struggle a moment, trying to frown, but her lips kept moving up. “Shuddup,” she said. Then, her smile turned a bit darker. “Maybe there is something I know that you don’t know.”“Uh huh. Apparently “how not to be a pants soaking diaper girl” isn’t one of them. That’s something I know but you don’t. Come on, let’s get you changed.” He stood her on her feet, patted her bum, and led her by the hand toward the bathroom. The bathroom was attached to the bedroom. It was black tiled and grey walled, and had the full sink, toilet, shower and bath, with a few long mirrors along the wall.“Heh! I can do it myself!” she said, pulling.“Sure you can. You can also wake up to the alarm every morning rather than my kisses, but we both know you prefer it this way. If you didn’t want me to change you, you’d have stopped me some time in the last 8 months we’ve been doing this.”“Fine,” she said, and lay down.Carefully, he undid the tapes on her diapers. “Tsk tsk little princess, supposed to be all grown up, and still getting your soggy diapers changed. When are you going to grow up and learn to use the potty?” He wrinkled his nose.She made a face that was between a glare and a pout, but the smile was coming through.He continued. He was taking as much time with it as he could. He opened the front of her diaper and wrinkled his nose with an exaggerated disgust. “Jeeze. I bet the entire house would smell better if you did, stinky girl. Look how soaked this is! If it wasn’t for your little baby pampers, we’d of had to through the bed out.”“You know, it’s not nice to make fun of medical conditions. You better be careful!”“Oh, and why is that, smelly girl? What’s gonna happen, one day your wet your diaper-wipers too much for me to handle?” He wrapped up the used diaper and through it out.“I’m just saying, bad things sometimes happen to people who do stuff like that. People don’t like it, and they want to get back at them.”“Sure, sure baby girl. You can’t even get by without me changing your huggy-wuggies. I’m not afraid.” He began cleaning her with baby wipes.“Well, Karma happens, it’s all I’m saying. And stop calling them that! You sound ridiculous.”“What? You don’t like me teasing you with the names of your cute little pamper-wampers? I don’t think the girl who just got her huggy-wuggies should be calling anyone ridiculous.”“They are Dry-24/7s and you know it. Adult diapers, not baby diapers.”“Uh huh… Pretty sure that’s an oxymoron. They are definitely your widdle baby diapoos.” he stopped. He reached inside the pack and took another out, then studied it carefully. “You know… since you’re such a potty pants baby, I’m not sure if I can let you go to work in normal undies. I think you should be in your diapers. Just in case.”“Oh really?” she asked dryly.“Yep. I think little babies who wet themselves should be in diapers 24/7, just like the name says. In fact, I think I should put your bum right back into diapers right now and send you off like that, crinkling away. Then, if anyone noticed, they will know that you’re a little baby potty pants. Seems fair to me.”“Alright.”“What?”“Do it. Diaper me up. I agree. Like you said, little babies who wet themselves should be in diapers 24/7. Totally fair. ”He looked at her questioningly. “You’re serious?”“Yep. Like you said, I clearly need them.”Jack wasn’t sure what to do. He had been teasing her, as he often did. Normally they moved on, kissed, than repeated the joke the next day. He never expected her to actually tell him to do it, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. What was she up to?“Well? Are you going to diaper me or not?”“Sure, if you want it. I’ll diaper your bum little girl.” He grabbed the powder.“Buut…”“Here we go,” he rolled his eyes. He knew there would be something else.“BUT,” she emphasized, ignoring his remark. “If I wear this to work, then I get to decide what you wear today.”“So you’ll just put me in diapers? No deal.”She giggled. “No, no. I have a different idea for you. You’ll be wearing my clothes. My NORMAL clothes. Don’t worry, I’m not going to put you in diapers this morning.”He leaned back and thought a moment. “So you’ll wear a diaper to work, and all I have to do is cross dress at home?”“Yep.”“Where no one can see me?”“Yep.”"Why would that be worth it to you?"She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't know. I guess you'll have to wait and find out."He looked at her, then at the thick white garment in his hand. Was this some kind of trick? She seemed pretty eager... but this was the sort of game they often played... What was she planning? He thought a moment more. “Alright, deal” he said. They shook hands.(Part 1 of 4, comments and critiques are appreciated)
  11. Punishment Time

    Footsteps marched down the long, white hallway. The turned a corner, and disappeared. Now was his chance.With the silent agility of a cat, Brendan crept out of a roof vent, lowered himself down, and ran down the now empty hallway. He ran along the walls, staying out of view of the ceiling cameras. He reached another hallway, and paused. He took a mirror and shone it around the corner, watching for the next camera. He watched as it turned a full 180, pointed in his direction, and began to turn again. Just as it was pointing away, he bolted across the hallway and into the next one.Now was the tricky part. His target was within view, only a few meters away. It seemed like nothing was between himself and the last door. However, he knew that this was a trick, designed to lull him into a false sense of security.He took out his infra-red sensor, and pointed it down. As he thought. Beams of light, representing lasers, appeared on the sensor. If he stepped on either one, he’d be zapped, set off an alarm, or one of a dozen other rough outcomes. No matter. This was nothing he had dealt with before.The first one was at his waist level. He crouched down, and crawled under it. The next, right after, was along the ground, with one above it. He raised himself up and rolled over it. Then there was a series of three, going from the ground up. He put one hand against the wall, then a foot against the other. He pressed hard, lifted himself off the ground, and raised himself horizontally between two of them. He forced himself through, and dropped. The next ones were above ground, so he crawled, and jumped over the last one. "HA!" he thought. "Too easy." Finally, he had made it.His heart pounded in anticipation. This was it, the final result of months of work. Months of research, gathering information, memorizing layouts and patrol times, faking keys and identification, had brought him here. If he pulled this off, he’d be the greatest- and richest- thief in the world.Behind those doors wasn’t any normal prize. It wasn’t money, or gold, or some kind of expensive artwork. Behind those doors was something much more valuable, something that many people didn’t even know existed.Behind those doors was the world’s only working time machine.Constructed by the Order for Global Security, a secretive organization that dealt with many illicit affairs, it was used by the organization to control things in their favor. Using it, they could change stocks, create demands, end deals before they began, or even stop opponents from ever coming into power. With it, they could literally control the world. Understandably, there were many people who wanted to get their hands on it.He reached into his pocket. Once he had the machine, it would be easy to get out. Simply go back in time when there was no building there, walk away, and go forward again. Or freeze time and walk out. Or go forward when it was forgotten and back again. Really, the possibilities were endless. All he had to do was get through this door. Laughing, he took out the key he had made weeks before, following a design he had stolen from the security. Shaking with anticipation, he put it into the door.He frowned. Something was wrong. Why wouldn’t it turn?He tried again. Still didn’t turn.The blood drained from his face. This wasn’t the same lock that was there before. It had been changed. Which means… oh god.He looked around. The hallway looked different then it had moments ago. There were suddenly more cameras, and all pointed at him. He took out his infrared and pointed it down. All the lasers had switched positions. They knew he was coming, and he played right into their trap.There would be some kind of punishment, he knew. They wouldn’t let him get away with this. He doubted it be legal, the things they were making were far too secret for that. This would be something else entirely.He felt something in his pocket. He reached into it. A note had appeared, apparently placed in an alternate time. He shivered with fear, realizing they could change any part of him by going back into time. The results wouldn’t be fun for him, as the organization was known for having very particular ways of deal with enemies. Death, or even extreme pain, wasn’t likely. The organization preferred to make a public example of their enemies, and then keep them under watch. They did it with a strange sense of humour that kept many from challenging them.He opened the note. “Dear Brendan,Congratulations on making it this far. Of course, we knew from beginning you would do this. In fact, we knew before you did! But it was still interesting to see you try. You certainly have some impressive skills that may prove useful. However, first, you need to be taught to that the Order will always be a mistake, and possibly re-raised with a new mentality. At the same time, you of course must be made an example of.So, we are going to perform a test. If you can demonstrate your skills to a desirable extent, then you will be allowed to carry on, serving the order while being monitored. The more your skills fail you, the more you will be punished.The security measures around you have been changed, as have many of the streets. You have 10 minutes to make it to 143 Cassiden Street, or we start changing you. Good luck, and god’s speed.PS: You won’t like the changes we make on you.PPS: Don’t try to drive yourself.”Brendan paled. Changes? What could that mean? And what would re-raising imply? He took out his cell phone and searched for a map of the area. As it said, many things had changed. In fact, he seemed to be in an entirely different area. Cassiden street was miles away. He doubted anyone could make it, and he doubted he was even supposed to make it. What if this was all just their game? Still, he knew he’d be punished either way, and the longer he took the worse it be. He had to play their game, he supposed. He looked at his watch. 