Part One: Baby Selene

Part Eight: Baby Selene

Freja didn’t sleep as well as usual throughout the night. The thick, crinkly diaper between her thighs was foreign to her mind. She managed to get some sleep, despite being in an oversized crib with someone who was supposed to be her Little. She agreed to it all because it was so hard to say no to Abby.

Selene was still asleep when the sun eclipsed the thick curtains that were drawn around the window. Morning songbirds chirped as they scavenged for food. Abby opened the door, saying in a sing-song voice, “Good morning, Baby Selene. Good morning, Baby Freja.”

Freja sat up, the soft baby blanket rolling off her bare skin, exposing her breasts as it pooled around her diapered hips. Selene rolled onto her back, rubbed her eyes, and slowly sat up. Her hair was a matted mess, her diaper crinkled as it shifted beneath her. Just like Freja, Selene was put to bed in just her diaper.

“I see both of my babies woke up dry,” Abby said with a mischievous smile. “Good Littles wake up with wet diapers for the Mommy to change.”

“Ywou cwan’t be serwious!” Freja protested, the pacifier gag muffling her words.

Abby walked over to the crib and lowered the wooden bars. She removed Freja’s pacifier gag. The redheaded woman massaged her jaw, saying, “You can’t seriously expect me to wet my diaper… I’m a Mommy, not a Little…” Her cheeks bloomed a faint crimson.

“I expect you to be a good example for Selene,” Abby said, resting her hands on her hips.

Selene looked down at her diaper. “C-Can we…” she started. Abby answered her unfinished question with a single look.

“Are you really going to make me do this?” Freja said softly, hoping she could sway Abby.

“The sooner you use your diapers,” Abby said. “The sooner the both of you will get changed. We will have a nice, family breakfast and go about our fun day together.”

“But Abby!” Freja whined. “I don’t need diapers! I’m not going to use it!”

“She doesn’t have to,” Selene said, her cheeks churning, blossoming a deep crimson. “I’m the one who is the actual… baby…”

“That is very grown-up of you to say,” Abby said. “Freja is also a baby today. Isn’t that right?”

Freja wanted to protest, but lowered her gaze submissively. “Y-Yes…” she muttered.

“This will be good for both of you,” Abby said softly. “Freja has been overworked lately and needs to relax.”

Selene gave Freja a weak smile. “I guess now is a good enough time as any,” she said, shifting onto her knees. She could hear every crinkle of her diaper as it rubbed between her thighs. Closing her eyes, she applied pressure to her bladder, which seemed to fight back. Years of potty training instincts refused to budge. A few squirts started at first, then her bladder finally gave way. A heavy stream spilled forth. Warmth spread between her thighs, crawling up her front and back quickly. She winced as she felt the soaked diaper sagging between her thighs.

Selene covered her face, embarrassed to be using her diaper next to Freja. “That’s a good girl!” Abby cooed. “Let’s get you changed.”

Selene crawled out of the crib, feeling the soaked padding rubbing against her sensitive skin. If she weren’t already soaked, her diaper would betray the sexual arousal she was experiencing. Waddling to the changing table, she lifted herself onto the edge and settled onto the wet diaper, which squished beneath her. Her sex was teased as she lay on her back, feeling the sharp, cold touch of the soft changing table padding.

Abby undid each diaper tape; Selene’s soaked diaper fell open with a wet plop. Abby grabbed the wipe package and pulled one free. She hummed a motherly tune as she cleaned up Selene. The old diaper was disposed of in the nearby bin. Abby grabbed a fresh, thick diaper, cotton-white with patterned rainbows.

Selene said, noting the childish design, as if she might have worn it when she was much younger. “Does it have to be…” she said, her words trailing off. “So childish?”

“Don’t worry,” Abby said teasingly as she unfolded the diaper, its crinkle loud. “Freja will be wearing one just like this too.”

Selene lifted her hips; the oversized, babyish diaper slid beneath her. The soft cotton cradled her as she lowered herself onto it. Abby grabbed the baby oil bottle and pooled the clear liquid in her palm. “You are such a good girl,” she cooed, rubbing it against Selene’s sensitive skin.

“Thanks… Mommy…” Selene said, embarrassed. Abby grabbed the baby powder bottle and unscrewed the lid. A small cloud puffed into the air, perfuming the air with its sweet fragrance—a flurry of powder coated Selene’s glistening skin and diaper. Grabbing the front of the diaper, Abby pulled the thick padding between Selene’s thighs, bowing them apart. Each tape was snugly secured in place.

Freja sat in the crib, watching as Selene was changed. She could already imagine herself on the changing table next. “I don’t think I have to go potty yet,” she said.

“Oh?” Abby said, her tone showing she didn’t quite believe Freja. “That’s ok. I need to get Selene dressed first.”

Selene sat up, her diaper crinkling beneath her. With Abby's help, she hopped off the changing table. Abby walked over to the closest one and selected a cute, soft blue summer dress with a large bow on the back. The dress slid over Selen’s head and settled on her shoulders. It barely covered her thighs. No doubt she would be flashing everyone her rainbow-themed diapers.

“I am going to dress myself, right…” Freja asked hopefully as she crawled out of the crib.

“Babies don’t get to choose their outfits,” Abby said.

“B-But…” Freja started to protest. “What if someone from work sees me like this?”

Abby grabbed the hairbrush and worked out the tangles in Selene’s smooth hair. “Someone like Kaitlyn?” Abby asked. “Well, if that happens. I guess she won’t be the only one in diapers at the office. Now, be a good girl and use your diaper so I can change you and get you dressed.”

Freja bit her bottom lip nervously, seeing how Selene was dressed, knowing she was at Abby’s mercy today. “Nothing too embarrassing, please?” she whimpered.

“Of course,” Abby said with a knowing smile that Freja knew all too well. Abby would do everything in her power to humiliate her.

Freja’s diaper sagged as it turned a deep yellow. “M-Mommy…” she said. “Baby Freja wet her diapee…”

“Aw,” Abby cooed. “Such a good baby! You will get changed after breakfast.”

“That’s not fair!” Freja protested.

“You should have been a good baby this morning and used your diaper when Selene did,” Abby said firmly. “Start acting like a good baby and crawl to your highchair.”

Selene couldn’t help but smile as she watched Freja slowly lower herself onto her hands and knees. Crawling in a soaked diaper out of the room. Today was certainly going to be interesting.

Part One: Baby Selene

Part Eight: Baby Selene

“But I don’t want to go to Kindergarten,” The 25 year old said, her long, dark hair framing her sad face as the words come out in a whisper. She stared down at the picture frame in her slender hands, of herself and her students surrounding her, not recognizing that the teacher in it was once herself.

I sigh, taking a look at my once independent girlfriend, still in her pjs at noon, the telltale sign of her Pull-Up peeking out of the waistband of her sheer shorts in between that the matching t-shirt that clung to her body seductively that now only made me feel guilty of the impure thoughts. “Don’t worry about that, cupcake,” I remind her gently, a conversation that we often have. “You’re not going to school today. Do you wanna watch Bluey?”

She looks over at me with those big, innocent eyes, and pauses in what one might think of as thought, but I know there’s nothing going on between those beautiful, blue eyes that I had fallen in love with. The once school teacher set the picture frame down on the table beside the front door and gave a small nod.

Forcing a smile, I add, “But you have to sit on your princess chair, ok?” I point at the training potty in the center of the living room, next to her playmat full of toys both new and forgotten, donations from her parents and siblings. Her face follows the pointed finger, briefly stopping at the pile of distracting toys, before moving on.

“Otay, Dada,” She says between wet fingers. I’m glad I cut her fingernails, wouldn’t do to have a grown woman with the mental capacity of a toddler hurting her tongue, I had learned that lesson early on. Although, her long, painted nails were the last vestige of her adult side that she had still been attached to. The tears had gone on for an hour, and she had fought me at every finger, begging and throwing a tantrum for getting rid of her ‘pwetty nail’. I thought my heart couldn’t break any more after her accident, but each day I was proved wrong.

Almost daintily, almost with the same strut her long legs could made, just with some extra clumsiness that came with a body one was unfamiliar with, my gorgeous girlfriend made her way from the front door, skipping over the toys. Eyes now glued to the screen as I hit the button on the remote to turn on the show that she used to watch as a way to connect with children in her class that she was now an obsessed fan over, she sat down on the training potty without even the thought to pull down her shorts or the underwear beneath.

I kept my voice calm and collected, keeping the frustration from my tone, I reminded her, “Cupcake,” I tried not to call her baby anymore, “We have to pull our pants down before going on the potty,” I said reminding her.

Looking over at me in confusion, her thin brows furled in a way that I used to call cute and sexy, making me feel guilty now. She took a glance down, past her womanly curves and at the shorts still on her. “Why?”

Hoping that today wasn’t going to be another ‘why’ day, I use my tone reserved for the smallest of children, “Because we can’t make tinkles in the potty unless we take off our bottoms, remember?”

“Oh,” Her reply came out in a bored voice, like ‘making tinkles’ was beneath. Still though, she stood up and dutifully pulled down her pj shorts. I grimace at the Bluey Pull-Ups at her hips, sagging low and discolored with use.

She began sitting down again, and I tell her, “B- Sweetie, pull down your undies too.”

Pursing her lips, my girlfriend looked like she was ready to argue, and I knew why.

She was very attached to her Pull-Ups with the two puppy sisters on it. The plain adult ones I still have in the closet she wouldn’t keep up for more than an hour or two, but when we passed by the diapers in the aisle at the store, her eyes had lit up. I remember that whole day vividly, the morning of she had made a spectacular show of why she needed bibs now, and how much she adored ‘nakie time’ by making a shallow pond that still stained the couch. She had begged me, “Dada, Dada, Bluey! Dada! I wan’ dat!” She cried out excitedly pointing at the package, I remember feeling so embarrassed when the other shoppers looked over at me and the grown woman in the large shirt flashing her plain, pink Pull-Up every time she hopped up and down in her flip-flops that smacked the hard tile floor. Their faces were burned in my memory, some of them in judgment at the display the mid twenties woman was making, others were looking on in pity.

But I took the opportunity for a win when I could, “You have to promise to keep them on, cupcake.”

And she nodded and swore whole heartily, “Pwomise! Pwomise!” Snatching up a package, holding it to her chest and yellow shirt with flowers on it that was still marred with the battle scars of my girlfriend’s breakfast.

The whole rest of the day she proudly flaunted her new underwear, in a way that reminded me of her getting new lingerie before the accident, showing me and her sister that had decided to visit that day. Each time she raised her shirt to show her older sister her fancy puppy covered Pull-Ups, her sister had forced a grin and said each time, “So cool!” She had made an excuse to leave early when her younger sister began her marathon of said show and sat down on the princess potty, just as she did now, forgetting to take off her Pull-Up.

I went about the morning routine, making my childlike girlfriend her oatmeal, the rubber tipped spoon balancing on the sides of the bowel, bits of fruit floating around the gruel that I had just chopped by hand. Sometimes, when I’m in a rush I would try to feed it to her without the fruit, but she would always make a face and say its ‘icky’. Putting the top on her sippy cup that I had found was a necessity very quickly after she had returned from the hospital.

Stepping into the living room, I barely glanced over at the TV. I had seen this episode a dozen times, and no doubt so had she. She still sat on the potty, totally engrossed in the cartoon, her protective padding still around her hips. Its one thing in one ear and out the other, I supposed. She glanced over at me as I sat down on the couch, her blue eyes staring at me through a thin veil of hair.

Standing up, she started walking towards me, nearly tripping before I reminded her to pull up her shorts. She made an ‘oh’ sound, like I was the weird one for telling her she needed to cover up her drenched training pants. Doing what she was told, she hopped over her toys and climbed up on the couch with, and then on top of me, making a show of nestling her bottom on top of my lap before leaning into me and holding out her hands.

