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From Shackles To Diapers


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-_-_Chapter 5_-_-

I woke from the most restful slumber I had ever had, an early morning breeze made the curtains dance in the sunlight beaming through the open window. I stretched my arms, pushing the sheets off me, letting my eyes adjust to the light. I slowly came to my surroundings, remembering the previous day. Looking at my waist, I saw the diaper I was put in was now swollen. ‘I definitely do not remember doing that’ I thought as I reached for the tapes. I pulled, nothing, I tugged harder, only resulting in my fingers slipping off. “Whatever,” I mumbled as I gave up.

 

“I thought I heard somebody waking up,” Anette said walking through the door. 

 

“Morning,” I grumbled.

 

“Aww, someone’s not a morning person,” she smiled as she lifted me out of the crib, “and that someone used his diaper!” she poked my belly with the last three syllables. She swung me up to what I now realized was a changing table, and took the plain shirt I had been wearing for at least the previous day off. She made removing the diaper look easy, removing the four impossibly strong tapes, before grabbing both my ankles in one hand and making quick work disposing of it.

 

“Bath time!” She announced suddenly, swooping me up in one arm and headed out the door. She reached the bathroom door quickly, and shut it behind her, setting me down on a plush carpet near the sink. As I was taking in the enormity of the room and its fixtures, Anette started the bath process, adding all sorts of soaps and scents, spreading out a fluffy white towel on the ground.

 

Her arms appeared from behind, depositing me in the warm bath, the walls of the tub looking like an emptied swimming pool, far too deep for me to try to get in or out without help. ‘Another thing I can’t do on my own’ I rolled my eyes. The warm water did feel good though, mixed with scents I couldn’t place and the bubbles resting at belly button level, this was what I always imagined spa’s to be like. Aside from the watchful she-giant, that is.

 

Anette started scrubbing, rubbing a shampoo through my hair, giving a light scalp massage as she lathered it up. I found myself enjoying it far more than I thought I would, surprised at myself I wasn’t feeling embarrassed or uneasy being stark naked in front of a stranger. She grabbed a cloth from the side of the bathtub, lathering some soap and washing me, as thoroughly as she could. Rinsing me off, she pulled the drain and wrapped me in a towel, rubbing me dry. She picked me off the slippery surface of the tub and I got the first real glimpse of myself.

 

“Is that me?” I asked, pointing into the mirror. 

 

“Mmhmm,” she smiled, waving at our reflection.

 

“Can I look,” I turned my head to her, “please?” I added.

 

“Of course” she smiled, placing my feet on the cold stone countertop, holding onto my hips. The reflection that looked back was not the person I remembered. My hair was a lighter shade of brown, nearly matching Anette’s, cut into a short clean style. I had no indication of stubble, my scars and blemishes were gone, leaving me with clean, smooth skin. My body hair matched my face, no sign that hair ever grew there. I was groomed and cleaned, even my nails were perfectly kempt, leaving me looking at least a dozen years younger. I partitioned the towel to investigate the rest of my body, finding that I was rid of the many hideous scars from my past, but thankfully nothing had been tremendously altered.

 

“Thank you,” I said finally, rewrapping the towel around me.

 

“For what?” she asked. She looked sincere, “You keep being so polite, I’m gonna have to let the neighbor kids teach you a thing or two,” she ruffled my hair, laughing. Quickly scooping me up, she toted me to the changing table, securing me once more in a diaper, after applying some sort of cream and powder to my privates and bottom.

 

“I still don’t need these,” I was hoping somehow to get through to her, let her know that this must have been some mistake on the form they must have given her, or an incorrect presumption she might have carried. I for sure didn’t know how these people treated their kids, ‘maybe they took longer to potty train?’ I guessed.

 

“I think your other diaper would argue otherwise,” she sang while gently grabbing my toes, bringing an involuntary giggle out of me. She snapped a buckle around my chest and quickly diverted her attention to the closet, grabbing some running shorts and a yellow shirt with some cartoon characters that looked like a cross between Sesame Street and The Muppets, with block characters that had no resemblance to English.

 

After dressing me, she brought me down to the kitchen and strapped me in the same highchair they did yesterday. She messed around in their massive refrigerator for a minute before coming into my line of sight again.

 

“Alright, so what sounds good, I have milk, formula, juice or Little-Aid,” she presented the bottles like a showman, giving me a good look at the bottles they came in.

 

“Um, juice please,” I pointed at the odd-looking fruit, my best guess would be an apple-pear hybrid. The fruit did look good, and made my stomach give out an impatient growl.

 

“Good choice, mind if I have some too?” Anette asked, giving me the puppy dog eyes, while pouring the juice in a baby bottle.