12:10, at 12:20 the changes would begin.He shown is sensor down the hallway again. Where before there had been only a few lasers, there were now dozens upon dozens. He scrambled as best he could going through. Under one, over the next, between two more… What made it worse was that they were clearly changing as he went through. He struggled, running out of breath as he did, until he was finally in the clear. He ran by, simply ignoring the lines of camera’s that pointed right at him.He looked at his watch. 12:15. Half way done, and he hadn’t even made it out of the building yet! He gritted his teeth and ran faster.A large double door came within sight. After that, he’d at least be out of the building. He ran towards it, then groaned. Seemingly out of nowhere, a pair of guards in blue uniforms appeared, staring right at him. Perhaps they had picked him up on those cameras he had ignored, and hid somewhere nearby. Perhaps they were planted with the time machine. It didn’t matter. It was just one more thing to deal with.The first one his hand. “Stop!” he shouted. Brenden kept on running. The guard too out a baton, and held it threateningly towards Brendan. Brendan kept running. At the last moment, he jumped and raised his foot with all his momentum behind it. He kicked the man hard in the chest, sending him flying back against the wall. The second guard raised his baton to swing it at Brendan. Brendan ducked underneath and stepped forward, blocking the swing at the elbow and delivering a punch to the man’s solar plexus. He grabbed the outstretched arm and flipped him over his back.He felt an arm around his neck. The other guard, having recovered from the kick, grabbed him and started to chock him. Brendan stepped to the side and hit the man in the groin, tripped out his leg and stomped him on the ground. By now the second guard was getting up, and Brendan finished him off with a series of punches and a head kick. He looked down at the unconcious guards. "Scrubs" he thought.More guards were coming down the hall. Brendan ran out the door, and into the open field beyond…Which was now a city. The streets were empty and dirty, and the tall buildings nearby were filled with broken windows and boarded up doors. A siren screamed in the distance, and the smell of gasoline filled the air. The door behind him, once leading to a clean and pristine building, was now bolted shut and rusting.“Shit,” Brendan said. The abilities of these time machines really were almost unlimited. From what he understood from stolen reports, they would call up all these areas out of nothingness, or transport victims to new cities. How much of this involved actually changing the history of the area and how much involves simply transporting the victim was difficult to say, as the areas usually returned to normal afterwards, remaining only as a confused memory in the head of the one who experienced it.He looked at his watch. 12:19. F%*^. One minute. Making the time was a lost cause from the start, he knew. He still had to rush, or else the changes would get worse and worse. He dreaded to think what the first would be.There was a line of old cars along the nearest street. He ran towards it, hoping to at least make it to one before the first change occurred.He had no such luck. Something appeared in his hand, and he opened it up to see a scrap of paper. He unwrinkled it, and read. “Dear Brendan,Good job getting out of the building, and getting past our guards. You are quite the man to fight like that. Too bad you took too long. Expect the first changes to occur, and get worse the longer you take. We will see how long you are ‘quite the man’ for.”“S#!%” he said, and kept running. He dreaded to think what that could mean.Something felt different. He questioned at first if it was his imagination. It was he legs. Or really, it was his groin. Something around it felt… smoother. Had they replaced his underwear? Why would that be part of it…Ignoring the thought for now, he broke the window of the nearest car with his fist and opened the door. Once inside, he went under the wheel and began to hotwire it. With years of practise, it only took a few moments for the engine to start. It sparked into life, and began humming quietly.He sat down on the seat, pressed the pedal, and…Nothing happened. In fact, the engine had stopped all together. Shocked, he got out of the seat, and checked under the wheel. Had he lined up the wires properly?There was nothing there. The wires he had just seen were gone. “God damn machine!” he said, cursing the time travelling. He shouted out in pain. Suddenly there was a stinging sensation across his bum. He stood up. To his surprise, his pants were down around his ankles, and his behind was now a deep red, with multiple hand prints across it. It took him a second to realize someone, in another time, had been spanking him. They really did intend to embarrass him more than anything. He bent down to pull up his pants. There he saw what had caused the sensation earlier. The long black boxers he had put on that morning had been replaced with a pair of pink, silken panties. He glared at nothing in particular and pulled them up along with his pants. No time to waste removing them now. They wanted to make a joke about him being ‘quite the man’, they could.He ran to the next car. He didn’t have to give in that easy. He smashed the window as before, opened the door, and got under the window. He checked the wires. Now it was an easy job of attaching the blue wire to the… or was it the red one? Wait, how did this work again?Suddenly Brendan realized he had no idea what he was doing. But he had done this hundreds of times! All he had to do was remember how. But every time he tried to remember and got to the moment of doing the actual task, the memory disappeared into a haze. He reached for his cell phone, hoping to at least look it up online, if there was a way. However, the internet function was gone. What was going on?A note appeared in his hand. He opened it up and read.“Dear Brendan,Glad to see you enjoy our choice of underwear. We all agree it looks better on you, and suits your well.In case you are wondering why you can’t hot wire this car, the answer is simple. We told you not to try to drive yourself, but you did anyway. We tried to warn you with the spanking at the first car, but you persisted. So, we have simply wiped any training you have had in this from your passed.Any skill can be forcibly forgotten, and any skill can be returned if it suits us. Don’t test us again.”Brendan was now drenched with sweat. Was there any limit to what they could do? Oh well, it didn’t matter. He’d make it, and they said they could return the memories to him. He ran down the street. All he needed to do was find someone who would drive him. Technically, that wasn’t breaking the rules. And if that didn’t work out, he’d run the entire way.After running several blocks towards Cassiden Street, the city began to improve. There were less boarded up doors and cracked windows, and several shops were running around him. Soon he reached a street which was more active. The buildings weren’t worn down, and people were walking up and down the side walk.He just needed to talk to someone. He had money, and would pay for a ride. At the very least, he could ask for the number of a taxi company. The group, around half a dozen men in their late teens, turned to stare at him. They were giving him funny looks, and a few seemed angry, while others seemed to be laughing.Ignoring that, he tried to speak. “Hello, I was wondering…” he stopped. Was that his voice? A once deep and gravelly croon had become higher and smoother. His words came out in a effeminate sing song voice, as if spoken by a young girl.“The hell are you supposed to be?” one of them said, and began walking angrily toward Brendan.Brenden gulped, backed up and looked around nervously. Wait… since when had his reaction to a threat been fear? Why would he… He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a nearby window, and gasped. His clothes had changed. His physique had changed. Everything seemed different. The long dark clothes he had been wearing earlier had been replaced by a silken dress. It was bright pink and decorated with flowers with a white apron and puffy shoulders. The entire thing was overly frilly, with excessive ruffles and bows everywhere possible. His hair was longer now, down passed his ears and tied into pigtails with more pink bows, and his once thick, muscular build had become more slender. As if to add insult to injury, he couldn’t help but notice his legs had been shaved. He gulped and looked back at the approaching men. It occurred to him he had probably stumbled on a street gang, and looked like a perfect target. Misreading the group that badly was a mistake he wouldn’t have made before.It didn’t matter. He knew how to defend himself… didn’t he? He put on a stern face and tried to take a stance. He lifted his arms up in fists and spread his legs… or wait… should they be closer together? How did his hands go again?The group stopped approaching and began laughing. “Haha aww, do you really think that’s going to work sweetie?” one said.“Shu.. SHUT UP!” Brenden screamed, and realized he was pouting. This only caused them to laugh harder.“Did your daddy teach you how to fight? I’m sure you’re a tough little girl,” another said.Giving up, Brendan turned and ran. So that was another skill gone… he couldn’t defend himself anymore. They didn’t follow, they seemed too caught up in laughing.He passed more people along the sidewalk. Most turned to stare at him, and a few snickered or outright laughed. He did his best to ignore it.He checked his watch. 12:40. He needed to get a cab as quickly as possible.A note appeared in his hand. He groaned, and stopped when he heard his own high pitched whine. He opened it up, and read.