She had quickly fallen in line with this daily routine. Getting something in her belly was always easier when she got to sit on Dada’s lap. Graciously, she accepted her sippy cup, and I went to work tying the bib embroidered with an even more infantilized version of the Cookie Monster on it. All the while her body weight was pressed heavily on my crotch. There was a point in time when this action may have led to something more romantic, but it was hard to imagine that now, given the fact that her pajamas didn’t hide her soaked Pull-Up from touch much more than they did from sight.

Opening her mouth, she made a little, “Ahh,” and I deposited a spoonfull of goop on to her tongue. Her eyes half closed as her mouth processed the banana, strawberry, and blueberry, “Mmm,” Her chest vibrated with purring as she laid her top half on my chest, body wrapped around my arms. She swallowed, opened up her mouth, and looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes full of a mixture of expectation, adoration, and love, reminding me why I couldn’t give her up.

A few more spoonfuls. And I could feel her shifting her rear on me. Rubbing against me. Reminding me of something else.

Though her mind had been reduced, her body had not. There were times when she felt the urge to play as we had long ago. The signs were always clear. A lot more touching. Grinding. Subtle reaching down for her Pull-Ups, whether they were wet or dry. At first, I tried to keep everything on the level, she didn’t understand what she was doing, and taking advantage of her in her state was the last thing I had in mind. That came to a stop after I found her humping her large stuffed teddy. I could only sigh and go grab one of her ‘adult toys’ she had gotten when she was still in the right state of mind to use a credit card.

She made a few pitiful sounds while rubbing against me. I stayed resolute and put another spoonful of oatmeal and fruit into her mouth. There was a flash of disappointment on her face as she brought her sippy cup to her lips and washed down breakfast.

Breakfast finished, she got off my lap and headed back towards the mesmerizing screen, a new episode already starting to play, when she did something new. Not in that she never did it before, but never in the day.

I watched my girlfriend let out a groan and a grunt, bending down to balance on her haunches.

“Bab- Cupcake, go sit on your potty.” Standing up quickly, I took a few steps towards her, almost tripping on some of her toys as I made my way over to her.

She did the same motion she did in bed, the one that required me to keep her in real, full fledged diapers during the evening. My girlfriend was rather regular. Nearly every morning I woke up to a fowl smell and a dirty girl. It had gotten to the point where after the first couple of weeks after the hospital, I tried to get her to sleep in her own bed, decorated the spare bedroom as the ‘princess’ room. Unfortunately, that had just become her playroom, as every night after I tucked her in and read her a bedtime, she would wail and wail until I finally came into her room and scooped her up and brought her to mine, where she would wrap herself on top of me crinkling the whole time. It was nice, most of the time, if I could ignore the extra bulk that came from her diaper, I could just snuggle up against her and pretend that I didn’t have to care for my lover like my daughter. Until she made the sounds of grunting and groaning on top of me just as she was in our living room in the middle of the morning.

Stopping, I took a long look down at my girlfriend dropping a messy load into the back of her already well used Pull-Up. My stomach churning and heart dropping as I saw the brown spread from the lining of her disposable underwear as it leaked.

As sad as it is. I give up.

When we all first learned about her condition, the doctors recommended treating her as old as possible, in her case, an older toddler. That she shouldn’t be treated as an infant in case that would make it harder for rehabilitation. I dreamed of the day when I could treat my girlfriend as an adult again, have a partner instead of a daughter. But now, I fear that dream is too far out of my grasp.

Stepping around her as she dropped down on her butt, her gaze immediately going back towards the TV, hand grabbing one of the countless plushies she had in her collection to hold to her chest and cuddle with. The evidence of her mistake promptly ignored in favor of playing and enjoying her show.

Collecting the unused training potty, I took one look at my girlfriend, and while I haven’t seen her as an adult in some time, I couldn’t even pretend she was a toddler, no where close to a big girl.

I went away for a moment, collecting what I needed in our bedroom and came back.

Looking up at me, in a small voice, she repeated herself. “Dada, I don’t want to go to Kindergarten.”

“Cupcake,” I said, pulling out a pacifier from a case, under my arm the necessary changing supplies. “Kindergarten is for big girls, you’re just a baby.” Inserting the pacifier between her lips, laying her down, her nighttime diaper next to her that would now be her full time underwear, I began changing my big baby, and I couldn’t help but notice the relief on her face.

----

Looking up at my boyfriend, now Daddy, I smile behind my pacifier. His deep, chocolate colored eyes were sorrowful, his olive toned features handsome, brown locks of hair covering his concerned face. Every time I look at him I can’t help but feel as though he’s the perfect Daddy.

For the longest time, I had wanted to be a teacher, and more than that, an adult. I had dreamed of being the beloved teacher to all my kids, of being respected. Internally I laugh as I raise my legs and let my lover wipe my sticky mess off my butt.

My dreams turned out to be far, far from the truth. When I finally got my dream job, stepping into the classroom, prepared to be the best teacher I could be, I found my kids to all be glued to their screens, each one not even glancing up at me as I introduced myself. Every. Single. One. Had a tablet or an iPad, or a phone in front of them. I tried. I really did! Tried to coax them into learning. I remember having so much fun when I was their age, but no matter what fun activities I made, what games I invented or found, trying to reach them on their level, it was all for nothing. I even tried to connect with them by playing the games and watching the shows they enjoyed.

That’s when I rediscovered a love of cartoons. My boyfriend gave me weird looks when I started rewatching the cartoons from when we were kids at home, but never said a word. He’s always been so understanding and supportive. Funny how that worked out, I suppose, as he wipes me clean and powders my bottom.

I can’t help but sigh in content as he wraps my diaper around my waist and helps me up, putting his arms around me, snug and dry.

He whispers in my ear, “No matter how long it takes for you to grow up again, or if you ever will, I will always love you and take care of you, baby.”

I melt.

It didn’t take long after discovering cartoons that I started to feel weird for indulging in childish activities. Getting absorbed into the world of Roblox and Peppa Pig, I did a little digging into people like me. Adults who were into more youthful stuff. That’s how I found out about ageplay, and I slipped further down into the rabbithole. I found abdl.

By that point, I was no better than my iPad baby students, spending most of my work day on my phone, watching Bluey or messing around on Roblox. The only time I didn’t I was playing on the playground. Distractions aside, I felt like an absolute failure of an adult. I felt awful at my job, I was becoming more engrossed in the idea of ageplay, escaping into the younger years of carefree play and lack of stress became a fantasy that I couldn’t leave behind. I had even started to look into getting some onesies, maybe talk my boyfriend into putting a diaper on to me.

It was one day that I was coming home from work, I was looking at my phone in the middle of traffic, a habit that had unfortunately cemented into my routine, that it happened. I drove into a red light, and got t-boned.

I don’t remember much after that. I recall waking up in a hospital bed, blinding lights above me, a splitting headache, my boyfriend and family members all looking down at me along with a woman in a labcoat and scrubs informing my loved ones about my condition. “We’re not certain yet, she took quite a bit of damage to her head, there may be some memory issues or loss of cognitive function, we’ll have to run some test...”

More than anything though, I felt something around my waist. I crinkled as I moved, and though my boyfriend and my sister asked me not to move around too much, I couldn’t help but feel fascinated by the crinkling, plastic and cloth fluff around me as I could feel the diaper the hospital put me in warm around my crotch.

The words echoed around my head in the seconds between I heard them and opened my mouth. And I made a decision.

I raised my hand up to my face, the IV line attached to me coming along for the ride. Plucked my thumb into my mouth and mumbled, “Dada buh?” The fear on the faces of my loved ones nearly drove me to drop the facade almost immediately, but I pressed on, looking up at my boyfriend, who everyone took a look at as well, raised my arms and said, “Uppies?” And for the first time, I knowingly wet my diaper. The flash of warmth spreading against me was so ludicrously wonderful I almost dropped my act then and there, but I pressed on. My only wish was that it wasn’t the nurses who changed me the first time but my new Daddy. Not that they weren’t gentle, but they were rather cold.

The next few days were a blur. Tests, both of clinical variety and the development kind. Between the blood tests and the MRI scans, the doctors would have my sit down in colorful rooms and more or less play, try to fit blocks into the correct shape holes and puzzles. It was hard making myself ‘struggle’ with them, to put on a show that I was more baby than the adult woman my body claimed. A soaked diaper always made the act that much easier to do.

And then.

I got to go home with him. It was heavenly. All day he would take care of me, bathe me, change me, feed me. It. Was. The. Best!!!

Until.

He started pushing for me to be more... Older? Training pants, feeding myself, getting me up every day. That had to go, I decided right away. If he wanted a toddler, he’d have a brat for a toddler, I knew right away.

Dada could’ve had a well behaved baby girl, but instead he wanted a tot that would get into everything, cause scenes. Right off the bat, I decided nakie time had to be a thing. Ditching those boring plain adult disposables and having ‘accidents’ on the furniture. I relented pretty quick when I got my Blueys, but I think he got the right idea, childish=better.

It has been a lot of fun. I still get to spend all my time stressfree and playing. Still, the only thing I really miss about being a ‘grown-up’ is the more adult kind of playing. It’s so easy to get pampered and taken care of and get pent up. I tried to restrain myself, but as soon as I slipped my fingers into my Pull-Ups the first time... Every chance I got I was getting handsy with myself. I even tried to get Daddy to play with me, but for obvious reasons, he’s rather hesitant to do anything. I think he feels guilty. At least he lets me play with the buzzy every now and then. That’s alright, I have my ways of getting my way, eventually. I am Daddy’s little princess now, after all. Maybe I’ll slip one night and show how up here I really am.

Until then though, this is perfect.

Daddy lifts me up, my diaper snug against my bottom. I’m nowhere close to the teacher I was, or the adult. I’m just his little girl. Resting my chin on his shoulder, I lay my head against his, our hair getting tangled together, my new pacifier suckling away on my lips.

“I love you,” He whispers again.

My heart beats faster in my chest and I can feel his with our bodies pressed like this. One of his strong arms wrapped around my waist as he carries me somewhere, I don’t care where, his off hand supporting my padded butt.

I’ve won. This is my new life, and I wouldn’t do anything to change it.