 

“Uh, if you want?” I shrugged. ‘Why ask me, I’m apparently just along for the ride’ I stared at the bottle, hoping to turn it into a beer bottle instead.

 

“You’re just the cutest thing,” she laughed at me, putting the drinks back. She tucked the bottle into the crook of her arm, freeing me from the binds of the chair with her free hand. We ended up back on the couch, placing her glass on the table and placing me on her lap. She rubbed the nipple of the bottle on my lips.

 

“Can Taylor open up for the bottle?” She asked. 

 

I shook my head and crossed my arm. ‘There’s a limit, and this is beyond what I’m willing to put up with today’ I crossed my arms in a huff. Anette used her free hand to tickle my side and slipped the nipple in my mouth when I started laughing. It felt surprisingly natural, and my mouth automatically started sucking from the bottle, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop it.

 

“That’s my good boy,” She coaxed, rubbing circles on my back.

 

The flavor of the juice was odd, the appearance of the fruit on the package bore the same resemblance in taste, making it seem like I was drinking a Capri-Sun, rather than an actual fruit juice. 

 

Anette dragged her nails through my hair as I downed the bottle, it did feel nice, but I hated that I liked it. I was an adult, I shouldn’t be drinking from a bottle, getting bathed and diapered by a woman who wanted to be called my Mom, it was wrong, wasn’t it?

 

I finished the bottle after a few minutes, Anette took the bottle, placing it next to her empty glass on the table.

 

“Did you like the juice?” she asked while softly smacking my back, bringing out an involuntary burp.

 

“It was good, we don’t have anything natural like that back home,” I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Where’s Jack?” I asked. I hadn’t heard anybody else all morning aside from her and I.

 

“He went back to work today, he’d taken some time off to make sure everything was ready for you, and that you weren’t going to be any trouble,” she smiled down at me, “which you haven't,” she added.

 

“Oh, what does he do?” I wanted to avoid any demeaning tasks for a while, so conversation seemed the best option.

 

“He works at Adopt a Little, he’s one of the consultants who makes sure Bigs are ready to adopt, he does home visits, financial investigations, interviews, and then matches Littles to their Bigs.”

 

“What do you mean, matching Littles to Bigs?”

 

“So, when Littles decide they want to come here, they have a lot of tests to do. Make sure they aren’t running from the law or debt, suffering from mental issues, and that it's their own decision.” She shifted in the seat, whether it was from mental discomfort or physical discomfort, I couldn’t tell, “There is personality tests, questionnaires, and a preference sheet that need to be close to a Bigs to make sure that a Little gets the experience they want, and a Big can treat their Little according to their beliefs. Your case was an extremely different case, as you are one of the first in this new program.Your government and the director of Adopt A Little wanted to help more Bigs get Littles, so they import people in positions like yours, who would do better in the care of someone like us instead of an institution. In turn, your government saves money and space in prisons for the real bad people, and Littles get to be cared for.”

 

“So people actually volunteer to come here? To get treated like a child?” It didn’t make sense to me, if you had the opportunity to live a decent life on Earth, why come to this cockamamie world?

 

“Hey, mister, don’t judge what you don’t understand,” her tone dropped to a serious and strict voice, “Littles come here for all sorts of reasons, and everyone has a right to find happiness, understand?” Her eyes were not budging from mine, and I knew she was serious. My gaze dropped, I know people struggle, hell, I had, but not where I wanted this.

 

“Of course,” I replied, people did deserve happiness, but this was not happiness to me, the Judge was right, this was a prison of its own.

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I wasn't sure about this story line at first, it seemed a little harsh to sentence someone to a life term for shop lifting and hitting a guard and a cop.  The more you tell about him the more I can see that the judge thought that he had no future.  He didn't have a job or a home, he was kicked out at 19 by his father, I doubt he finished school and had no real hope going on if he went to jail.  The scars on his body are either from fights or abuse from his father.  I don't think he would have lasted a year in jail without being raped or killed.  Just maybe having a loving mommy and daddy will somehow make the baby treatment easier to handle. 

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4 hours ago, Baby Billy said:

I wasn't sure about this story line at first, it seemed a little harsh to sentence someone to a life term for shop lifting and hitting a guard and a cop.  The more you tell about him the more I can see that the judge thought that he had no future.  He didn't have a job or a home, he was kicked out at 19 by his father, I doubt he finished school and had no real hope going on if he went to jail.  The scars on his body are either from fights or abuse from his father.  I don't think he would have lasted a year in jail without being raped or killed.  Just maybe having a loving mommy and daddy will somehow make the baby treatment easier to handle. 

 

I agree with you 100% ! 