“Dear Brenda,Awww, poor little girl. Were you trying to start a fight? Naughty girl.” As he read this, Brendan felt another sting on his bottom, and realized he had gone through another spanking. He winced and kept reading. “You will find fighting isn’t a good idea anymore. Until we say otherwise, your once impressive skills, and even your coordination, will be lacking. After all, it isn’t proper for cute girls like you to fight.Now, it seems you have had trouble making it in time. Clearly, you are lacking in some areas of your training. So, we will be moving back, and restarting. I suggest you hurry.”Restarting? What could that mean? Dreading to think of it, he continued on.Once again, something was different. Once again, he noticed it first around his groin. His underwear felt thicker. As he walked, he could hear it crinkling. Dreading what he would see, he turned to face a wall, and, hoping no one would notice, he lifted his skirt.He gasped and almost began to cry. He fought back the tears, knowing full well that he wouldn’t have normally responded like that. For a second he wanted his silk panties back. Then he remembered that that too was wrong, and wished for his boxers. Instead, he now wore a thick Disney Princess pull up.Enraged, he reached down to tear it off. He found he couldn’t break it, so he pulled it down to his ankles.He screamed in pain, and put his hands on his bottom as it burned worse then before. He heard giggling behind him. Looking back, he saw his skirt had been pinned up to his back, revealing a bottom now even more tender and marked with a strap. A crowed was behind him, seemingly following him to see his embarrassment. They were pointing and laughing at his clearly spanked behind, along with a note attached to his back which read “naughty girl”.He pulled his skirt down and kept walking. He heard laughter again, and turned back to see his skirt was once again pinned up again, this time revealing an even thicker white garment. His eyes went wide. He lifted the front of his skirt and looked, confirming his suspicions.The boxers turned panties turned pull ups had once again changed, this time into a thick disposable diaper. It looked, in every way, like a baby diaper, with thick tapes on either side and pictures of teddy bears along the front. Making matters worse, the note on his back had changed to “naughty baby,” and the marks of his spanking were now visible along his legs.He reached down to take it off, then stopped. How… How did this work again? He knew it was something to do with the tapes… or was it the bottom part? For the life of him, he couldn’t think of how to remove it.A cold dread went down his spine. They had made him wear it, but had they made it necessary? He tried to remember how to use the toilet, but shook the thought from his mind. He didn’t want to have that question answered just yet.He groaned in disgust, and let the skirt fall. He tried to ignore the fact that it now barely covered his diaper, leaving the bottom exposed and the rest visible whenever he stepped. It had become significantly shorter, and now featured the words “Baby Girl” along the front. “Oh come on!” he thought, “Even real baby dresses don’t say that!” He groaned and continued. He felt something on his head, and found a pink bonnet to compliment his new look.He continued down the street, waddling as quickly as his padding would allow. The crowed still followed him, giggling and awing at his appearance. He noticed something in his mouth. Reaching up, he found a pacifier. Griming, he spat it out, and kept waddling.He felt it again. He reached up, and the pacifier was still there. He tried to take it out, but something stopped him. As he reached for it, the thought of losing it suddenly frightened him, and he suckled on it harder. He tried to fight against it, but his instinct as to suckle. It must have been some kind of hypnosis, he realized. Even with the knowledge, he couldn’t seem to fight it. He gave up, and kept going.Finally, he found what he was looking for. A yellow cab was coming down the street, directly toward him. He called out, and waved for it. The cab driver gave him a funny look, but pulled over.“Hewwo, can oo take me toos Cassidean road? One fower tree.” Brendan asked. Dear god, was that his voice now? The higher pitch was one thing, but he now spoke in a barely comprehensible lisp, sounding more like a child then anything else.The cab driver laughed. “Awww, sure thing sweetheart. Is that where your mommy is?”Brenden blushed, and didn’t answer. He got in.The cab turned around and drove. He tried to make conversation with Brendan a few times. “So… did you lose a bet or something?” He asked first. Brendan didn’t respond. Later, he spoke again. “Do you need those diapers? Let me know if you need them changed.” Brenden blushed further, noticing the change from assuming it was a joke to assuming he needed it. Brendan looked at his watch. 12:55. How much more could they change?Brendan watched the streets go by. They passed out of the large buildings of the downtown core and into the houses of suburbia. Soon, they were on Cassideen, and heading down. 114, 116… 138, 140… Brendan looked at the driver with a start. He kept going, with no sign of slowing down.“Heys! I says one fowr tree!” he said around his pacifier.“Don’t worry,” the driver replied. “Your daddy told me what you need little girl.”Daddy!? Little girl!? Brendan began to panic. A note appeared in his hand. He opened it, and began reading.“Dear Widdle Brenda,You didn’t think it be that easy, did you? Don’t worry, since you’re such a little cutie, we are going to give you a hint.The driver has his own set of instructions. Don’t expect him to take you where you want to go, you are still be tested. You’ll need to get out on your own accord.You are now almost as far back as we can send you. Don’t worry, you are still the same age as before, and can regain your skills if you show you deserve them. It is disappointing that you couldn’t do better than this, however.PS: Try to keep your pampers dry.”Brendan looked for a way out. He went to undo his seat belt, only to find he was now in an oversized baby car seat. “Top!” he said, trying for stop. The driver grinned and kept driving. “I Sat gua pa… MUYA NA!!!!” “Hahah yes of course little one, of course,” the driver laughed.Brendan began crying, realizing he had lost his speech. He still struggled to get out, and finally undid the buckled on the car seat. He reached for the door. The driver cursed as Brendan opened it, and he slowed the car. This was all Brendan needed, and he jumped out.He got to his feet and tried to run. He stumbled forward. He tried to stand again, and fell. Groaning, he began to crawl, his pampered behind wiggling behind him, realizing that was now what he was reduced too. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw the road was empty. At least he didn’t need to worry about the driver any more, he supposed he passed that test.He tried to remember what the house number was. He remembered the sound, won for free, whatever that meant. He tried to match the sound with the symbols on the houses he passed, and couldn’t. However, up ahead he saw two people standing on a lawn, facing him. He crawled toward them, trying to move as quickly as he could. The stood patiently waiting, making no move to come towards him, and forcing him to crawl the entire way.Finally, he made it. Dressed now in his diapers, dress, and bonnet, habitually sucking a pacifier, hair long and tied in pigtails, body slender, and crawling while barely able to speak or read, he had made it.One of the two, a tall man in a suit, looked down at him. “Tsk tsk Brenda. I really hoped you’d do better than this. Almost an hour to make it here, and all skills regressed to those of an infant. All the way from an impressively trained criminal to an adult who still needs diapers. How does that feel? How does it feel not even being able to answer that, you poor little baby? Don’t worry, we can return them if you deserve it, or simply train you again from scratch. Linda?”The man turned away from his gloating, and the person behind him, a woman in a nurse’s outfit, reached down toward Brendan.“Don’t worry little one,” she said, “I’ll take care of you until you learn better again.” Brendan sulked, now fully realizing what "re-raising" meant.
  12. The Lost Ones

    David struggled, out of breath. He held the bar to his shoulder, and slowly lowered it."Done!" he said in a breathless voice, mentally adding "finally." Lifting weights was far from his favorite pastime. However, under the circumstances, it was necessary.He faced a mirror, seeing his own blue, blond hair and smooth face. He ran a hand down his right shoulder and arm. "Better," he thought, "but not great."He himself didn't care about what he looked like, and especially not about being muscular. He wasn't even sure if he could become muscular, at least not in the same way some people at the gym were. However, he also needed to fit in. While the exercise machines now being built certainly made it easier, the growing trend where people worked out regularly for appearance and fitness made things more difficult. He had free weights in his house, and would need to use them later that night as well.He passed by the front desk, nodding to two staff members at the desk, who nodded back and waved. This may be the last time he came in. He'd been there a few months, longer then he usually stayed at one gym.As he left, one of the staff members turned to the other."You see that guy?""Yeah? The quiet one?""Yes. He's been coming here almost every morning for three months.""So? He's dedicated. That's what I like.""Yeah but.. I know some people at one of the other gyms in the area, and apparently he did the same thing there before switching to this one, and someone mentioned he was at another place before that.""And?""Well... Isn't it weird he keeps switching? And...""What?""Does he LOOK like he's been working like that for a year?"