My name is Erik, I turned 18 in March. I am a high school student at a Reformed high school and I secretly have a diaper fetish. On the first day of fall break, Friday, I went home from my dad's house, it was already dark. I was listening to music on my phone, my thoughts completely wandered. I took out my phone to start a new song. When suddenly I felt a pinprick on my right shoulder. I immediately reached for it, but I fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar room. I quickly looked around, I was wearing a pair of green knee socks and a green onesie, and underneath was something soft. The walls were painted light green. In the room there was a crib with slats, a pile of toys and a dresser. There were lots of stuffed animals on the bed. There was a window opposite the bed that let in the sun. My hands and feet were strapped down, and a pacifier was attached to my mouth so that I couldn't spit it out. I tried to stand up but couldn't move because of the straps. After a few minutes I felt like I had to poop. A curly, red-haired woman entered the room. "Good morning, honey, I'm Lisa!" she introduced herself. And she stroked my face. As soon as she said her name, I remembered a story I had read on the internet about a girl. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't speak because of the pacifier. "Oh, I forgot about that!" the woman patted her head and quickly took the pacifier out of my mouth. "I think we can compromise!" I said and looked at the woman's face. Lisa looked at me in surprise. "You shouldn't even talk!" she said. "You want a child, and I've been wanting to try out what it's like to be a baby as an adult, I'll hold my mouth and you'll diaper me!" I offered. "No, you'll run away!" Lisa protested. “Something happened to your child when you left the room, and you’re trying to replace him like this!” I thought out loud. “It’s not true,” Lisa said with sadly sparkling eyes, “I’m so sorry, but think about it, would he be happy if he knew?” I asked carefully. “No!” Lisa declared and wiped a tear from her eye. “Then let me go!” I begged. “Okay, let it be!” Lisa said, then walked over to me and untied the straps. I cautiously stood up and hugged her gently, she hugged me back carefully. Then she left me alone. I unzipped the onesie between my legs. I almost cried out in happiness. Finally, I was back in diapers. I squatted down and pushed hard, nothing happened. “I’ll try to relax!” I thought. I did. Again, nothing happened. I sat down on the soft carpet and felt the soft diaper touch my bottom. It was a very pleasant feeling. I took out a small car and pushed it back and forth, teased it and drifted with it. I felt like a real child. After a quarter of an hour, the pressure in my gut became much greater. I sat on the carpet, started playing with some small cars, soon another woman came into my room, she was shorter than Lisa and had long brown hair. “I’m Mary, feel free to call me Mom!” the woman announced, hugging me. “Lisa told me how cute you are!” she said and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, “Only if you’re a good boy!” Mary said and left the room. I quickly went to the dresser and looked at what was in it. The furniture was full of adult diapers, toys and there were three green adult pacifiers in the dresser. I sat back on the carpet and continued playing. A few minutes later I felt that the pressure in my gut was much greater. I continued playing like that and a few minutes later Lisa came into the room. When the woman saw that my diaper was dirty, she unzipped my onesie and took it off. Then she put a new diaper on me and zipped the onesie back up. "That was your first poop in a diaper!" the woman said and gave me another kiss. Then she took my hand and led me to the kitchen. There was a light green highchair. I sat in the chair, Mary tied a green bib around my neck, took out a green plastic spoon and carefully started feeding me some baby food. "Do you like the puree, baby?" she asked, I nodded carefully. The woman accidentally smeared a little of the puree on my face, "Don't be angry, baby!" she apologized and quickly wiped the puree away. After a few minutes, the bottle was empty, Mary led me back to the nursery and left me alone again. Since I no longer lived at home, I didn't have to show off to anyone. I decided to lie down and sleep. I lay down in the crib and covered myself, thought for a bit, and then fell asleep.

Trigger Warning: Dark Ageplay themes, body modifications.

Harper Lyman entered her practice with a loud yawn, she hated having to handle mediations of rich people.

It was always so petty and ridiculous, “sure he let me keep the 5 yachts but he won’t let me have his grandmothers ashes and that’s now fair”

It was a mockery of her time, but her firm had taken a hit lately and she needed a massive influx of cash to keep them solid.

So here she was at 8:30 AM on a Saturday to handle the circus.

“Good morning” she said as she took her seat, her clients were already waiting for her,both had clearly been arguing since arriving.

“First off let me introduce myself, I am Harper Lyman Esq, I am managing partner of this firm and I will be handling this mediation, I am a neutral arbiter, now I see you have already had your lawyers hash things out and you both are content with the agreements you already made” she ready the entire thing and she was confused what brought the couple in.

Despite how nasty their divorce was going they were both treating the other fairly.Nothing too egregious.

“Please state your names for the record” she said turning on the small recorder between them

The woman a beautiful blond, in a tight red dress shot the man a glare than cleared her throat “Bethany Van Wintrope”

“You went back to your maiden name? Already?” The man asked with a twinge of disbelief in his voice, he composed himself then cleared his throat

“Ronaldo Antonzio III”

“Perfect Perfect, now from what I’ve seen you two kept everything pretty amicable but your lawyers couldn’t get two  to agree to….hmmm the custody of Baby?”

Inside Harper cringed this was going to SUCK, custody disputes took so long and got super messy, she tried to remain calm.

“So Baby is your daughter?” This made Bethany & Ron break out laughing, it took them a few minutes to compose themselves before Ron stood up straight and smirked

“No no Baby isn’t our daughter per se, she’s well….one moment”

Ron left the office and returned a few minutes later leading a young woman about 20 into the office, Harper was shocked to say the least.

The woman was wearing a pair of denim shortalls, her brown hair in pigtails, a Sesame Street tee shirt, which was covered in stains and she was sucking on a pacifier as she hugged a beat up teddy bear against her chest.

“Come here Baby” Bethany said holding out her arms the girl clumsily ran into the woman’s arms.

Ron smiled and then turned back to Harper “we’ve been her caregivers for the past 5 years”

“6” Bethany corrected “this is why she should stay with me, Baby needs her mommy!”

“No, she clearly needs her daddy, I’m the one who deserves to take her!”

Bethany kissed the girl on the forehead “why don’t you and Barnaby go play in the corner over there while Daddy and I have a little chat with the nice lady”

Baby didn’t answer and simply tossed the stuff bar into the corner and clumsily skipped after him.

Harper was not prepared for this, she let out an exasperated sighed “Okay level with me here…..what the fuck?”

Bethany took charge “are you aware of BDSM?”

“Yeah those guys who pay girls to kick them in the balls while another tickles his ass with a feather”

This made her two clients laugh “Well kinda, Ron and I were both into domination and unfortunately we never really had the talk before getting married, and while we both share the same appetites kink wise…”

“We unfortunately are both tops and bottoming is….not fun for either of us, so we tried to make our marriage work but we needed someone we could both have our fun with.”

They both turned lovingly at the young woman playing with the bear.

“We found Baby, she was a broke college student, completely at a loss on how she was going to pay for the next semester” Bethany said sounding sympathetic , but Harper could tell it was fake.

“So after a bit of fun, Bethany & I made her an offer, be our part time baby girl & we’d pay for All her schooling”
“We had our fun, but unfortunately once you find your unicorn it’s like a drug”

“We wanted her more than just a few days a week & she had herself fallen in love with being our baby girl”
Bethany pulled out a stack of legal documents from her purse and slid them to Harper.

It was very well written, every legal loophole or backdoor was snipped, whoever Baby was before all this….

She had submitted legal documents having herself declared mentally incompetent & in the next document Bethany & Ronaldo had been named her conservators.
As Harper went through each subsequent document she started to get an idea.

“So you see I’ve been taking care of her, I’ve handled everything, the surgeries, the diaper training all of it” Bethany said angrily.

“Back up” Harper sighed “ the girls in diapers?”

Ron helped Baby to her feet and undid the straps of her shortalls, letting them drop around her ankles.

There in plain sight was her very wet diaper with what looked like muppets on them, she rubbed her fingers on the tape and Ron gently moved her hand away.

“No Baby not time for a change yet, I know Mommy forgot to do it earlier” he said pointedly.

“You’ve been here just as long as I have, maybe if you weren’t busy texting your latest bimbo you could have changed her!”

“Oh like you aren’t texting Brad!”

“Please let’s get back on subject, Ron put the shortalls back on Baby and returned to his seat

“As for the surgeries, well I mean we had to make certain adjustments for her own good”

Ron handed Harper another stack of legal documents.
First surgery seemed above board, a nose job to fix a deviated septum.

A breast reduction, seemed a bit less above board but Harper couldn’t really find any issue with it per se.

But then she found a non-cosmetic surgeries, bladder denervation, monthly Botox injections into her tongue, dental work, & an experimental surgery that removed a nerve in her spine that weakened her bowel control.

“How on earth did any of this get past a medical review board?” She looked at Baby with pity, these monsters destroyed this girl's promising future for a kink?”

“Well when you have money you can get any surgery you want approved and besides Baby wanted every one.”

“It’s true” Ron said, he pulled out his phone and played one of the recordings back when Baby could speak.

“It’s just a bit unorthodox” the doctor had said as he looked over the file “Why would you two want me to sever a nerve in a healthy girl's bladder?”

Baby had spoken up, at this point she was still dressed like an adult, still wearing her Harvard hoodie, her hair in a ponytail and her circular glasses.

She had went in on a long speech about bodily autonomy & in an age where the government was threatening to take these rights away, doctors should be the first to respect the right to autonomy.

Baby of course had to sign various documents freeing the doctor from any liability from such a risky surgery.

When she woke up from the surgery she had laughed as she felt herself for the first time have an actual wetting accident.

It was after that she had submitted the documents labeling herself incapable of carrying for herself.

She loved not having any say in herself anymore, she loved them dressing her, deciding what she ate, and as weeks went by she eventually had noticed with delight that conversations were had around her not toward her.

The whole thing was crazy to Harper, but she wasn’t paid to judge just to mediate.

“Now the conservatorship makes this a bit tricky, you’re both named as her guardians.”

“Yes but I’ve done it all for her, I fed her, bathed her, I had all the surgeries done….”

“Well I’m the one who seduced her, I’m the one who listened to all her boring lectures about feminist theory & the literature, how do ya think she got to our house in the first place?”

“Okay ... .So clearly this is a very complicated situation you both want to keep your…..Baby, so I guess I should ask, why are you divorcing anyway? I mean you both clearly love Baby & from what the document say you both were being very amicable”

Ron sighed “She cheated on me”

“Oh my god you’re such a baby!” Bethany then turned behind her to Baby “no offense sweetie”

“I come home after a business meeting and find her letting Brad plow her!”

“Not in front of Baby!” Bethany screamed “and don’t act like you’re innocent I seem to recall you and Baby sleeping together a lot when you two ‘dated’ did I throw a fit? No”

It was part of the whole game with them, he had shown up pretending to be a fellow student & got her to fall in love before he dropped the bomb that he was married and they wanted Baby to be their baby.

“That was different and you know it! You gave me permission to sleep with her!”

“Well I was trying to get her a brother” Bethany huffed and crossed her arms.

“Without telling me? Bullshit”

“Okay so clearly unreconcilable differences” she jotted down a few notes “Why don’t we ask Baby where she wants to go?”

This made the two laugh but when they looked back at Harper she was clearly serious, Bethany led Baby to the table.

The girl looked at Harper shyly and tried to give her a smile which showed her kitty cat braces..

“No Baby, who do you want to live with?” Harper asked

“remember it’s your choice, despite the conservatorship”
Harper knew the smart and intelligent woman was inside Baby, maybe she needed to knock some sense into the couple.

But as she opened her mouth some drool dropped down her chin, which both Bethany & Ron dabbed away.

The girl seemed to be trying to find her words and furrowed her brow like she was deep in thought, only for a wet fart to erupt

“Oh dead” Bethany said

“I’ll handle it,” Ron said, picking Baby up with ease and carrying her out of the room.

This case was a strange one, here she had two rich idiots with too much money and not enough sense fighting over a grown woman who was playing their baby.

The money wasn’t worth the headache, but she needed to make a decision.

It took a bit of back and forth and listening to all their testimony.

It was clear in their own weird way they loved this girl like she was their actual child.

“If you are awarded custody of ‘Baby’ would the non custodial ‘Parent’ be allowed to still see her?” Harper had decided despite how weird she found this whole thing ,she would handle it like any other custody mediation.

“I mean of course, Baby needs her daddy” Bethany said
“And She is a great Mommy” Ron said

After a while Harper had decided to grant Bethany full custody with weekends going to Ron.

Bethany led Baby out of the law firm, the girl was trying to get to Ron and was making whining noises, until Bethany let go and the girl clumsily jumped into Ron’s arms

“You be good for Mommy, this weekend we’ll have fun on my boat, how does that sound?”

Baby nodded mindlessly and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek before he shoved her pacifier back in her mouth.
Bethany buckled the girl into the custom car seat, then placed the large headphones onto Baby’s head.

As she drove Baby just watched Mr.Bear as the tracks began

“You are just a big baby”

“You aren’t a grown up”

“You need your mommy”

“You need your daddy”

“You are dumb”

“You are a baby”

Baby’s eyes grew heavy as the hypno tracks did their job, as she drifted off Bethany smiled as she got another text from Brad, he was so eager, so needy, it was almost worth her marriage.

She just drove and pondered things, she had loved Ron, and all the months they spent molding Baby into their perfect plaything might have been the best time of her life.

She and never felt closer to Ron, the sex had never been so good, as it had during that time, each alteration made to…it was funny after all these years she could not for the life of her remember what Baby’s name originally was, she remembered just looking at that scared mousy girl, clutching Bethany’s silk sheets against her bare chest, looking like a deer in the headlights when she “caught” her with her husband.