I think the judge did it because he saw that taylor had never been love or cared about his whole life. He knew taylor word suffer and die in jail. So judge likely "missed filed something" to save him and hoping that he find happiness there. That would also explain why he got great bigs and he got them though daddy "connections". 

 

So I think the Judge is the real hero of this story! 

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24 minutes ago, Cuddy Princess said:

 

I agree with you 100% ! 

I think the judge did it because he saw that taylor had never been love or cared about his whole life. He knew taylor word suffer and die in jail. So judge likely "missed filed something" to save him and hoping that he find happiness there. That would also explain why he got great bigs and he got them though daddy "connections". 

 

So I think the Judge is the real hero of this story! 

Yes really trying to save his life,

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I like the chapter and how you see him sort of accepting what is going on but also still trying to rebel. However I imagine there is more coming for him to rebel against. I look forward to the next few adventures they have!

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Thank you all for the kind comments of encouragement, they mean a lot to me and it makes my heart melt. There is a long ways to go in Taylor's story, and I hope you all find it as enjoyable as I do! ❤️

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 3 months later...

Sorry for the delay folks, the last year has been rough on me! Anyways, this chapter was a joy to write and I hope y'all can enjoy!

 

-_-_Chapter 6_-_-

I woke up, several hours after our conversation, laying in Anette’s lap, my head on her stomach. The strange plushie was to her right, and I reached out to the creature, grabbing its wing and started pulling it towards me.

 

“Good morning again,” Anette said softly, adjusting herself to sit slightly more upright. She brought her hand to my back giving it a quick rub before reaching down and patting the diaper. “A little damp, still good to go,” she said smiling at me, brushing her hand through my hair.

 

I brought the bird/cat creature close to my chest, hugging it, still groggy and sleepy, and Anette’s warm body was too comforting to leave right now. smelling the soft, sweet scent of detergent emanating off the plushies soft, orange marbled fur.

 

“Are you going to name your friend?” She asked, poking my ribs softly.

 

“I dunno,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What is he?”

 

“He’s a vogel-katze,” she said grabbing him from her lap, “ancient civilizations used to worship them.” Anette danced him around.

 

“Oliver,” I smiled, grabbing him back from Anette.

 

“Does Oliver want to come with us?” She asked, smiling at the moment, picking me up and placing me on her hip. “We need to go out and get some stuff.”

 

That question snapped me out of the moment, “Out, like in public?” I asked. “I can just stay in my room,” I suggested. I really did not want this world to see me like this, a grown adult that simply could not handle adulthood, so was thrown into his righteous role of being a baby that needed looking after 24/7 again. “Please,” I added looking up at Anette. 

 

“Leave you home alone, what do you take me for, a terrible Mom?” she laughed, poking my nose to add emphasis, “I just got you, I am not letting you get swooped up by the Littles Protection Services this soon.”

 

At least she had perked up since breakfast. “I just don’t want to be seen, people will make fun of me.” I argued. 

 

Anette sat me in the crib with the rail down and turned towards the wardrobe, “Nobody is going to make fun of you silly boy,” She said digging through the outfits, fishing out a onesie with a cartoon character on it, and a pair of snap crotch shorts. Spinning around, she quickly disrobed the pajamas I had still been in, giving me a quick tickle on my stomach while I was trying to figure a way to get out of this, bringing forth an involuntary giggle.

 

“Do you want to try to answer honestly this time,” She asked, her face going back to a more serious complexion, putting the finishing touches on my outfit.

 

“I don’t want to go out because I look like a baby,” I said sullenly. “I’m a grown adult, I don't need this,” I said pointing at my diaper, “ and I shouldn’t be naming a stuffed animal after a Disney film I haven’t seen in eighteen plus years. I woke up in your lap with a soggy diaper that I do not remember wetting and to make it worse, I’m starting to think it’s okay to.” I finished on the verge of tears.

 

I had been more honest to this strange woman who had ‘adopted’ me than I had been to any other person I had ever met. I really did not know why, maybe it was having a motherly woman in my life, perhaps it was her soft, hazel eyes that seemed to gaze deep into my heart. One way or another, it seemed Anette was always able to understand me in a way no one else in my life ever had.

 

She pushed my chin up with a single finger until we were eye to eye, “Of course it’s okay to like what you like, you’re a Little at heart and that’s why you were sent here.” She thought for a moment. “Your diaper is there for a reason. It's a reminder that you need to trust us, your Bigs, to help whenever you want it, or need it.” 