...David was walking past closed shops on a downtown road. It was still early morning, and if he was lucky, he could get home before more people were out. He hated walking around when it was crowded, but hated the dark even more, so this ended up being the best time to get around. He would have to come out later, he knew- there wasn't much he could do before anything was open, and he had to get buy- but for something he could do at any point, like attend a gym, it was ideal.He stopped, his eyes going wide. He was passing by a toy store, one of his favorite spots in town. In the window was a giant brown teddy bear. He stared, pressing his face and hands against the glass. It looked... soo... soft! He loved the material they used for stuffed animals recently. He didn't know what it was, but he loved just pressing it against his face. One like this he could use as a bed, his full body covered with softness...He was already pressing on the door. It wouldn't budge. He looked down at the handle. He pressed again, angrily. He shouted and began kicking the ground. Why wouldn't it open? He looked at the door again, noticing the sign that said closed. "ERRRR" he said about to pound on the glass, then stopped. He couldn't do that in public, what would people think if he saw? It was locked, there was nothing he could do, he thought. The thought made him sad, almost tearing. He looked at the door again. He could always come back later and buy it if he thought of it, he reminded himself. Now happy again, he began skipping down the road and smiling."Drat," he said suddenly, noticing his shoelace had come untied. He knelt down to tie it."One over the other... DANG!" he said. He spread them out to restart. Sometimes he question if he should just give up and get velcro shoes, but that seemed like it would cause more problems then it solved. One thing he didn't want was questions about why he was wearing anything deemed childish."Why hello there!" a warm, elderly woman's voice said.David frooze."Are you lost? Do you need help with your shoe laces?""Ummmm..." he said, not looking up."Let me help you, then you should get on home.""Ye..es," he replied, panicking.The speaker, a gray woman with glasses, bent down in front of him. David blushed and looked around as she began to lace his shoes. He hoped no one was watching. He knew he should have said no, but he couldn't find the words, and he really did need the help..."There, all done! Now you keep practicing and you'll get it one day!""Th..thanks," he said. He doubted he would, though."Now you hurry along, little one."David blushed deeper. He remained kneeling and looked down, avoiding eye contact. Hopefully she would move on before she noticed."Are you alright? Why aren't you getting up? Should I call for help? Where are your parents?"David closed his eyes. "Drat," he thought. "Well, I'd better get it over with." He stood up and looked at her.At first she seemed surprised to find he was as taller then she was, if not by much. She then fixed her glasses, and gasped slightly. Now it was her turn to blush. "Oh... I'm sorry. Please excuse me." She went walked beside him and left, surprised to find the person she had taken for a child was a full grown adult.David sighed. It was always worse with the elderly, and especially woman. Having bad eyesight didn't help either. Anyone looking at him clearly would see him as he appeared- an adult, if with some youthful features. However, they often responded to him different on instinct. Older people with maternal or paternal instincts often felt this the strongest, while younger ones often expected him to play games. Combine that with an inability to seem him properly, and sometimes they just assumed.He put the incident out of his head and kept walking. Hopefully no one would notice.He arrived at his house. He called it his house, but it wasn't exactly a house, and wasn't really his. He lived in a section of the bottom floors of a large house that had been divided into apartments, which he rented from the owner. However, the other apartment was unoccupied, meaning he could often come in and go without anyone noticing. This, combined with its proximity to downtown, gave him everything he needed- privacy, ease of use without needing to drive, cheap price. Also, the fact that there was often someone else in the building that he knew was a reassuring thought, especially at night.He unlocked the door and went inside. He walked down the hall, then stopped. There was a sign in front of him saying "lock the door, dummy!" He kicked himself and went back and locked the door. He then went through, past the sign. He stopped again. There was another sign in front of him saying "take of your shoes." He struggled with the laces, eventually kicking them off. As he stood up there was a third sign reading "and your jacket." He took it off and through it on his chair, before scolding himself, picking it up and hanging it properly. He had a closet full of half-haphazardly hung clothes, most of which he bought after reading online about what 'a man should wear' but never actually put on, finding them too uncomfortable or just not thinking about it.He walked up a small flight of stairs and into his bathroom. It was a full bathroom, with white paneled walls reminding him not to take electronics and stuffies into the tub and what to do if anything began to flood. He faced a mirror and put a hand on his belt. He closed his eyes. He never enjoyed this part, and he was feeling anxious.He pulled down his pants then opened his eyes to see a white diaper around his waste. He reached down and felt the plastic, then ticked his toung. Wet. Second day in a row at the gym. Sometimes, if he was calm and not distracted by anything, he could go a few days dry. However, his mind tended to wander, and when it did he would never know. At the gym, when he was straining, it could have happened at any point. He couldn't always even tell afterwards, and finding it here always made him wonder if anyone in the gym or on the long walk back could tell. He shuddered at the thought.At least he wasn't messy, he told himself. He could normally avoid that one, depending on what he ate and how close he was to the bathrooms. It still wasn't perfect, and he wasn't getting any better. It annoyed him now, as modern advances meant he could get diapers that looked just like regular underwear for public use, but there was no way they'd do the job well enough. As it was, his control took a lot of effort, and he only did it when he was in public. Even then, he didn't like it. It felt wrong.He glanced down. There was another reason it took effort. Under the sink, where he stored his diapers, there was a pile of thicker teddy bear printed ab diapers with a note attached reminding him not to wear them out. The rise of the internet, and with it the availability of abdl clothing, had been like a miracle for him. He struggled a moment, the adorable images calling to him, the softness... and stopped. It already difficult to hide the white diapers, and the few times people had noticed were embarrassing enough. He didn't need to have to find a way to hide the extra thick padding or risk someone seeing his teddy bear prints.He took off the wet diaper, thew it out and got in his bath tub. He filled it, cleaned himself, and got out and left the bathroom still naked.He kept an agenda on the small square table in his kitchen, which he now opened. He used his phone to check the date and matched it. He groaned. The agenda was something he had come up with knowing that if he left himself to his own devices he would never get things done. He modeled it off of examples he had found online, letting them replace the authoritative voice of a someone who could make those decisions. He had work again today, which he despised. Why did people spend so much time doing stuff like that when there was so things to play with? But it was what adults had to do, and for now he had to live as an adult.He opened he fridge. There were rows of sweets and pastries, along with peanut butter and different jams. There were also microwavable meals, as it was the only form of cooking he could do without causing a problem, and some... other things. Being an adult also meant he had to eat certain things, which he didn't like. This was something normally someone else should take care of, he thought, someone who knew better and could decide and make him do it... but he was there, so he had to make himself. He grimaced, grabbing a sweet pepper. "One vegetable with every meal," he reminded himself. He closed his nose, opened his mouth and ate it as quickly as he could. He followed it by drinking water from his tap as fast as he could. He then grabbed a piece of cake and ate it with his hands. He shuddered. Eating healthy was annoying.He went into his bedroom. It was large with baby blue walls and a crib that had detachable rails in case someone was visiting. He had hung pictures of video game and comic book characters on each wall, as he had learned adults had art, and most of the room was filled with piles of toys and old clothes. He opened his closet and struggled to ignore his preferred side, with he soft, cute clothing he preferred. Changes in fashion meant that he could sometimes wear one peice pajamas, and it seemed soon rompers would be acceptable. He loved it when things liked that happened. However, neither was appropriate for work. He began by laying out a fresh diaper, making sure it was plain white rather then printed. He poured a liberal amount of powder on it, taped it on, and got up. He then pulled a pair of boxers over it, covering the edge and ensuring a tear in his pants wouldn't be a disaster while muffling the crinkling sound. Next was an undershirt. He put on soft green pants and the required collared shirt, which was blue and striped with white. He found this worked the best- long shirt hung over his waistline, and the undershirt was tucked into his pants in case anything rode up.He then walked back into the bathroom. He sighed. He reached under the sink, and took out the make up.He began with small lines. Tiny changes, so that if it washed off no one would notice, but enough to make a difference. He had tried more drastic changes, but that had ended in disaster after a sudden rain storm. He put lines under his eyes, emphasizing cheekbones, and making his face seem narrower. He then took a comb to his unruly golden hair and used cream to hold it in place. The result was barely noticeable, but subtly added years to his perceived age.He scowled and stomped his foot. IT. WASN"T. FAIR. He hated doing it. Why couldn't he just got out normally? He pictured his face- cherubic was the right word. He could probably play Cupid if called upon, except he didn't know if Cupid would mind. He looked at his waiste, and angrily pulled up the pants which had slid down, revealing the top edge of his diaper despite all his efforts. He'd be dressed the part too. Why couldn't he just go out as is? He had to dress in all these bizarre clothes, doing everything he could to hide the rest of them, to change his face... He began to tear again.He breathed. Throwing temper tantrums wasn't a way to convince anyone he was mature, and the tears would rinse away the make up. People had already began to question things about him, which was never good. He knew he would have to move soon, which almost made him cry again. It was necessary, though. He had to keep moving, and to hide some things. It was one thing if people began to think he hadn't aged in ten years. It was another all together if they realized he hadn't aged in the last twelve thousand.