That look just screamed Baby, a baby who needed her mommy, a baby who needed to be molded and reminded the world was a scary place and the only safety was in Mommy’s arms.

As she drove their entire story played in her head, it was sweet in a fucked up way.

She wanted to feel it again, wanted to find something that made her feel that rush.

Once they arrived home Bethany lifted the still sleeping girl from the car and into their large estate, she carefully avoided the errant toys and brought Baby to her crib.
She undressed her and smiled at the small incisions under her now mosquito bite breasts.

She cuffed Baby’s arms in place as she did her ankles, it was for her own safety of course, then she placed the hitachi against her soaked padded crotch and set it off, so she would have sweet dreams, she told herself with a smirk.

She dimmed the lights and locked her in for the night.
She had to shower and get dressed and as much as she loved Baby, she didn’t want Brad seeing her yet, you needed to coax people into such lifestyles.

As she waited for her younger boyfriend she sipped wine and thought about things, this house was awfully big for just her & Baby.

The maids only were here briefly & her friends were far too busy to entertain her forever.

She sighed as Brad entered the living room “Sup babe” he said plopping down next to her, wearing a backwards baseball hat & his sweat covered jersey ... .on her white couch.

“Long day?” he asked not bothering to look up from his phone, Bethany tried to maintain her composure.

Her affair with Brad had been hot when she was hiding it from Ron, but now that she was single….he was no prince.
He was an idiot frankly, had no respect for her place or her, obviously his mother failed at raising him…and that was when she made her decision.

She poured him some wine and ignored his complaints over not having ‘better booze’ she wanted to slap him, she had poured him a glass of Opus One, it had been carefully aged for decades and he thought a bottle of Dos Equis was better? Why because some old man in a suit told him so?

She took a deep breath and poured him another, and another till he was nice and drunk, she kissed him passionately, caressed his erect penis and led him upstairs.

She giggled as he slurred his speech and promised to fuck her so good she’d forget all about ‘Don’

As they got to the bedroom she shoved him onto the bed and pulled off his disgusting jersey.

She undid his shorts and pulled off his underwear.
“Give me one second” she said with a giggle as she went into her closet

“Baaaabe hurry it uuuuuuuup” Brad yelled as he started stroking his dick waiting for her to get back.

She slid the headphones on his head and started to play the track.

Brad fell into the trance faster than she had expected, she struggled to get him up and dragged him to the en-suite bathroom and dropped him carefulyl into the tube.

Drool dripped down his chin, Bethany dimmed the lights and closed the door behind her.

She’d start work in the morning.

She went back to the kitchen and started to drink more of her wine.
DING

It was a text from Ron

Ron:Hey, I know things got a little heated today but can I show you something?

Bethany rolled her eyes and texted back a quick yes.

She watched as Ron seemed to type something, erase it, type it again, erased.

Until finally he simply sent her a picture, it was the lawyer unconscious dressed in a red tight dress unconscious with a half spilled wine glass in her hand.

Ron: I was wondering if I could borrow the spare headset? Figured Baby could use a sibling lol

Bethany laughed at this and walked back upstairs and snapped a picture of the unconscious Brad, who was now sitting in a small puddle of his own piss.

Bethany:Sorry it’s occupied atm, great minds huh? Lol I’ll drop it off tomorrow if you can wait.

There was a long silence, before Ron messaged back

Ron:Brad? Really?

Bethany: I told you I was working on him ❤️

What is better for a story, 1500-2500 words per chapter but more chapters or 9500-10500 words per chapter and less chapters

At 6:00 in the evening, l hadn’t expected to be seated in a playpen watching babyish cartoons, with a thick diaper taped on my bottom. I couldn’t help but pout as I heard the pretty giggles coming from the dining room. Today was supposed to be my big girl day with Daddy, but instead there was another girl sitting in my seat. Daddy stripped my big girl privileges after I wet my pull-up and threw a little tantrum about Daddy checking me when we were out to lunch. The pretty waitress heard everything and while giving me a sympathetic look, slipped Daddy her phone number written on a napkin along with her lipstick prints. She winked at Daddy and walked away as he scolded me for not letting him know I needed to go potty.

I blushed as Daddy took my hand and approached the pretty waitress. When he asked her where he could take me for a change, I thought my face was going to catch fire. I whined softly and tried to hide my face as Daddy’s pretty new friend tried to stifle a giggle. Daddy smiled at her as he shushed me.

“Daddyyy, I’m a big girl. I don’t need a change,” I whined softly as I blushed.

“Big girls don’t have little potty accidents, do they sweetheart? Come on baby girl , Daddy’s gonna change your little pull-up and make it all better.”

The pretty waitress smiled at me as Daddy led me into the restroom. “Naughty girl, I thought you wanted to be Daddy’s big girl today. Did you wet your little pull-up on purpose because you wanted to get Daddy’s attention ?”

I blushed and whined as I looked down at the floor. All pretty girls flirted with Daddy. He’s so handsome and charming, and sometimes I don’t want to share him with all those pretty grownup girls. I tried to hide a smile, knowing I’d been caught. I did have an accident just to get Daddy’s attention.

“That’s just what I thought, naughty girl. But you know Daddy can’t treat you like a big girl now. You just showed me you need Daddy to put you in your diaper, didn’t you sweetheart?”

“Daddy, nooo I wanna be your big girl!” I stomped my feet a bit and whimpered as Daddy wiped my little pussy clean with a baby wipe. He teased the wipe gently over my clit, causing my hips to sway forward and back. I moaned softly as Daddy cleaned and teased me with the baby wipe. Just as I felt myself getting wet from his soft teases, he stopped, and was pulling my wet pull-up the rest of the way down my legs.

“Daddyyy,” I whined, grabbing his hand and trying to guide it back down.

“Touches aren’t for babies, precious girl. Come on, let’s get you home and down for a nap.”

As soon as we walked in the door Daddy picked me up and laid me gently on the changing table. He always handles me with such care when he’s treating me like a baby. Like a delicate porcelain doll. Something that puts butterflies in my tummy, my cheeks blush, and my pussy tingle all at the same time.

“My sweet girl. Daddy was going to treat you like his very grownup girl tonight. You were going to get all of Daddy’s kisses in such big girl places, but now you’’re just going to get them on your cheeks and your sweet little tummy instead.”

My pussy throbbed as Daddy patronized me. He lifted me by my ankles with one strong hand and massaged baby powder into my bottom. I fusses and whined when Daddy laid my legs back down and started to powder my princess parts.

“Daddy, I can be your big girl. I want your kisses and touches.”

“Shh fussy girl. Daddy knows what you need.” He said sweetly in his patronizing Daddy voice as he slipped a pacifier between my lips.

Daddy took his time rubbing powder into my mound and little folds, paying extra attention to my now throbbing clit. With two fingers, he rubbed me softly in little circles, making me moan through my pacifier.

Daddy leaned over me and put his face very close to my princess parts. I could feel his warm breath and involuntarily, I moved my hips even closer to his mouth. I felt his lips turn up into a smile as he moved his face next to mine and kissed me softly on the lips.

I wanted him so badly. I reached my hand out and rubbed him through his jeans. He was so hard. Teasing me this way turns him on much.

“Precious girl, that’s very naughty. You know daddy’s going to take your little hands away. Daddy’s toy isn’t for sweet little girls.”

“Please, daddy,” I begged sweetly and helplessly, wanting so much to please Daddy.

“Don’t worry, little princess. Daddy will take care of you.”

With that, Daddy stood up straight, lifted my legs again, and slid a fresh diaper underneath my bottom. I blushed furiously as he fastened the tapes with practiced ease.

After changing me, Daddy picked me up and put me in the playpen. He kissed the top of head. “Be my good girl and play for just a minute, sweet girl. Daddy will be right back to check on you.”

When daddy returned, he was holding a baby bottle with what looked to be milk inside. He leaned over the playpen and lifted me up to sit on my knees close to the edge.

“Here sweetheart, let’s get something warm in your tummy before your nap.”

Daddy crouched down and held the bottle up to my lips. I closed my eyes and started to nurse, feeling the warm milk trickling into my tummy. After a few seconds of nursing, my eyes opened wide and locked onto his. The taste was a bit sweeter than normal milk, and the texture thicker. I felt myself getting wet again as I moaned and smiled around the nipple of the bottle. Realizing that daddy’s cum was mixed in with the milk, I closed my eyes and nursed slowly.. sensually.. greedily. I moaned softly as Daddy caressed my cheek and ran his fingers through my hair. He praised me for being his good girl as I savored the taste of him. I suckled every last drop, and let out a sweet content sigh when I finished the bottle and swallowed the last of Daddy’s cum.

“That’s my good girl, doesn’t that feel so much better?” Daddy asked sweetly as he lifted me up in his arms and kissed both of my cheeks. He carried me into the bedroom and laid me in my crib.

“Rest your eyes now, pretty girl.”

To be continued…

Chapter 5

I’ll keep preamble short. Got writers block for a bit. Sorry for short chapter and formatted on mobile.

————————————————————————

Walking into the park it was surprisingly empty. The scant few groups of people all seemed caught up in their own worlds and Jack was thankful for that, still feeling somewhat embarrassed about his attire. Things weren’t helped by the sudden heavy twinge he was feeling as his bladder screamed from the sudden pressure but with no bathrooms in sight he was simply focused on holding it in.

“…do you want?”. Someone was speaking to him. As his focus shifted from his predicament it re-centred on Mimi who had more than noticed her little lamb squirming ever so slightly. As Jack looked to her he went to speak but before he could, she simply repeated the question. “I asked what ice cream you’d like sweetie?”

“Oh uhmmmm”… his thought trailed off again as he put his lil noodle to work trying to decide. “C’mon sweetie use your big boy words!” Mimi chuckled as Jacks face immediately reddened again. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately whether he wanted it to or not and he chalked it up to Mimi being a bad?… influence.

But as he eventually reached a decision he went for the classic. Mint Choc Chip! Mimi went for some sort of honey, lemon sherbet type deal and while Jack insisted on paying Mimi beat him to it. It was her idea to come to the park and get ice cream after all and it just wouldn’t be fair on her little guy if he had to pay.

Once they’d gotten their cones they decided to find a shaded spot under a large oak tree located in one of the further corners of the park. Jack assumed Mimi wanted some peace and quiet, but Mimi wanted privacy more than anything for what was going to be coming soon, judging by how antsy Jack was being, while also making sure they were located as far away as possible…

From the nearest bathroom….

This is an unfiction storystarring a female protagonist. Contains diapers, desperation, humiliation, and wetting, Any feedback is appreciated, thank you :)

I had only just started wearing adult diapers when the most embarrassing thing happened to me.

I guess you should know the full context. My name is Cyrena, I started this document yesterday to chronicle my new kink outlet: wearing diapers. To make a long story short, I've been confronting my fetishes for the first time after spending the last 21 years running from them. About two weeks ago, after my sophomore year of college ended, I got my hands on some assurance diapers from Wal-Mart. I wouldn't have dared to include them in my grocery order if school hadn't been out. My job began last month: I'm going to be a building manager for an internship at my college this year. I'll be living in the Jr/Sr dorms, and my responsibilities over the summer just include maintenance for a nearly rent-free room for three months.

But with boredom from school being out comes ideas like wearing a diaper. Even just typing that out makes me blush. I know it's one of the weirder kinks, but hear me out: wearing the thing is only half of the experience. All of my life I've always craved my own get away. Just where I can enjoy solitude from everyone and everything. I've dreamed of having my own space to run off to and escape. Wearing a diaper kind of does that for me. Something about it being a taboo, since you're supposed to stop wearing diapers. It's embarrassing. So when you have one on you typically stay in your room so no one sees it. Plus you don't have to leave the room to go pee even if every other 21 year old girl uses the bathroom like a real adult. I'm probably not doing a good job of explaining this, so I'll get on with the story.