 

She kneeled down in front of me, bringing her large, soft hands to my face, “We chose you, baby, when we saw your photo, we saw a boy in need of help and I would not let your Daddy say no,” she stifled a sob within herself. “I saw a boy so scared, so alone that I knew immediately there was a Little that needed someone in this world to trust and show what love is. When we heard you were facing jail time, your Dad and I knew that was not an option, and petitioned so hard to prove that you were worthy of a second chance.”

 

Trust, Love, Worthy those words rang in my ears and struck the last dam holding back the tears. They came big and fast, with my lungs giving out an ugly sob that echoed through the house. I fell into her chest, hiding my face in her shirt, crying hard into this woman that had so many feelings for me. 

 

We stayed that way for a while, my sobbing into her, while she quietly cried and comforted me. After my tears were all gone, and all that remained was my puffy eyes and catch in my chest from crying so hard for so long. She pulled my head away and looked into my eyes, “I love you Taylor.” I looked at her tear streaked face and stifled a hiccup, “I love you, Mommy.”

Edited by ZedMobile
Small typos, story was all bold for some reason
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  • 4 months later...

So… I am back. Kinda lol. School and work really took off, and I didn’t really have any time to myself, but I am now stuck at home for two weeks so here ya go. As always, please leave any thoughts as to how I can improve my story, thanks y’all!

--Chapter 7--

I had been changed into clean clothes, it was still a onesie and some denim shorts with snaps along the crotch, but at least they weren’t soaked from tears. I was placed on the floor of my room with Oliver while Mommy went to change, and I had decided to just lie down, resting the back of my head along where the plushie’s spine should be.

‘Should I really be calling her Mommy?’ I pondered. She was nice, not that I had seen too much yet, but the dynamic definitely favored her and Jack. It’s kind of embarrassing to call a near strange Mommy, she definitely held the role, but a lot of it was her control. But it was comforting to be cared for as well, to know you are cared for, a bed, food, and that someone is looking out for you.

Staring at the ceiling, I thought of the path that had led me down the road I had been on, and how different of a situation I could be in with a different decision anywhere in life. My hands explored the outfit, feeling the soft yellow fabric, the coarser plastic words on the front. My shorts surprised me with pockets, the bulk of my diaper hidden as the denim kept the shape masked.

“Ready?” a sweet voice broke me out of my headspace. A quick look over to the door showed that Mom had changed into a sundress and had done some makeup.

“Are we going somewhere special?” I asked as I stood up, grabbing Oliver.

“Not really, just wanted to feel a bit pretty meeting your Daddy for lunch.” She said as she grabbed my sides and put me on her hip as we started moving for the door. Daddy had been an overused word for people who wanted to feel kinky back on planet Earth, and still felt like a weird term to be used.
“Umm, I need shoes too,” I wiggled my toes up at her.

“You plan to do a lot of walking, Buster?” She smiled back, grabbing my naked toes and tickling them.

“Kind of,” I giggled back, “I don’t want you to have to keep carrying me everywhere.”

“Well, you don’t get that kind of say, but we can get you some socks if you’re cold.” She was smooth, knowing how to show her power while keeping it cute.

I nodded my head, I did not actually feel cold, however going out with something on my feet just felt wrong. She grabbed a pair of plain white socks from the top drawer of the dresser and slid them on my feet without setting me down. She held me with one arm, getting the rest of her items in her purse and backpack, juggling me around like it was easy.

The door to the house would honestly have put castles to shame, both in aesthetics, and impenetrability. It was thicker than my arm, and sounded dense as the hinges creaked as she closed and locked it juggling me and her purse with ease. The sun was high in the sky, blocked by the gently swaying trees that were taller than some skyscrapers back home. Looking back the house was a beautiful two story, made of brick and stone, the perfect picturesque home in the suburbs that the sappy Lifetime movies showed.

Before I knew it, Mom was locking me into a plush and plastic child’s seat, and placing a sippy cup in the cup holder next to me from the side pocket of her backpack. I thought about getting upset at her, I could most definitely sit up on my own, but the chair had great padding and after our little bonding moment, I didn’t feel like spoiling the day like that. She quickly shut my door, and got into the driver’s seat.

I stared at Oliver, positioning his soft body to lie on mine without falling. Looking up at the rear view mirror, Mom was getting finished settling in, the car moved without another sound, aside from the soft classical styled orchestral music from the speakers. I barely felt the monster-truck sized SUV move down the street, and I tried looking out the windows, but they were too high up, only letting me see the peaks of rooftops and the treetops swaying in the summer breeze.

“What are you looking at Bud?” Mom asked, looking at me through the mirror.

“Just out.” I answered, I hadn’t really been focused on any one thing, “If it weren’t for the size differences, I honestly would have zero idea I had left home.”

“But have I left home or found home?” I quietly whispered to Oliver.

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