  13. Baby Pig

    Blackness surrounded her. She struggled, but was unable to move. Ropes dug into her limbs, pulling her and twisting her into cramped crouched position on her side.Worse, she had no idea where she was or why.Gabriela thought she was moving. It was more of a guess then anything, however, as the thick cushioning around her hid any vibration and she couldn't hear the sound of an engine. It was more of a hope, that she was travelling somewhere and would be allowed out when she got there.The only problem was she wasn't certain if she really wanted to be where she was going. She had undergone her training, really more of a series of punishments, and been sold. She knew that much. After that... nothing. She imagined she had been drugged with something. Even stages of her training were blurry and she wasn't sure if she was supposed to remember them. Owners were notoriously different in how they took care of their subs. Some were loving and kinds, others were harsh and cruel, with all levels in between. Gabriela imagined whoever now owned her wanted her disoriented and confused, and the plan was working.Finally something seemed to change. The air smelled a bit fresher, and felt cooler. She heard creaking. She still couldn't see anything, but felt hands reach down and grab her. She was pulled out of her confined and untied. They put her on her feet, and she stumbled until she was grabbed by both arms and held up. Finally, a blindfold she wasn't aware she was wearing was pulled off her face. She blinked quickly, unused to the sunlight, and tried to look around.She was facing a farm, she realized. There were acres of field of her covered with rows of corn. In the distance she saw a large, three story house built with white paneling and brick. Beyond that was a series of large steel barns surrounded by animals. She turned around behind herself to see a row of houses. Finally, there were several large men around her, who all seemed to be focusing on a single woman in a dark suit. The woman was holding a riding crop, she realized with a gulp. Gabriela was suddenly aware that she was entirely naked.The woman in front of her smirked. "A bit scared, are you? Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have lots of fun." The others all laughed at her. "As long as you can behave, that is. You, my little one, are going to be my star attraction."She walked up to Gabriella and began inspecting her, grabbing and pinching at her flesh. "You certainly seem to be in good shape," she said. She kept looking at her, then sniffed the air. "You smell though." She fingered the sweat that had been building up on her when she was locked up. "You smell like a pig. Don't you, little piggy?"She stared at the woman blankely.'Well?" She snapped the riding crop at her thighs. "Answer!""Yes! Yes I do!" She whined, terrified."Good piggy. What do you smell like?""A piggy.""Good. Say it. Say your a pig and oink for me."'I'm a pig I'm a pig! Oink oink!" Gabriela was confused and frightened. This was not something she had expected or had been trained to do, and she responded as quickly as she could to avoid the crop. The other's laughed, and she wondered if perhaps it was a joke of some kind. She stared around, eyes pouting and pleading for some explanation. Instead they laughed more as her face turned red at what she had been forced to do.'Good girl. Yes we are going to have a lot of fun. But first, we need to get you ready. I'm afraid you're training hasn't quite prepared you for what we do here. I always thought it lacked in some areas. But we can fix that, can't we?""Yes, ma'am," she gave the reply her training had made instinctual. She smiled. "At least you're obedient. Maybe its a good thing they didn't train you for this, it makes it more fun for me." The woman reached into his pocket and pulled out a collar. It was thick and black, but decorated with pink hearts. A set of steel tags dangled from the front. She reached around behind her neck and attached it. She then turned something, and she heard a snap. She drew back his hand to show a key, which he put into his pocket. "We won't be needing this," she said. As she said that, Gabriela felt one of the men behind her sewing an extra piece over her collar. It really wasn't coming off, she realized as a pit formed in her stomach.'This collar marks you as my own. I am your mistress, you are my property. The collar won't come off and it is reinforced with wiring, so don't even try to cut it. There is a tracker inside it, so we always know if you try to run away." She fingered the tags in front of her. "These give all the information anyone needs if they find you, including how to bring you back to me, what you are going to be called, how you are to be kept when found, and how you are to be punished. You don't need to know what it says, any more then a pet dog or cat would ever know what her tags say. Believe me, you don't want any of that enacted, and if it does, we have more permanent ways to mark you. You don't want to be branded, do you?""N- no ma'am!" she said, shaking.Sje smiled. "Good. Now, if you behave well, this won't be too hard for you. However, cross me..." she held the riding crop up "and it will get much worse. Understood?""Yes ma'am!""Good. Now, come with me." Her mistress attached the end of a leash to her collar, then turned around and began to walk away. Gabriella tried to follow her, but one of the men around her forced her down to her knees. She didn't move for a moment, then the leash tightened and forced her forward. The woman turned back and smirked as she began to crawl after her, naked except for her leash and collar, and slipping in the mud. Even with the training she had gone through, the idea of strangers seeing her crawl around, naked, sweaty and dirty was horrible. For a moment she almost wished she was back at training, where at least she was indoors, with people she knew and doing things that had become familiar. She remembered those days- the constant embarrassment and pain, how she wished to finally be done and moved on to her owner- ironic that she now was craving it.Her new owner led her down a long drive way toward the house she had seen. She must have been rich, she realized, as it was far larger then any farm house she had seen. As they got closer, however, he turned and led her down a different path. Gabriela glanced toward the house, confused, but didn't dare raise the question. He training had taught her not to speak unless spoken too, and hundreds of hard lashes came back to her at even considering doing otherwise. It was only as the turned around the corner of the house that she realized with increasing dread they were heading toward the barns. The smell of animals hit her at once, and she almost choked. She prayed that she wouldn't be expected to live there, among the animals and filth... but worse things had happened to subs. She sighed and went through a mental list of all the horror stories she had been told, all the things that could happen, all the placed she could go if she didn't behave and should be happy she wasn't going to. It was a method she had been taught to behave for her masters. People who lived solely to be punished, spanked and whipped hundreds of times a day and force fed garbage food before being left to sleep in bondage. Boys who were treated as girls for all purposes, with details that left all the males listening in near tears. People being locked in the same diaper for days, living and sleeping in their filth until the smell and the rash became unbearable. She had experienced portions of a lot of them, and didn't want any more. She couldn't place what was happening on any of the descriptions she had been given, but perhaps that was by design, as many owners wanted what was happening to be a surprise, and the trainers always knew what was best. The exercise helped her. She was here to be his submissive, a role she had been chosen for based on her own behavior and trained to do. It was her job to do as ordered without questioning, no matter how humiliation and painful, and she would do it as her duty. She looked at her new owner, feeling a mix of fear and affection that had been trained into her. She was there to please her. The owner knew best, the owner was in charge, and the sub must obey, she kept telling herself. Nothing else mattered.Finally they reached the barn. She opened a side door and lead her in. Pigs honked all around her, and the smell was far worse then the outside. She cringed as he led her through piles of mud, straw and waste along the floor, and tried not to inhale through her nose. Finally she pulled her into an empty stall, then turned to face her."Enjoying it so far?" her owner asked.'Ye-no---YES ma'am!" she said, trying to decide what he wanted to hear rather then state her opinion. The woman laughed. "You don't have to lie to me. Tell me the truth. What do you think?" "I'm scared ma'am," she said truthfully. "What if I told you this was your new home? Would that make you happy?" "No ma'am," she said, almost in tears. She knew she wasn't supposed to complain. However, she had asked, and hadn't told her what to think. "Awww poor little baby piglet," her mistress reached down and rubbed her head, then cupped her chin and raised her face. "Don't worry. This doesn't have to last. If you show you can behave here, you'll be allowed to live in my house, ok? You can be kept clean, and wander around behind me, cuddling against me and eating beside me. You'll only need to come back here for shows or for punishment. Doesn't that sound fun?" She nodded, truthfully. What he was describing was almost ideal for a sub- to be kept in comfort and coddled, a plaything to be spoiled and cared for by the owner. "Now. As for your outfit. I think it needs to be changed, don't you?" She looked down at her naked body. Before she could respond, the men on either side of her lifted her up. They carried her to the side of the pen, where there was a large shelf, and dropped her on all fours. Her owner reached underneath the shelf where there was a set of small doors. She opened them, and began to take things out. Her mistress held the first object in front of her. It was a large steel plug with a curled tail at the end. A replica pigs tail she realized. "You, my little one, are going to be my baby pig. Understood?" "Yes ma'am," she said in a broken voice, dreading the feeling of the plug. "Now now, from now on my name is Mommy, alright? Mistress also works. And you're new name is going to be Piggy, though I'm going to have fun calling you different names you need to get used to. Alright?" "Yes Mi- Mommy." She said, and her mistress laughed. Mistress reached behind her and slowly slide the plug inside. She cringed as it went in, then sighed in relief when it finally stopped. The intrusion was noticeable, but not painful. She looked back to see a tail seemingly sticking out the back of her, and blushed. Did she have to be a pig? She had been trained to act like a puppy, and a cat, but a pig? The thought made her shiver, and she tried to remind her self of what she owed to her mistress, and how much worse it could be. Somehow, it didn't help much. "Oh, and one fun part about this?" her Mommy took out a controller, which she looked at curiously. She pressed a button, and Gabriela gasped as it began vibrating. "Enjoy that?" She nodded. "Annndd if you're naughty," she pushed another button. A wave of shocks jolted Gabriella, making her squeal until he hit the button again. She lay down panting for breath. "Less fun, eh?" She nodded again and whined. "At least it makes you squeal like a piggy." Her mistress ruffled her hair. Her Mommy then picked her up and turned her over onto her back. Gabriela realized that the other men who had come with her had departed, perhaps convinced her new owner had her under control. "Now, want to guess what is next?" she asked. Gabriela shook her head. The woman reached underneath to pull out a white object. "I did tell you you were a BABY pig, didn't I?" she asked. Gabriela's eyes went wide. It was a diaper, she realized. She had been trained for this, but hadn't expected it after everything else. She turned it over to show the printing on the front, displaying cartoon barn animals each smiling and wearing a diaper. She pointed to a pig. "See? Just like you. Now lift your hips." She groaned and obeyed. This had always been one of the worse parts of her training. Diaper training had always been humiliating, and combined with the rest, it was too much.The woman slid the diaper underneath her and powdered it well, then lifted her ankles up and readjusted before bringing them down. She felt the thickness of the cushion underneath her, then between her legs as the lifted it up and taped it on snugly. It was wider then most of the diapers she had been trained with, she realized. Perhaps to encourage her to crawl like a pig, she thought, shuddering again. She went back to her training and reminded herself of what else she could be doing. "Good baby pig," her