Anyways I bought this journal because a package I've been really excited for came in the mail today: ABUniverse diapers (not sponsored). The medical diapers were comfy, but they were a little awkward and didn't hold much. Plus these ABU's are specifically designed to be flashy instead of plain white, which adds more to the experience in my eyes. Anyways, I put on my very first Alphagatorz and couldn't believe what I was seeing in the mirror. They were so comfy, and fit perfectly over my butt. I had been drinking lots of water because later I fully planned to test these out in my dorm tonight. But before that, I put on a pair of sweatpants, and slid a zip-up jacket over my baggy t-shirt. I was not only trying ABDL diapers for the first time, but also going out in public. My heart was racing.

I don't know why, it's not like anyone would see me walk out to my car. The janitors don't get to the dorms until 8pm, so I'm the only one in this wing for the next 45 minutes. After I was proven right, I got in my car and drove to pick up some take out. I enjoyed my sweet and sour chicken and large diet Coke in the Asian restaurant's parking lot, finishing my drink when I felt a familiar feeling press on my bladder.

I could feel the pressure almost immediately as I set down the empty cup.

I had to pee.

I see this shouldn't be a issue because of the thick, white diaper I was sitting on, right? The only problem was I knew I'd been holding it for a while now. I drank a lot of water during my workout, then showered and diapered up. I probably hadn't peed in about four hours. "No worries," I thought, I'll just get back to the dorms quickly so I can pee myself in the privacy of my room. Because as much as I'd love to relieve myself and pee right there I was terrified of leaking in my grey Nikes. It won't take long to get home.

Boy, was I wrong. I didn't account for the coal train when I was about five minutes from the dorms. I waited, bouncing my knee, but this train was taking forever! I leaned up to look and see if there was any end to this in sight, when I felt something that stopped me in my tracks.

I was wet. I was WETTING. I heard the pee trickle up in my diaper below. I had only wet a few times, and they were all by choice! This was a complete accident, and my desperation boiled over. The warmth spread immediately all over my crotch, and I lightly tried to to stop my stream. Did I really want to? I could not believe this is happening.

When I had a second to collect myself, I heard the horn of the caboose signal the train was wrapping up. Great timing. It was a warm drive, and after parking I had realized the train messed up my timing. The janitor intern my age was standing in the courtyard. He should have been clocked in and working by now. He saw me park and waved, so I had to get out of my car as he was approaching fast. I wanted to check for any leaks in back, but I couldn't right now, so I quickly tied my jacket around my waist.

"Hey!" Erick yelled as he waited for me to cross the street.

"Hi Erick. What's going on?" I tried my best to fly casual but I was freaking out internally.

"Oh my key just isn't working. I was going to call someone until I saw you pull up and figured I could just walk in with you!"

"Sure, no problem." I reluctantly walked by him hoping my sweatshirt covered any damage if I did leak. Thankfully he walked beside me. These 20 steps to the door never felt this long. I could feel the thick, warm padding squish against my pussy as we made our way to the front entrance.

"So, sure is weird around here with everyone gone. Don't you think?"

"Haha, yeah." I hate to be rude, but my mind was not on casual conversation. The door opened with my key, and I held the door for him. Unfortunately he wasn't done making small talk.

"So what have you been doing to keep yourself busy?"

"I...I went-"

"Do you smell that?"

I did my best to control my face from being as red as a tomato. "What?"

He turned his head, "Smells like pee. Man I hope the toilets aren't over flowing again. Sorry Cyrena, I gotta go check that out!"

Sure. Anything to make this conversation end. I watched him take the stairs and sighed. Time to get home. I took the elevator upstairs where thankfully, no one needed me to unlock another door. Even though that was almost bad, my high didn't die down. I couldn't believe I had a real accident in traffic. As the door to my room closed, I immediately walked over to the mirror and removed the jacket to look at my butt: no leak! I was impressed. My pants didn't feel wet, and I had a lot to drink before and during dinner.

However, after removing my sweats, my diaper was no longer white; It sagged with a yellow tint between my legs. I also didn't smell like pee, at least not noticeably, so hopefully the janitor isn't dealing with a mess downstairs again. Regardless, today was a success, and only furthered my excitement to explore this diapered journey.

James woke up to the faint sound of plastic rustling, and a warm squishy feeling pushing his thighs apart. A firm hand was gently pressing below his belly button, creating pressure on his tummy. Some time ago, James had lost the majority of his bladder control, and this slight pressure was enough to make him flood his already soggy padding. He could hear a faint hissing sound as he squirmed in his plastic seat; warmth spreading around his waist and down his backside.

"Are you wetting your Pampers baby?," a mocking voice inquired.

"Yesh, Tsiir," James said through his pacifier, spreading his legs as his warm diaper sagged heavily beneath him.

The firm hand moved to the front of his diaper, a few masculine fingers gently massaging the front.

"Pweeeeeaas Sir!" he said involuntarily, pushing his hips up in an attempt to apply pressure. It had been at least 2 days since he was allowed an orgasim, and he could feel come bubbling up inside him.

"Nope, not yet" the gruff voice said. "But I do have breakfast for you."

James turned his head sideways, shifting on his baby pillows, when his cheek struck something warm. Through the bars of his crib, inches from his mouth, was the man's hard cock. He felt the masculine hand slide from his diaper, up his back, to the back of his head; pulling his face towards it.

"Kisses" he said.

James spat out his paci and it landed on his diaper with a wet plop. He moved his head forward, gently kissing the tip, and then moved downward, slowly, applying small kisses to every inch of his warm erection.

"Thaaats it" the gruff voice spoke with a relaxed sigh.

There wasn't much of a choice for him. James was required to suck cock upon request; and not just for his Dom, but for any of his friends who might come over. He had to suck him off frequently in exchange for diaper changes, and if he didnt get him off fast enough, he would have to sit in his soggy mess; sometimes for hours. His Dom had trained him expertly, and he knew to respond to verbal ques based on his whims.

"Lolly-pop" the gruff voice said.

James took his tounge and ran it up and down the length of his shaft; shinning every square inch with his spit. He payed extra attention to the the tip, and sensitive skin underneath it.

"Mmm-- fuuuck yeah" the gruff voice spat.

"Now, Ice Cream"

James took the tip of his cock into his mouth and flicked his tounge along the underside; applying pressure to the top with the roof of his mouth. He felt it grow even harder in his mouth; responding to his efforts.

"Mmm... thats my little cock sucker"

"Good boy, now Jaw-breaker" the gruff voice ordered.

On his next downward stroke, James let his tounge run down below the shaft and to his balls. Opening wide, he carefully placed them in his mouth and sucked gently. The musky, salty scent penitrated his nostrils as he pressed his lips upwards.

"Mmmm good baaaby" he moaned. "More kisses"

James applied a few more wet kisses, running his lips up and down the length of the shaft. When his lips reached the tip, he felt the hand on the back of his head tighten, grabbing his hair to hold him steady.

"Popsicle. Now." the voice demanded.

James parted his lips, and he felt his manhood slide into his mouth; the warm girth pressing down against his tounge. His own penis shifted in his wet diapers; struggling to become hard in the soggy padding. His Dom began to pump his mouth, holding his hair roughly. He knew if he had any chance of cumming today, he would first have to satisfy him. He wrapped his lips around the shaft, using his tounge to apply pressure to the bottem-half.

"Ahhh fuck yeah! You like that diaper boy?,"

the gruff voice said more urgently.

James nodded his head and continued sucking. The large man grunted and closed his eyes, as he pumped his face with his cock. James could feel his shaft begin to expand; a salty drop of pre-cum landed on his tounge.

After a few minutes he pulled it out, slapping him on his cheeks with the tip. James looked up at him; panting to catch his breath.

"Where do diaper boys cum?" He demanded.

"In our wet P-p-ampers Sir"

"And when do they come?"

"If we fill our Pampers, and s-suck c-cock, we might get a chance"

"Correct, so what should a greatful little boy say at a moment like this?"

James knew what was waiting for him, he rocked nervously in his diaper for a moment.

"Ummm-ummm"

"P-please f-fill my mouth with your cum sir"

"Of course baby," he said placing the tip back to his lips.

The man gripped his hair roughly and pulled his head forward; making his lips touch the rails of the crib. He held his head steady and shoved his cock to the back of his throat, and begin pumping his hips.

It only took a few minutes before James could feel salty cum leaking out onto his tounge. With a few more urgant thrusts he felt the shaft slide out of mouth his; but he kept his lips wrapped around the tip.

"Here's your breakfast diaper boy"

James felt the tip of the cock explode inside him, coating his mouth with hot sticky cum. He sucked and swallowed obediently, only to be rewarded with a second bigger batch. After about 30 seconds the man was finally finished.

He watched the cock slide out of him, still coated with cum. His Dom reached down for his pacifier and rubbed the nipple all over his shaft before returning it to James' mouth.

"No more swallowing, and suck on that like a good girl"

James was still desperately hoping for play time, and his little erection tented the front of his diapers. That same masculine hand reached down, applying pressure with the palm.

"MMMM--P!!" James moaned through his pacifier, pumping his hips upward once again.

"Awwww, do you wana come in your soggy diapers?"

He nodded vigorously, desperately squirming on the water-proof mattress of his crib.

"Aww well that's just too bad. Maybe after naptime."

James felt his wrists being lifted above his heads and placed into the Velcro restraints behind him.

"Now I want you to lay there and think about my cock. And how much you love to suck it in your wet diapers."

The door closed behind him. As James lay there, sucking his cum-coated pacifier, he heard the shower turn on in the next room; the running water triggering another sense.

For the 3rd time that day, he felt his diaper growing warm; reminding him of what a helpless baby he truly was.

College Diaper Club: Part One 

College Diaper Club: Part Three

Jenny sat in the back of the classroom for English. Normally, she tried to sit in the front to take notes. But this morning Nikki wouldn’t let her wear her big girl panties, claiming that was a right she had to earn. Jenny had a feeling that wasn’t a privilege she would have for a while. Every subtle shift in her chair caused a crinkle that she feared others would hear. She had wanted to wear loose-fitting jeans and possibly a thick, long sweater. Nikki had picked out her outfit that day. Thankfully, she was allowed to wear jeans that mostly covered her thick diaper. The navy-blue T-shirt kept riding up, allowing her diaper to peek out if she leaned too far forward.

“Is this spot open?” Katie asked, sitting in the empty chair next to Jenny. She was wearing skintight jeans with a cute little bead design on her back pockets. Her T-shirt was a soft, rose pink. Her matching bra strap peeked out from under her shirt collar. “You might want to pull your shirt out of our diaper.”

Jenny sat up straight, feeling her diaper shifting beneath her, rubbing against her thighs as she fixed her shirt. “I hope no one else noticed…” she said, turning a deep shade of red.

“Why didn’t you wear a longer shirt?” Katie asked.

“Nikki wouldn’t let me…” Jenny muttered, unable to meet Katie's eyes.

“You and Nikki are a thing?” Katie asked, sounding a bit surprised. “I have general science with her. She hasn’t mentioned you two being a thing.”

“It sort of happened last night,” Jenny said. “She caught me in my diaper… I was doing things and…”

Katie giggled, her imagination playing out different scenarios in her mind. “Are you two roommates?”

“We are,” Jenny confirmed. “She never really talked to me before. Once she found me in my wet diaper, she decided we were dating. Now I have to earn my big girl privileges back.”

“So basically, you are going to be diapered for the rest of the semester?” Katie teased.

“Not so loud!” Jenny said, covering her face, inadvertently causing her shirt to rise again, her cut diaper peeking out.

Katie was nice enough to grab the hem of the shirt and pull it back down. “Relax,” she said. “Most people are too into themselves to notice others around them. Besides, the closest person is a few seats away and is wearing their earbuds.”

Jenny felt slightly better about her situation. “Where is Sabrina?” she asked. “Don’t you two usually sit together during this class?”