Mistress said. She turned her over into crawling position again, then reached into her diaper and pulled something. To Gabriella's surprise, the tail came out through a tiny hole in the diaper, which she realized must have been specially designed for this exact humiliating ordeal. She groaned again. She felt a sharp pain on her thigh and yelped. She looked back to see her Mistress holding the riding crop up. She stared at her in fear. "I don't want to hear that complaint again, Piggy. You are hear under my ownership. You do not get to argue. Whenever I give you something, no matter how humiliating or painful, you will love and cherish it, not groan. Is that understood?" "Yes Mommy sorry Mommy!" She said. She couldn't believe what she had been doing. She had upset her owner on her first DAY. It had been far different then she had expected, but it still didn't bode well for her. "Good. Next time, however, will be far worse. Now, lets finish getting you dressed. Her owner reached underneath the shelves and took out a long piece of pink cloth. Her mistress pulled it over her, and she realized it was a onesie that seemed to combine a baby's pajamas with a pig costume. It fit tightly around her, and seemed to be made out of latex. She tried to fight back the whining at the appearance. Next the took out a bonnet with pig's ears sticking out the top and strapped it under her chin. She held up a pacifier made in the shape of a pig's snout, put it in her mouth and tied it behind her head. This was followed with mittens in the shape of hoofs, and a pair of similar objects he attached to her knees. She wondered at this a moment until he attached a strap to her ankles and tried it to the back of her onsie, leaving her feet in the air and her body balancing on her knees and hands. Finally, her owner picked her up again and set her down on the ground in the mud. She looked around at her surroundings, and her new home. There was a pile of straw in the corner which she assumed would be her bed, and a trough she prayed she wouldn't need to eat from. There was mud and dirt everywhere, and it was impossible to keep clean. Worse of all, there was a mirror leaning in a corner, seeming to exist only for the purpose of showing her how ridiculous she looked. She could have cried at the appearance. Her mistress snapped the riding crop at her. "Crawl!" she said, and Gabriela jumped to obey. It was snapped again, and she yelped. "Crawl!" the woman said again, pointing in a direction. Every time she reached one side of the tiny pen, her Mommy smacked her again, and sent her crawling in a new direction. She rushed each time, panicking and feeling the need to obey. She became filthier and filthier as it happened, and her eyes became wet with tears. Finally her Mommy snapped it again. "Now, roll around in the mud like a pig." She obeyed, now fully crying. "Awww is my poor baby pig sad?" her Mommy asked. She nooded, holding back tears. She whacked her hard with the crop and she yelped. "Well, get used to this for now, you will spend a lot of time here until you prove you deserve something else, and still more time after that for shows." She looked at her owner. Shows? He had mentioned it before. What did he mean? She hoped it wasn't what it seemed. Her mistress seemed to read her mind. "Oh, don't worry, that will become clear soon. See, this isn't just a farm, but a museum of farms. And you, my little piglet, will me my star attraction." She began to panic. She hadn't even thought of that. She was going to go on display? For money? She tried to raise the questions, but the pacifier muffled them. Her mistress snapped the riding crop again. "Now now, no arguing. IF there is one thing they taught you, it was that. But, as for the things he didn't." She croached down beside her. "Even after you've earned the right to live in my mansion, IF you earn the right, you will come back her every weekend, and whenever people are willing to play. You will put on a show for them, crawling around, being punished as they demand whether you deserve it or not, using your diapers like a good baby." She pointed to one corner with his crop. "See that corner? WHenever you use your diapers and earn a change, they will be dumped right there, so you can live next to your own waste like a real pig." Gabriela yelped at that. Next she pointed to the door, and a truck out front. "That truck has raising sides so I can tour around, putting you on display, charging people to see you and to 'play' with you. And I bet you can't wait to find out what 'play' means." She shuddered. "You will earn your keep. And for now...." she pointed to the trough. "That is what you will eat from. You will have a good meal, loaded with plenty of stuff that will ensure you use your diapers not long from now, as I lead you around town to advertise my new exhibit. In fact, lets get started, shall we?" She pulled a lever, and a disgusting mixture of slime and chunks pored out. Gabriela prayed it wasn't just what was fed to pigs, but from the appearance and smell it very well could have been. Her mistress leaned over and sprinkled a jar into it. A laxative, she realized. Her stomach turned at the though. Where had THIS been in the training? "This will help ensure you don't have control over certain functions, I'm sure you can guess which. The only control will be this, and the plug it is attached to." She held up the remote, then reached down and untied her. "Now, get eating." She unhooked the pacifier. Gabriela looked at her pleadingly, and she raised the crop. She crawled forward and stared at the mess in front of her. The smell made her want to gag. She had hoped perhaps it appeared worse then it was for show, but if anything, the opposite seemed to be true. Was this supposed to happen? Masters had a duty to feed their subs. It was never clarified what, but this... SHe looked at it again and almost thew up. "Well? I'm waiting? Don't let them get the laxative or you will regret it." She indicated the other end of the trough with her crop, where Gabriella realized to her horror pigs had began to eat from a different section. IN reality they weren't close, but the thought was enough to make her cringe again. She stared at the food with tears in her eyes. This wasn't what she had been trained for. The diapers were one thing- she had experienced that, and if anything it was the worse she had experienced. Even being treated like some animals was alright, dogs, cats... But pigs? She groaned at the though. Nothing she had done was that humiliating. Then living out in the barn, surrounded by animals, laying in filth, diapered anyway as if to add insult to injury, and paraded around for all to see and PAY for favors? What did that even mean? She began to shake her head. Tears poured from her eyes. Everything in her training told her that it was wrong, that she must obey, but... this was too much. This wasn't what she had wanted at all. "No," she said, shaking after speaking words she never expected to say. "No Mommy I won't. I can't." "Excuse me?" she spoke in a cold, calm voice, and grabbed the crop with both hands. She stared at her, to terrified to speak. As soon as she had said it she knew it was a mistake. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. It began with shocks coming from the plug. She collapsed moaning to the ground. The shocks continued, and she struggled to get back up but found her muscles were too weak. She felt arms around her. She was picked up, then lain stomach down over something hard. It was her owner's knee, she realized, and she was in position for a spanking. The first blow was enough to make her yelp. A loud THWACK filled the air around her, and a sharp sting made her jump. She dared not struggle, however, as she knew she could only make it worse. The spanks continued on her padded rear, each getting more painful then the last as the soreness from the combined spanking and shocks grew. She lost track of time and had no idea how many she had received when she finally felt a pause. She looked up at her mitress hopefully, but turned back down and sobbed loudly as she felt her undo the back of her onesie and pull down her diaper. (Continued shortly)
  14. Casey's Nanny

    The mood struck me to write today and I think I've got the seeds for a good and hot original tale for you all. I have had difficulties finishing stories in a timely manner in the past and I can't offer any assurances this one will be any different, but I'm gonna do the best I can. I encourage your feedback through comments and messages! Casey's Nanny Casey had been having a pleasant dream when the sun coaxed her awake. In the world she just left, her fiancé had taken her to the beach when of course, she was pulled away just as he began to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered open, allowing unpleasant glimpses of the bright real world to take her further away from the dream. She tilted her head just a little to let the shadow cast by the bar fall over her eyes. It was just enough to let her close her eyes again without strain, and she sleepily struggled to get back into the dream world. Sleep would not come back however, and with a pouted face she opened her eyes, resigned to start the day after all. She was lying on her right side, facing the big window that overlooked the city. From the 26th floor, it looked like Charlotte would be enjoying a nice summer day, and its rising sun was encouraging everyone to get it started. Casey thought about how just a short time ago she might’ve pulled the curtains to her room tight and slept-in a couple more hours before going to the pool. Now, her window didn’t even have curtains, and even if it did she wouldn’t be able to close them. Like so many other things, she didn’t make that decision anymore. She rolled over onto her back, ignoring the muffled crinkle from below, and stared up at the mobile slowly rotating high above her. She enjoyed the warmth from the sun – her thin cotton onesie had only short sleeves and no leg covering. She didn’t always get a blanket and could get cold lying on just the hard plastic bottom of the crib. It really offset the cool dampness of her diaper, too. The big crinkly plastic was uncomfortable on ever more frequent “wet mornings” like this one. Ever since she had moved into her new room, she had less “alone time” with her fiancé and Daddy, Travis. Of course, that wasn’t the main reason she was so wet… She knew what she had to do in order to start her day…to start the process of unlocking her crib, undoing her diaper, and getting her hungry tummy a bottle…but she hated that part. She hated having to do it and deep down she hated how easy it was becoming for her to convincingly fake. But a wet diaper can only wait so long. She started her shallow breaths and focused on the diaper, just as she had been taught. Feel how clammy it is after a few hours, doesn’t it feel cold? The words of her teacher rang in her head, reminding her of everything she had been taught to think, and the diaper felt colder, more uncomfortable. You’ve been in them for hours. I bet you didn’t even wake up when you did it, and you know what that means! She had learned early on what it felt like to stay wet for a while, but at the time she never thought about involuntarily doing it in her sleep. Now, she was sleeping like a baby in more ways than one. That acknowledgement scared her, humiliated her, and…slightly excited her…which scared her even more. The upset look on her pretty face was real now, her blue eyes getting a little misty. She summoned a whimper from her chest, deep underneath her cute little perky breasts and the baby clothes that covered them. It made its way up her throat and escaped her lips, like the warning pitch from a boiling kettle. Is baby going to cry now? Come on you silly little diaper girl, cry for clean diapees! The humiliating sentences played over and over in her head as she felt more and more uncomfortable about her diaper and her whole situation. She wanted out of this wet disgusting thing now! She wanted to be able to walk herself to the bathroom down the hall like a big girl. The emotions built and built; what started out as a simple morning ritual was quickly becoming an existential realization of humiliation and helplessness. “A-huuu-a-huuu-a-huuuuuuu!!” she pathetically cried. “Daaaaaddddddyyyyyyy!” she wailed as the tears began to fall down her face. It was a relatively new requirement that before she would be released from her crib, she would have to cry out for help. It had started out as a token plea, but each day she was encouraged to make it more and more babyish. Sometimes she could hear someone outside the door keep walking if she wasn’t giving a genuine enough performance. Not today. These tears were frighteningly real and Casey wanted them to stop. “Waaaahhhh!” she cried, frustrated by the delay in the response and with the discomfort she could not escape. She clenched her fists and pounded the padding she laid on, wanting the door to open for her relief. And relief