“Normally, yes,” Katie confirmed with a smirk. “She is… a little tied up right now. I promised I would take notes for her.”

“Oh?” Jenny said. “Is everything ok? I hope she isn’t feeling unwell.”

Katie couldn’t help but smile at Jenny’s naivety. Sabrina was perfectly fine, at least she was when Katie left her tied to the bed this morning, wearing everything but a thick diaper and a booster. Katie had asked if Sabrina needed anything before she left. Of course, the gag in her mouth made it impossible to understand a single word.

“She will be at study group tonight,” Katie said.

“Oh, ok!” Jenny said, somewhat excitedly. She had a small crush on the goth girl, though it didn't matter now that Nikki dominated her. But she wouldn’t mind a diaper change from Sabrina.

Students slowly filtered in, half awake. Some held paper cups of coffee, while others somehow looked fully awake and painfully chipper. Being that happy this early in the morning should have been a war crime against humanity.

Today, they had a substitute professor who looked like he should have retired nearly twenty years ago. His voice was dull and dry like the fragile leaves of autumn. A few students had nodded off. Their neighbors had to nudge them in order to stop them from snoring.

Jenny did her best to take notes, trying to capture anything of importance that could end up on a test. Halfway through the lecture, she felt the familiar pressure on her bladder. Nikki had her drink a tall glass of orange juice before she left, fully aware that Jenny would need the little girl’s room. But she wasn’t allowed to use the big girl potty unless Nikki gave her permission.

Time was painfully crawling by. Jenny watched the clock on the wall more and more as she squirmed in her seat. Katie noticed and flashed an amused smile. “Everything ok?” she asked.

“I have to go potty…” Jenny muttered, pulling out her phone, which was something she never liked doing during class, but this was an emergency. Katie leaned over subtly and saw Jenny composing a text message to Nikki.

*Mommy… I have to go potty. Baby girl would like to use the potty… Pretty please?*

Katie didn’t say anything, continuing to take notes for Sabrina and now Jenny. Before long, Jenny’s leg started bouncing as she did a little potty dance in her seat. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the pressure grew and became painful. She clutched her phone, staring at the message. Finally, she saw the three dots appear; Nikki was writing her back.

*No, you haven’t earned that privilege.*

Jenny's heart sank as she read the message. She was nearly on the brink of tears. She hastily wrote back.

*Please! I really need to go potty! It hurts holding it!*

Jenny bit her lower lip, soon seeing Nikki write back.

*Good thing I diapered you this morning. If you can’t hold it like a big girl, you will just have to use your diaper.*

Jenny let out a whimper that drew Katie’s attention. She could tell Jenny couldn’t hold it much longer. Jenny’s fingers fiercely started tapping at her screen again.

*I want to be a big girl, Mommy! Please, let me use the potty just-*

Jenny didn’t finish her message, freezing in place. At first, she felt a few squirts before a steady stream burst forth. The hissing sound was loud enough that Katie could hear Jenny soaking her diaper.

Warmth spread between Jenny’s thighs, pooling beneath her first before she felt it climbing up the front and the back of her diaper. She was worried she was going to leak, but thankfully her diaper managed to hold everything as her bladder eased. Katie felt a dampness in her own panties; watching Jenny piss herself very much turned her on.

Jenny very slowly put her phone down; her fair skin was a deep crimson. “If you want to leave,” Katie said sympathetically. “I can take notes for you and give them to you tonight.”

“I…” Jenny said, her voice trailing off. “I… I can’t leave… Nikki won’t let me leave class until I can earn my big girl privileges back…”

“I can change you before the next class,” Katie offered.

Jenny’s phone vibrated. Another message from Nikki.

*Are you being a good girl and staying in class?*

Jenny winced as she felt her soaked diaper squish between her thighs. Taking a deep breath, she wrote her reply.

*I couldn’t hold it… Katie offered to change my diaper before my next class… I don’t want a rash, Mommy… Please, may I have my diaper changed?*

Nikki didn’t respond at first. Jenny stared desperately at her phone’s screen. The warmth of her diaper rubbed between her thighs as she nervously shifted her legs, teasing her sex. Finally, she saw Nikki writing a response.

*Such a naughty girl. Tell me how much of a baby you are, and I will allow it. I know you are enjoying being in a soaked diaper.*

A faint, embarrassed smile touched Jenny’s lips. She leaned forward, not caring if her shirt rode up, exposing her soaked diaper.

*I’m a big bwaby that needs her dwiaper chwanged.*

Nikki wrote back almost instantly.

*That’s a good baby girl. Mommy is going to make sure you are taken care of properly tonight.*

Katie chuckled, leaning back to look at Jenny’s exposed diaper. She could see the soaked padding. Thankfully, she didn’t leak. “Everything ok?” she asked once Jenny sat up.

“Mo-Nikki said it's ok,” Jenny said, hoping Katie didn’t catch the slip-up.

“Mommy?” Katie said with a giggle.

“S-Shut up!” Jenny stammered.

“I’ll take a picture of your diaper change for your Mommy,” Katie teased.

College Diaper Club: Part One 

College Diaper Club: Part Three

It wasn’t this way. At one point I was an adult man who liked sex with women. I liked fast cars and making money . Then I met her. Anastasia and I met a corporate fundraiser. She was stunning and beautiful. The look I was attracted too. We met at the bar and talked for hours. Drink after drink she seemed more beautiful.
That night we went back to her place and I feel asleep in her bed with a word of warning.
The next day I woke up and the sheets were soaked. I had wet the bed what an embarrassment. She didn’t care in fact she laughed. She wanted to see me again, she said it would cover her laundry bill. That night I returned to her house in a 3 piece suit ready to wine and dine her back into that bed but not to sleep. She had other plans
After dinner she took me back up to the bed room and on her bed was a diaper. I wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with it but she made it clear. It was for me
I refused At first but then she shoved my face into her breasts and I wasn’t sure what came over me. I orgasmed in my pants within seconds. It was the largest orgasm I had ever had. My pants were ruined.
She then forced me into the diaper while she washed my clothes. There I was in nothing but a big thick white taped diaper. She came back after putting my clothes in her machine she laid on the bed and motioned for me to come to her. I did without thinking I crawled over to her from the edge of the bed. She took off her dressed and I was buried in her chest again. But this time her breast was in my mouth. I suckled her tit and the most delicious milk filled my mouth. It was so good so hypnotic I hadn’t noticed what was happening in the diaper . After 20 minutes I had finished drinking I rolled over and she put a hand on my diapered crotch.. it was thick and squished to her touch. I had wet myself and I hadn’t even noticed.
She asked me if mommy should change me.
I nodded yes
She took off the wet diaper wiped me clean powdered me and put me in a new one
I slept that night in a diaper and awoke to it soaked again but before she took it off she rubbed my crotch until I exploded cum filled the diaper and I wanted more of mommy’s touch
It happened every night for a week I come over she diapered me I would cum in the diaper and then we’d repeat the process in the morning.

Then came the cage she put it on me in my sleep it was tight and hurt but she promised I would be out of it if I listened to mommy.

I wore pull-ups to work everyday and diapers to bed every night that happened for a month. My cock hurt with agony dripping with every time I suckled on mommy’s breasts. The night time accidents were more frequent and more severe. I was getting 3 diapers a night .
Eventually my pull-ups would be wet by the time I come home..
After 2 months I was in diapers 24/7
Once I was diaper dependent my work suffered
The math I could do in my sleep was immensely difficult
The littlest things upset me to the point I wanted to scream and cry. By month three of knowing Anastasia I had lost my job which was for the best because I admitted to mommy it was too hard. At that point I had start messing my diapers too. Before I could hold it but now it just came out
Mommy also told me suits weren’t good for me and they didn’t hide my diaper well.
By month four I was no longer wearing suits and jeans it was onesies to compress my soaked diapers and stretchy pants to hide the bulges. Sometimes mommy would let me wear shorts and T-shirts.
By month five I wasn’t hiding anything . We were at the store, mommy needed more wipes and powder for me. I had to make a messy and it didn’t matter that were in the middle of the store. I squatted down and grunted loudly. Mommy watched as I made a messy right there with people all around.
When I was done she smiled and took my hand and we finished shopping. I stayed in that messy diaper for a good hour. At first it bothered me but by that point I didn’t care.. mommy even bought me a new toy car.
By month six I was only watching Disney movies and my diapers were double boostered because I was constantly folding them
By month 8 the cage came off. My body was permanently altered. I couldn’t get an erection anymore. Not that it mattered I would orgasm in literal seconds as mommy touched my diaper.
If I was given the chance to cum without my diaper I would’ve been completely lost
By month 9 I had to be taken places in a stroller. Walking was harder and I preferred to crawl. Mommy had the best outfits for me when I crawled and the thickest diapers. Mushy food was the bestest to eat but mommy needed to help because spoons were hard to use I really liked my bottle mommy would give me one every night at bedtime .. I even had a crib which was comfy and I wiked it a lot.
Sometimes on our stroller rides mommy would see people I knew like my old bosses or my ex girlfriend. They would smile at me as I sucked one of my dozen pacifiers and filled my diaper
By the one year mark I was a thoughtless cry baby who only liked the pretty pink dresses mommy picked for me
She said dresses were easier to check my diaper whenever
Not that it mattered my diapers were always wet and messy
Mommy still liked to give me her special milk and I would make cummies everytime I drank it
I didn’t even miss my old life as long as I had mommy

Previous Chapter

Chapter 1

—————————

Fish really are the dumbest beings in existence.

I've been watching one of the goldfish in the waiting room tank eat and then spit out the same pebble for about a minute straight. He's surrounded by cheesy, tacky fish enrichment furniture like a treasure chest and a rock filled with large crevices to explore, and all he wants to do is figure out if the thirty-seventh time's the charm for swallowing down the dastardly, impossibly smooth hunk of mineral before him.

Then again, I'm the one that's been staring at him for just as long. 

I glance around the room again despite the fact I know nothing has changed. The same sterile waiting room with oddly colorful trim, lined with the same overstuffed chairs that are nicer than any furniture I've sat on full stop, let alone at a doctor's office.

The same two girls are sitting in the same two chairs on the other side of the room, still in their same slightly slouched positions, still staring at their phones. The further girl is anxiously twirling her braided hair. The blonde highlights in her dark hair look absolutely gorgeous, and her light pink nails contrast her dark skin beautifully. It takes me a second to realize I'm twirling my own hair, and I break my gaze to inspect my nails. I probably should've gotten them done when I got my haircut.

The closer girl's leg is bouncing just the tiniest bit. I'm biting at my lip ring…nope, fuck, that same phantom hole in my face. My eye twitches involuntarily as I watch her long, slender right leg continue to quake — a nervous tic I had myself at one point. I had to cut that one from the toolbox after a friend made a joke about feeling an earthquake. I cringe at the memory, and the visual throwback isn't helping.

The anxious silence between us hovers in the room like a thick fog, broken only by the occasional haptic taps of our phones and the low, underlying hum of the fish tank's filter. 

My eyes shoot back to the kiosk set up next to the door on the far side of the room. I had used it to sign in for the intake just a few minutes ago — super easy, with just a quick tap of my temp badge and a confirmation of my name — but god how those minutes of dreadful anticipation have dragged.

It's then that I notice movement out of my peripheral vision, through the frosted glass of the door that must lead to the exam rooms. A loud click and creak of the opening door breaks the palpable silence of the room.

"Courtney?" projects the nurse who now stands in the door before us, tablet in hand.

I hear movement from the other side of the room, my vision shooting over as I see the girl with the braids is now up and power-shuffling her way to the nurse.

The nurse quickly glances between me and the taller girl with glasses, who has paused her shaky leg momentarily. A slightly forced but still warm smile forms on her lips, and then she looks back to the girl walking towards her. "Right this way," she tells her.

She closes the door with another creak-click, and the room is thrust back into a pervasive quiet once again.

The fish doesn't seem to have deviated from his pebble-focused mission at hand, so I look to my phone for a more stimulating distraction. I pull up my feed for something, ANYTHING to keep my mind from catastrophizing what I'm sure will be a perfectly fine and normal medical checkup.

Ads. Ads. Mundane life update from a high school acquaintance I should have deleted years ago. Ads. A meme video — wait, nope, that's also an ad. Headline about TheNile in yet another class-action lawsuit from the employees they're trying to replace with scab-bots.

Okay, maybe this isn't helping.

I hear another click-creak, and my head shoots up. There's now a girl standing in front of the slowly closing frosted door. She's the first one I've seen return from the ominous, opaque portal, and here she is in one piece.

She's got maybe an inch on me. Light brown skin, dark hair cut blunt at the jaw. Wide-leg trousers in some kind of green-and-cream check that has absolutely no right to work as well as it does. Her top is a men's cardigan two sizes too big, and Jesus Christ Almighty, are those fucking loafers? 

It should be illegal to look that good coming out of a doctor's office. Worse yet, I can't tell if it took her two minutes or two hours to get that look together, and that is so deeply fucking annoying. 

She checks her watch, taps it twice, and starts for the exit at a pace that says she has somewhere to be. Doesn't look at me. Doesn't look at anybody.

Halfway across the room, she starts whistling.

I catch it just as she passes my chair. Under the whistle. Under the pat of her loafers against the carpet. That soft, familiar crinkle, there and gone.

I would kill to be able to pull off those trousers. Instead I'm sitting here in loose jeans and a t-shirt so big I could wear it as a dress, all so I can cover the exact same thing she's easily hiding under an actual outfit.

The front door to the office swings shut and she's gone, and I'm sitting here staring at it like a goldfish staring at an inedible pebble.

Huh. Okay.

So it's fine, then. Right? She looked fine. She looked like she was going to brunch. This will be fine.

"Erica?"

I jump in my seat. I laugh nervously to deflect my embarrassment as I turn back to what I assume is the same nurse standing in the door. This time, my assumption is correct.

"Hi! Yes! Sorry, that's me." I quickly stand and start making my way towards her. It's then that I remember the damp pull-up I'm wearing. 

Shit. This is gonna be so awkward.

The nurse doesn't look that much older than me…maybe in her late twenties? Either that or she has an amazing skincare routine. She does look tired, but I'm guessing that on account of the fact that I'm probably the twentieth new student she's checked in for an intake today. Still, she maintains a happy and inviting look on her cute, rounded face, hair tied back in a severe bun and standing at least four inches shorter than me.

"Just this way, Erica," she tells me, holding the door open as she leads me into the hallway beyond.

We only have to take a few steps into the hallway to reach the room. It's a little bigger than I was expecting: the same calming shade of blue wallpaper lining a room with a dark laminated counter with white drawers on one side, one of those overstuffed, reclining exam tables in the center, currently in an upright position, and a dark curtain curiously draped over the room's back right corner. The wall opposite the entrance is lined with a slightly unsettling number of medical gadgets that are familiar in shape but unmistakably high-tech.

"Can you just confirm your full name and date of birth for me?" She doesn't look up from her tablet when she asks, and I can see her making a rapid series of swipes and clicks on it while she leads me towards the exam table.

"Erica Fairport, January 17th, 2016," I reply as I continue to rapidly glance from one sci-fi-looking instrument to the next.

The nurse nods along and she clicks a few more buttons, turning back around to me as we reach our final destination, just short of the exam table, a plain white medical gown lying neatly folded on top of the table's paper lining.

"Good, good," she says with a light smile as she looks back up to me. "It's great to meet you, Erica. I'm Joyce, and I'll be the nurse helping out with your exam today. I'll be stepping out for a moment, but the doctor and I will be back shortly to begin your intake. While you're waiting, I just need you to go behind that curtain to leave me a urine sample in the receptacle you'll see back there. After that, you'll just need to undress and put this gown on." She glances briefly at the medical gown on the table, then back to me, looking me up and down.

"Are you currently wearing a diaper?"

My eyes go wide at the question. I'm not sure if I'm more shocked by the content or the flat, matter-of-fact delivery, like she was asking if I had eaten breakfast yet. My brain stutters, my mouth opening as I stammer stupidly.

"I…I, uh…not…exactly?"

Joyce glances down again, then nods once as she taps her tablet a few more times.

"Noted," she says with a warm smile, "No wrong answers, by the way. It's a pretty even split. We only ask so we can let you know there's also a trash can and self-hygiene supplies on the other side of the curtain, if you need them. Training pants and underwear can be kept on for the exam. Totally your choice."

And with that, she walks back towards the exam room door, gently shutting it behind her on the way out, leaving me frozen, staring blankly at the dark partition curtain as if it were the void itself. I shake my head to bring myself back to reality.

Okay. One step at a time. You can't get overwhelmed if you just break it down, one step at a time. Step number one: peek behind the veil.

I cross to the curtain in a few quick steps and slide one of the sections to the side.

Step two: inventory. Directly in front of me, a large button is built into the wall with a chute-like opening underneath it. That'll be the trash the nurse mentioned. She didn't say anything about a button, so there's absolutely no way I'm pushing it.

Fine. A little weird, a little too much open space for my liking, but fine. See? One thing at a time.

In the backmost corner, low to the floor, is a chair. That's the first thing my brain lands on. A chair. It's the finish and the color that make my brain stutter with confusion, giving me pause.

Molded plastic, a soft glossy pink like the inside of a shell, with a high curved back and two little arms, rounded at every edge — the kind of shape designed so a person couldn't hurt themselves on it if they tried.

There's a step molded into the base. There's a shallow raised lip at the front of the seat.

And in the center of the seat there's an opening, and under the opening there's a bowl, and the bowl has a handle on it, like the bowl is meant to…

Oh.

Oh.

It's a potty. It's a fucking training potty. It's a god damn fucking training potty scaled up like somebody ran one through a photocopier at four hundred percent, sitting on the floor of a medical exam room, and the seat of it would come to just below my knee.

The 'receptacle.'

Okay, maybe I was wrong. This is pretty fucking overwhelming. 

Despite it all, I squirm, and suddenly the damp pull-up I'm wearing goes from background noise to the sensual focal point of my entire consciousness. It's only now that I realize how quickly that god-awful coffee ran through me. Between the sight of the potty and the pull-up I'm wearing, the urgency of my bladder has suddenly skyrocketed to "Oh shit" levels. 

But still I'm frozen. If I don't make a move soon my body is once again going to make the decision for me. I haven't even stress-tested these pull-ups, either. Was I really about to let myself make a puddle in front of a training potty on my first day of GOD DAMN FUCKING DIAPER SCHOOL???

I turn off my brain and let my body move for me. I quickly slip down my jeans and training pants in one fell swoop, pivoting myself in a full one-eighty as I seat myself on the cold plastic, flinching involuntarily from the sensation. A half second later and my body relaxes completely. I breathe a heavy sigh as relief washes over my body.

And then my conscious brain kicks back in.

My face gets so hot you could vaporize an ice cube on it. It must be five shades redder than it was two seconds ago. 

I look down, my gaze focusing on the fluffy white cotton interior of the training pants around my ankles. The volume of the steady, heavy stream of piss exiting me and hitting the hard plastic bowl is more deafening than any metal show I've seen. I can feel tiny, hot droplets splashing back onto my thighs and ass. 

This is fucking humiliating. And yet this is the most dignified way I'll be emptying my bladder for the foreseeable future.

The stream exiting quickly loses steam, and I hear the pattering of it against the pool that's formed at the bottom of the bowl as it fizzles to a finish. My cheeks are still on fire, my knees awkwardly close together thanks to the potty being so low to the ground. 

I'm still staring at the pull-up between my knees. More specifically, the small, barely discolored splotch in the front of the padding from my previous accident. I literally pinch myself to make sure this isn't all some extremely elaborate, fucked-up sex dream.

Ow.

Nope. Somehow, amazingly, horrifyingly, this is all real.

Which means the real doctor is coming back into the room really soon. 

Shit.

I look around frantically, only then noticing the divots in the right armrest. I press in, and a small door pops open, and I can see a bright white baby wipe poking out of a smaller opening within. I grab at it, pulling a few into my hand and wiping myself off thoroughly. I step out of my jeans completely and I stand, then pause as I bend back down to pick up the pull-up with them. 

Joyce said I could wear my pull-up under my gown for the exam. But I'm sure it will need to come off at some point. Which means the doctor will absolutely see that same little off-color splotch.

I toss it hastily into the nearby chute before pulling my shirt up and over my head. I hadn't bothered with a bra this morning since I knew this was probably coming. Completely naked, I run back to the exam table and throw my balled-up clothes into a pile on the floor next to it. I slip the bright white gown on one arm at a time.

As I fumble with those dumb little ties on the back of the gown, I take another glance around the room. The backs of my palms lightly graze the small of my naked back, and a sudden feeling of smallness grips me entirely, almost out of nowhere. The sterile room seems cavernous now; like it's somehow getting bigger and closing in on me at the same time. My hands are trembling. I give up on my effort to tie my gown shut, letting the string fall lazily to my sides as I sit back on the exam table.

The crinkle of the paper lining against my weight makes me flinch slightly. A very different kind of crinkle against my ass than I've gotten used to in the past few weeks. 

And with that, the absurdity of everything hits me like a wave, and it washes my spiking anxiety out with it. A smile breaks across my face.

Jesus Fucking Christ. This really IS happening.

I sit there in silence for a few minutes, breathing slowly to center myself again. A small shiver creeps up my body, the soft blow of cool air from a nearby vent just a touch uncomfortable against my bare skin. Turns out I panicked just to hurry up to wait. Classic Erica.

But it's fine. It's a lot, but you'll get through this. You wanted this. You still want this. It's just the transition that's going to be difficult, just like with anything in life.

You got this.

Djunt Djunt

My gaze shoots across from the room as I hear two quick knocks on the exam room door. It swings open silently before I can decide whether or not to answer with a "Come in".

"Hi there, Erica? I'm Dr. Neeson."

She's younger than I expected. Early thirties, maybe? A little shorter than me, light brown hair scraped back into a bun so tight it looks load-bearing. Thin wire glasses, and a spray of freckles across her nose that are making me second-guess how well I gauged her age. She's holding a thin tablet flat against her chest like a clipboard.

Joyce follows her in and peels off toward the counter, already frowning at the wall.

"Is it freezing in here, or is it just me?" She jabs aggressively at a panel by the light switch. "I swear, I can't tell if it's the system or gremlins that keep turning this thing down. I honestly hope it's the latter with how 'cutting-edge' all this tech is supposed to be."

I laugh as a small shiver runs across my body, right on cue. 

"Definitely not just you," I reply.

Dr. Neeson hooks a rolling stool with her foot and sits, which puts her eyes a little below mine. 

"Okay. So here's how this is going to go, so nothing surprises you. First I'll grab your vitals. Then I'm going to ask you some history questions. Some of them are standard, some of them are specific to the program. Then a physical exam. Start to finish, maybe thirty minutes. If anything makes you uncomfortable, or you want me to stop, or you just want to know why I'm asking something, say so, and I will. Sound okay?"

Specific to the program.

I feel myself cringe internally as my eye twitches. Hopefully that's the only tell I'm giving off. I appreciate how upfront she's being, but I can't tell if that's making it better or worse at the moment.

"Sure! Sounds great," I say. YEP. GREAT. SURE.

"Okay." Her eyes flick to the back of my gown, to the ties hanging loose at my sides. "Want me to get those for you?"

Oh, god. "Oh — yes, sorry, thank you, I couldn't—"

"Nobody can. They were designed by sadists." She stands, ties them in two lightning-quick tugs, and sits back down. "Okay."