came. The door opened and a woman calmly entered, her mug of coffee letting off a small trail of steam. Casey filled with disappointment. She wanted Daddy, not her. “My my Casey, you’re getting quite good at this.” The same voice that had been playing in her head over and over, fueling her infantile outburst, filled the room with a condescendingly triumphant tone. Casey willed herself down to quick breaths and sniffles as humiliation and fear replaced frustration. “I’m afraid Travis has already gone to work, little one. It’s just you and I today.” She placed her coffee cup on the dresser as she moved to undue the locked bars of the crib. “We’re gonna have a fun day of training. Aren’t you excited?” Casey said nothing as anger moved back into her head. The woman hesitated in lowering the crib, shooting her a look that asked if she really wanted to challenge her right now. “Y-yes N-nanny,” Casey agreed through sobs. At 28, the woman was just a few years older than Casey, but had enough power and control over Casey’s life to make her feel like a small child. Satisfied with Casey’s answer, the woman began unlocking her crib. “It’s already 8 o’clock little one. Perhaps we should give you an earlier bedtime so that you can be awake to see Daddy off to work?” Casey’s eyes got a little big for a second. She was already in her extra thick diapers and night-night clothes at nine, with a firm lights out at 930! Nanny chuckled at her reaction before opening the crib. “Did we wet like a good little girl? Hmmm?” Nanny’s brown eyes looked into Casey’s baby blues for an answer, but her hand felt for one anyway, pushing underneath the plastic panties and feeling the diaper. “Yes, Nanny Sarah,” Casey said with resignation and a sniffle. “That’s a very good girl, that’s quite a streak you have going now. Very good.” Nanny patted her naked and smooth thigh. “Did baby wet in the night time or in the morning?” Casey looked down at Nanny’s hand now and blinked away some tears. “I wet this morning when I woke up.” “Are you sure?” Nanny asked with a hint that she might know otherwise. “Yes, Nanny,” Casey responded in a lower voice. She didn’t want Nanny to know just how much she really needed her diapers at night now. “Your diapers were very cold for someone who just wet, Casey.” Casey looked up to see a very firm eye looking down at her. “Are you sure you didn’t use them at night?” Casey should know better by now that very few things get past Nanny. “I woke up really early when the sun was just coming up then used them before going back to sleep, I promise.” Nanny seemed amused by this clever way of getting out of her lie. “Oh I see, you just woke up extra early then went back to sleep. Well as I’ve told you baby, you don’t need to worry about using your diapers when you sleep. It’s only a matter of time until you are doing that every night without ever thinking about it!” Casey’s fear rose again as Nanny just smiled. “Let’s get you changed!”
  15. bad toddler needs a strict mommy

    Ainsley's parents could not handle her behavior any longer. she spent her entire senior year of high school skipping class and doing drugs and her mother and father thought it was about time they taught her a lesson. "if you want to be a bad girl we're going to send you to a place where they will teach you to be a good girl again." they said. which was how Ainsley landed in the parking lot of sunshine academy daycare, where she would now be spending her days. she pouts, embarrassed how her parents have her dressed. she had a dora t-shirt on and a bright pink ruffled skirt, her hair was in pigtails. "okay Ainsley, let's get out and meet your new teacher!" Ainsleys mom said excitedly.
  16. I am going to ask the people

    I lady I know I took pictures from her discussion board on yahoo. She noticed them on my discussion board. I had since removed them, but she said I needed to be put over a lady or better yet a younger lady's lap and spanked. She also said what was done was childish and I ought to be diaper punished by having to wear a diaper. What is everyone's input on this situation.
  17. A Reason Why

    There was a great flash like lightening, and heat filled the room. He felt himself burning and woke in panic, not understanding what was going on. All around him was piercing noise, sirens slowly twisting into screams. His breath was cut off. In the noise he wasn’t sure if his calls for help were going unanswered or simply never left his mouth. He was in the air, moving without will as he was crushed against a mass of rough brown cloth. Screams still followed, distant and barely audible under a moaning, lurching sound, but piercing into his ears and his mind none the less, and going answered. He was outside. He felt the ground under his body. The cold air cut into him after the intense heat and he fell shuddering. The screaming continued, but morphed into a moaning, crashing sound, and stopped. Noise filled the gap. People were crying. Sirens wailed. The screaming remained inside him, echoing in his mind, and mixing with the ice cold wind. Something wrapped around him and he was warm again, and he hoped to never feel that cold again. He was in another place. The cold was gone, but the screaming remained. It was a different sort, a deeper, thicker, rougher shout, but still there, and he shuddered. Steven awoke in a cold sweat. The alarm was going off, screeching for his attention. He hit the button. He would have to get that sound changed.He got undressed and headed into the shower. He turned on the nozzle, and the heat came with a loud hiss… Burning, screaming… He shook his head and removed the thoughts. He blanked them out, turning his mind to other things. He had to get up. He had to get dressed. He had his job to do and a random nightmare was no excuse not to.He got clean as quickly as he could, dried off, and got dressed. His typical black suit and tie, along with permanently polished shoes and watch. He grabbed his long coat to go with it, and headed down stairs to the kitchen. Breakfast was already waiting for him. He thanked his maid and moved out the door.He got in a car - this one was a red sports car, for every second day of the work week- and turned the ignition, preparing himself for the noise. He had paid more than enough for it, and as the salesman said “if it doesn’t wake the neighbors, its not doing its job.” He never really enjoyed it too much, but it was almost expected to own something similar where he worked. He could drive in something cheaper. No one would really say anything. They would think it, though.The engine came alive and roared loudly… Crashing, moaning…“DAMINT!” he shouted. He thought he had gotten rid of those images. Years of hard work and secretive therapy sessions should have ensured it.He could call in sick. No one would say anything, of course. He was allowed to.They would all think it though. Just like the car. His boss was on his fifteenth year without a break. His step father had gone the full 35 years before his age granted him the leniency for sick days.He cursed, and drove off.He arrived at the office twenty-five minutes early, or, as he called it, ‘late’. He walked through the long grey hallways dotted with cubical and water coolers and made his way to his office. He passed by people he knew by name and department and flashed polite, empty smiles. He opened the door and went in. He had a large, lightly decorated office with a massive desk, a garbage can and a window whose blinds he kept perpetually closed. People started drifting into the building, chatting around his office. He concentrated on his work, but the noise built until finally had to slam his door shut.The time drifted by in odd bursts and lulls. He didn’t pay it much mind, he had work to do, and wouldn’t leave until it was done.A loud screeching noise made him jump.Screaming, shouting…He looked down at his phone and lifted the receiver.“Hello is this the Henry Berran Brokers?” a shrill voice asked.“Yes, this is Mergers and Acquisitions,” he replied.“Excellent. Do you know…”Something was happening outside. People were speaking, loudly.“if that is true, should we…”He took out a pen and began copying down what she told him.The voices were getting louder. Through the closed door, he couldn’t make out what they were saying.“And then I’ll need…”He made out the sound of his senior, Michael McNaughton. He began to shout at someone. He was always shouting.Shouting, screaming…“large tubes of..”He was getting louder and louder. He could picture him, red faced…Burning, steaming…Shouting louder, louder…Screaming, calling…“place it inside…”Someone was crying.Crying, moaning…“it may hurt a bit…”He was throwing things, tearing them apart.Moaning, crashing… The last remains of sunlight cut through the blinds, hurting his eyes.Burning, cutting“But I think we are ready…”Steven shouted and through his phone from his desk. It crashed into the wall opposite of him. He stared at it, breathing heavily.Finally he ran up to it again and picked it up. The women was still speaking.“Hello? What was that? It sounded like a crash!” she said.“Sorry, I, uhh… dropped my phone,” he replied.“Alright. Well is there anything else you need to know?”“No, that is fine,” Steven said. He was sure he had everything he needed in his notes.“Aright, well, goodbye! Thanks for everything.”“No, thank you.” He hung up the phone.He stared down at his notepad. Gibberish, completely illegible.He tried to remember any detail of the call. Her name, where she worked… nothing came to mind.He tore the piece of paper from his notebook and threw it into the trash bin. Hopefully it wasn’t anything important. He thought about calling back the same number, but it would probably only lead to a directory, and that was useless without knowing the department which called.He looked at his watch. It was late, most people were probably clearing the office. Never the less, he sat back down at his desk and kept working. There was still work to do, and leaving too early would always look bad.When he finally finished it was dark. The air was cold,Cold air, howling wind… and he pulled his jacket against it. He got into his car and began to drive away.He watched the road as closely as he could. The images from the dream kept coming back, and he shook them out of his mind.He turned the radio on, hoping it would help him clear the images out.He didn’t know the station. It seemed good enough at first, people talking calmly. They were announcing a new song. It came on gently, with a moment of silence. There was a voice whispering something, getting louder, and louder..Suddenly the singer was screamingScreaming, shoutingThe guitar came blasting randomly, pouring out notes faster and faster.Moaning, burning…The drums pounded.Crashing, falling. Screaming, shouting Falling, biting Burning, chocking, Flashing, cutting Howling, whining He screamed and fumbled at the radio. He looked down to turn the nob, and didn’t notice the light changing in front of him. He sped through, and a truck smashed into the side of his vehicle.…Steven woke up again, this time to gentle singing. He had no idea where he was. He was surrounded by warmth, and felt cushions piled around him. Everything was soft and silken, from the voice to the blankets. He sank into them and wished he could go back to sleep. He hadn’t felt this way in as long as he could remember.Finally he opened his eyes completely, and saw a white tiled roof he did not recognize. He sat up completely. He looked down at himself. He seemed to be fine. He didn’t seem to be injured and couldn’t feel pain anywhere. He was wearing long white pajamas. They weren’t his own, but they were comfortable and fit perfectly. The room he was in was painted a golden hue, and had wall to wall carpeting.There was a women sitting on a chair in front of him. She had been the one singing, and stopped when he saw her.“What is going on? Where am I?” he asked.“Don’t worry about that right now. You are safe,” she replied, in a voice as soft as the cushions.“But I need to contact someone. I need to get back to work, I…” he stopped as she shushed him and put a finger on his lips.“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. Don’t even think about work. It will all be alright. You are with us now, and we are going to take care of you. We will take care of everything you’ll ever need, and everything you could ever want. All you have to do is trust us.”Despite their strangeness, he felt a calm reassurance at her words. He realized he really did trust her. He nodded, and smiled. (If anyone is wondering, there is going to be ABDL material later. The story just needed some set up. So don't worry your pampered butts :p)
  18. Our new little girl

    This role play is about a little girl who is taken in by a wealthy women
  19. Babied Again(Open RP)

    My name is anna and i have agreed to become a baby again. The couple i have agreed to become a baby for are Micheal and Kelly Wilson. I have decided to become there baby since they could not have any children of there own.
  20. Most Durable?

    My wife and I do a lot of spanking play with diapers. As we have gotten more into spanking harder, we have become frustrated by the number of diapers that just sort of explode with a good paddling. Do any of you know of a (more inexpensive) diaper that holds up better to this kind of play? We use a thick wooden paddle with holes and swing sorta hard. We have used: Tena (normal), Tena super, abena L4, and a host of other off brand diapers
  21. Pathetic Sissy

    This is a dark femdom story, with strong sexual content and cruelty. Please don’t read if the subject matter does not suit. Pathetic Sissy “Oh you are such a pathetic sissy!” Steve’s wife laughed and whooped as he shot semen over himself. His chest heaved with exertion. “A wank after every poopie nappy! What would all your girlfriends on Tinder say now if they could see you right now? And Nanny Smacks, what would she say? I know Nanny Smacks would laugh at you now for being such a dirty smelly boy!” Steve lay on the damp rubber surface of the changing table with his rubber pants bunched around his ankles. The wet and soiled terry nappy was open and his rapidly deflating penis still oozing ejaculate after his orgasm. Steve’s eyes watered over as June scraped the semen off his chest and stomach in a spoon. “Don’t cry Baby,” she ordered, holding the spoon to his lips. “You have nothing to cry about. You made your bed, now you will lie in it for the rest of your life. Now, open wide.. NOW!” The fierce change of tone brought an instant reaction from Steve who opened his mouth to allow June to dribble the semen into his mouth. “That’s better, Swallow. Good Boy!” she mellowed. “Now let’s get you into a clean nappy for Nana shall we?” ***** One month before, Steve’s world fell apart on a Saturday morning. Steve and June had been your Mr. and Mrs. Average in Suburbia. Steve working in a bank in the city and June was a stockbroker, working from home. He was 31 years old and 8 years older than his wife at her tender 23 years. They lived in a large detached house in the “Green Fields” area of town, subsidized heavily by June’s wealthy mother who lived a ten minute walk away. Mrs. Sarah Whiteman was a significant citizen in the borough, an influential member of the local council. She was well known for her charitable works with the local Church and the Red Cross. They had been sort of happy, entertaining once a week and being entertained once a week. They didn’t have sex very often as Steve had problems maintaining an erection and each event turned out feel like a chore to both of them. June found this puzzling and frustrating as she was a highly desirable woman who was not shy when it came to the bedroom activities. Her body clock was ticking and after 2 years of marriage, her mother was already wondering when her grandchildren would arrive. Steve worked very long hours at the bank but June tolerated this as she knew he valued his career highly. They did not need the money as their future was assured by the large inheritance that would come their way. When it came to sex, he almost never initiated it, and more often than not, appeared reluctant to whole heartily perform when she took the initiative. June sometimes wondered if he was gay. He was certainly ‘effeminate’ in his movements and speech. His thin body frame was light with no significant muscle development. She had never wanted an assertive husband, and fell in love with Steve’s rapid fire humour and his conversational skills. She enjoyed a governing role in their relationship, taking all domestic decisions and taking responsibility for Steve’s wardrobe. Shortly after they were married, she surprised him in the bathroom while he was wearing her panties. Initially he appeared embarrassed but quickly laughed it off as a lark. Other signs she had noticed were dried ‘crusty’ tissues under his side of the bed and white stains on his pyjamas. She was not that naive to realize that he was masturbating privately and this deeply troubled her. These ‘signs’ appeared regularly over the following months and she had challenged Steve about it but he had been angry and sulky over the accusations. Then recently, June discussed it with her mother who was equally shocked, but also very angry. “He’s hiding something from you,” she declared. “We have to find out what.” June was slightly disconcerted by her mother’s assumed involvement but said nothing. They spent that afternoon going through all his personal things to see if anything was out of place and they made a significant discovery. Sarah found a pair of female panties hidden at the back of Steve’s bedside table drawer. It was evident that they were unwashed. “Are they yours?” Her mother asked. June shook her head, holding the item disdainfully with thumb and forefinger. The lacy material was bunched and stuck together and the gusset stained with ‘female’ discharge. “They are damp and strong smelling. I think the smell is semen.” “Bastard! The pervert must be seeing someone else!” June seethed. Her mother put a restraining hand on her forearm. “Softly, we need to get into his phone and computer and find out all the facts so we can decide a course of action from a strong position,” she said. June nodded and warily replaced the panties back in the bedside drawer, closing only after taking a photo on her iphone. Two days later that infamous Saturday morning arrived. Steve, June and Sarah were drinking coffee around the kitchen table prior to doing their weekly shopping trip. Steve’s phone rang and jumped up to take the call in the hallway. June and her mother listened carefully but couldn’t get any idea about what was being said. He came back into the kitchen finishing up the call. “Ok.. yes, we will talk about it on Monday morning but you are right, the deal sounds great. Well done. .. Right.. bye then .” “Who was that then? June asked innocently. Steve sat and picked up his coffee. “That was the boss, Charles, telling me about a takeover happening next week.” June nodded, pretending to loose interest and started talking to her mother about what was on offer this weekend. Then the women had a stroke of luck. “Back soon,” Steve jumped up and rushed upstairs for his daily call of nature. Unluckily for him, he forgot to pick up his phone. Before the screen saver could kick in, June picked it up and hit the ‘home’ button and started scrolling through the contents. “What are you looking for?” June’s mother whispered conspiringly. “Everything and Anything,” she smiled, working intently. She worked quickly and silently. Both women heard the upstairs loo flush. “Mum,” June said. “It’s all here. Enough to hang him.” June steeled herself as Steve’s heavy footsteps sounded descending the stairs. *****
  22. How do I handle this

    I've met someone that she is an ABDL mommy. I knew her from charleston WV. Lately I have been ignoring her emals and erasing them. Also the emails now are including paddling my "cute, baby-like butt" and keeping me diapered. I live in Huntington WV. I know she had been trying to find a mommy for in in Huntington. Should I keep ignoring her emails or should I tell her to get lost.
  23. Introducing me

    Hi, My name's Maria I am 32 years old and I live in Spain. Am also a lil gurl who luvs being read to, specially Enid Blyton and Roahl Dalh books! Am also terrible at arts and crafts but I love it anyways. Everything Disney is cool and if it's pink it's even cooler! I HATE being tickled and can't sleep without Teddy the bear. Can't wait to make some new friends here! Hugs Pinkbug