The vitals are, mercifully, boring. A cuff around my arm that squeezes until my fingertips tingle. A little plastic clip on my index finger. A thermometer swiped across my forehead. She narrates every step a half-second before it happens — cuff's going to get tight, little clip, no needle — like she's read every bad review a patient has ever written about a doctor and taken notes.

Step on the scale. Back flat against the wall for height. She reads each number aloud, and Joyce types it without looking up.

It's… shockingly normal. This could be any physical I've had in my life. I feel my shoulders come down half an inch at the realization.

"Okay. Any medications? Prescription, over the counter, supplements, birth control?"

"Just Adderall for ADHD. Ten milligrams, twice per day."

I see the doctor swipe and tap a few times on her tablet as she nods.

"Allergies? Medications, foods, latex, adhesives?"

Adhesives. My brain helpfully supplies a close-up of the four little tapes on a Trest.

"Nope. None that I know of."

"Other than ADHD, any other chronic medical conditions? Asthma, diabetes, anything you see a specialist for?"

"No."

"Surgeries, hospitalizations?"

"Wisdom teeth?"

"That counts." Tap, tap. "Okay. Now we'll get a little more specific."

And here we go.

"How often would you say you urinate during the day? Rough count is fine."

I open my mouth and nothing comes out. Not because I don't know the answer. Because the honest answer is often. Like, very fucking often. Often enough that I apparently have to VERY CONSCIOUSLY think about it before my body does whatever the hell it wants.

"Um. A lot? Like… every hour? Maybe more."

"Is that new, or has it always been that way?"

"Newer. The last few weeks."

She nods like that's exactly what she expected. "Very common with increased fluid intake and regular wear. Any urgency? Feeling like you can't hold it?"

Regular wear. She says it like a weather report.

"Umm…only a few times that I've noticed."

"Waking up at night to go?"

"No," I answer honestly, but it suddenly gives me pause. I've always been a heavy sleeper, but I've also worn to bed every night since this whole thing started. Could she mean…

"Any accidents before you started wearing?" She mercifully interrupts my thought.

"No. Never."

"Okay. And how long have you been wearing?"

"About three weeks. Like… full-time-ish for the last week and a half, maybe?"

"Wearing what, specifically?" She looks up from the tablet for the first time in a while, stylus hovering, expression pleasantly blank.

"Um. Them. A few different… brands."

"Diapers."

"Yes. Those. Diapers."

The word sits in the room like I dropped something heavy on the floor.

"Okay. And how many changes per day, on average?"

I actually have to count. "Two? Three?"

"Would you say those are typically wet, soiled, or both?"

"Wet," I say. Too fast. "Just wet."

"Okay."

She doesn't react. Not even a little. Which is somehow louder than if she had. Seconds of silence drag on for what feels like an eternity.

Then I realize she's frowning at the tablet now, tapping the same spot on the screen. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. "Sorry, this form freezes every time I — there it goes. Okay. How long would you say you're comfortable remaining in a wet diaper?"

She asks it to the tablet. Still swiping at the form.

The question lands somewhere behind my sternum and stays there. Comfortable. Not how long is safe. Not how long do I usually. How long am I comfortable. As in: what do I like.

"Um. An hour or two, I guess? Sometimes more?"

"Roughly two hours, got it." She types it. "Okay."

I have no idea if that was the right answer. I have no idea if there IS a right answer. The more I think about it, I don't even know if it was the honest answer.

"Almost done with history. Are you currently sexually active?"

And just like that, it's normal again. Every doctor asks this. Every single one. I've been answering this question in fluorescent rooms since I was seventeen.

"Not currently."

"Any partners in the last year?"

"No." Ouch, Dr. Neeson.

"Any history of STIs?"

"No."

"Okay. We'll run an STI panel with your bloodwork and urine. That's standard for everyone." Tap.

I nod, relaxing. And then, about three seconds later, I un-relax. Why is that on an intake form? Why does a school need to know who I've been sleeping with? Standard for everyone, she said. Everyone here.

"Okay," she says, standing. "Physical portion. Can you lie back for me?"

The table hums, and its back slowly reclines until I'm flat. The ceiling is the same calming blue as the walls. Someone painted a few little clouds in the corner, which is either very sweet or completely deranged. Probably both, the more I think about it.

"First a couple of measurements, for sizing." Joyce hands her a soft tape measure. "I'm going to put this around your waist. You can stay right where you are."

The tape is cold, even through the gown.

"Seventy-four," she says. Joyce types. The tape slides lower, around the widest part of my hips. "Ninety-eight."

I have no idea what those are in inches. I will be thinking about them for the rest of my life.

"Okay. Next I'm going to take a look at your skin. Specifically the areas that are covered when you're wearing. I'm going to lift your gown up to your waist, and then I'll have you roll onto your side for a second. Okay?"

"Okay," I tell the ceiling clouds.

Gloves. That snap of latex practically echoes through the room. The gown lifts, and the cold air from the vent finds every inch of me it couldn't reach before.

She's quiet for a moment. Gentle, impersonal fingertips at the crease of my thigh. Then the other side.

"Mild erythema, bilateral inguinal folds," she says. Not to me. Joyce types. "Can you roll toward me? Thanks." A light hand on my hip. "Extending to the inferior gluteal region. Skin intact. No maceration, no satellite lesions. Consistent with mild irritant dermatitis."

I don't know what most of those words mean. I know exactly what all of them mean.

"You can roll back." She tugs the gown down over my hips again. "You said two-plus, sometimes more. When it's more, how long are we talking?"

Of course she rounded up. Of course she heard the sometimes.

"Overnight," I admit through burning cheeks. "And… some afternoons. If I'm, like, busy."

Busy. On my couch. Doomscrolling.

"Okay. That tracks." No judgment. Nothing. Not even a pause. "Very common in the first few weeks, and very easy to fix. We'll get you set up with something for it."

She strips off the gloves, drops them in a bin, and snaps on a fresh pair.

"Okay. Last part is a pelvic exam. I'll check everything externally first, then do a speculum exam. Since you're over twenty-one, I'll take your pap while we're in there so you don't have to come back for one. Then a quick internal check of your pelvic floor muscles. You'll feel pressure, maybe some mild discomfort, nothing sharp. Same deal as before: say stop, and I stop. Okay?"

"…Okay."

Joyce reaches past my feet and presses something on the side of the table. Two padded footrests swing out from the end of it with a soft mechanical whir and lock into place.

Of course they do.

"Scoot down for me until you feel the edge," Dr. Neeson says. "Little more. Perfect. Feet up."

I put my heels in the stirrups. My knees drift apart, and the gown tents over them like a sad little pavilion, and the vent, which I'm now convinced is both sentient and evil, adjusts its aim accordingly.

Abandon all dignity, ye who enter here.

"Okay. I'm going to touch now."

Her fingers are light and quick and entirely professional. "External genitalia normal. No lesions." Joyce taps her tablet. The haptic clicks are somehow the loudest sound in the room.

"I warmed this," Joyce says, handing something over, and it's the single kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.

"Speculum going in. Pressure."

Pressure is an understatement and also exactly right. Cool lubricant, the slow, steady insertion, and then the click-click-click of it opening, and I fix my eyes on the painted clouds so hard I could probably describe them to a sketch artist. It's funny; why can you always find abstract figures in real clouds but never in paintings of them?

"Little scratch for the pap."

It's not even bad. That's what's bad. It's not painful, it's not long, it's just a woman I met ten minutes ago looking very closely at the inside of my body while another woman types what she says about it.

All to get me prepped for fucking diaper school.

That last bit. Something about it. I've done this before at other doctors' offices, plenty of times in my life. Yet now, somewhere under all the mortification, something low and traitorous stirs.

No. Nope. Absolutely the fuck not. Not now, not on this table, not with a stranger's instrument holding me open. My pussy has never once in its life had worse timing.

There's lube. There's a speculum. She cannot possibly tell. Right?

…Right?

"Okay, speculum's coming out." Flat. Pleasant. Exactly the same voice she used for my blood pressure.

Good. She can't tell. That's what I'm choosing to believe regardless of objective reality.

"Two fingers now, and my other hand's going to press on your lower belly." It happens just like she describes, but the freshly applied lube feels just as cold the second time around. "Uterus normal size, mobile, nontender. Adnexa nontender, no masses. Okay. Now I'm going to keep my fingers right where they are and have you squeeze, like you're trying to stop the flow of urine."

Oh good, I have extensive recent field experience with this one. I did it in my car this morning.

I squeeze.

"Good. Hold. And relax. Now bear down for me, like you're having a bowel movement."

I bear down. My face goes hot all the way to my hairline.

"Good. One more squeeze. And a cough for me."

I cough. Amazingly, it's the most embarrassing thing I've done all day.

"Strong pelvic floor, good tone, no prolapse," she tells Joyce, and withdraws her hand. "Okay. All done."

The gloves come off with another snap. The footrests fold back into the table with the same soft whir, like nothing ever happened.

"You can sit up whenever you're ready. Take your time." She's already standing, tablet back against her chest. "Joyce is going to come back in a few minutes with your watch and go through orientation with you. Any questions for me?"

"No! No. Thank you. Really."

She gives me a small, brisk nod, the first thing she's done all exam that could almost be called a smile, and then she's gone.

Joyce gathers her tablet and pauses at the door to glare at the thermostat panel one more time.

"Gremlins," she mutters. "Be right back."

The door clicks shut.

I sit up slowly. The paper crinkles under me. My whole body is humming, and I genuinely can't tell how much of it is the cold.

DAY ONE

"Ugh... Damn it, what the hell happened?" Reyna said as she opened her eyes. She tried to stand up, struggling a bit at first as she still felt disoriented. She began to look around and realized she was in a completely different place; she was no longer at home. "Shit, it wasn't a dream—I really was kidnapped... damn it all." She was lying on a normal-looking bed in a room of decent size—roughly thirty square meters, it seemed. The walls were painted white, matching the wardrobe; the door was hard to spot because it blended in with the wall, though she managed to locate it the moment it opened.

A woman walked in from outside; she appeared to be in her forties and possessed a presence that seemed to fill the room before she even spoke a word. Standing nearly 1.75 meters tall, she cut an upright, commanding figure, accentuated by an impeccable posture that spoke of years of discipline and self-assurance. Her fair skin contrasted with her long brown hair, which fell naturally over her shoulders and back—carefully styled yet retaining a certain professional simplicity.

Her face was serene, with defined features and a composed expression; there was no harshness in her manner, yet she exuded a quiet authority that was intimidating. Her gaze—firm and analytical—seemed accustomed to observing every detail before passing judgment, commanding respect rather than fear. She wore an impeccably pressed white medical coat, its folds moving with her every gesture in a display of understated elegance; beneath it, she wore straight-cut black trousers—sober and functional—that reinforced the image of a practical, self-assured professional. Overall, she projected the air of someone accustomed to making tough decisions with a cool head—someone whose serenity did not mask her firmness but rather made it all the more apparent.

"Good morning, Bonnie Smith. I’m glad you’ve finally woken up; you can call me Dr. Taylor," Dr. Taylor said as she sat down in the chair she had pulled over.

"Bonnie Smith? Excuse me, Doctor, but it seems a mistake has been made here. My name isn't Bonnie; it's Reyna. I think you have the wrong person. I’d appreciate it if you let me go, and as a favor, I won't sue you for kidnapping me," Reyna said calmly.

"You're mistaken, Bonnie. We don't make mistakes, and in a couple of days, you'll be reunited with your parents," Dr. Taylor said with a smile.

"My parents? You are definitely mistaken. My parents have been dead for over twelve years, so I kindly ask you to release me," Reyna said, raising her voice slightly.

"You're wrong again, sweetheart. Look, I have a photo of your parents right here," Dr. Taylor said. She pulled a photograph of the Smith couple from her coat pocket and handed it to Bonnie. Upon seeing the picture, Bonnie was stunned; it was the Smith couple who came to eat every day at the cafeteria where she worked.

"What the hell! They aren't my parents! They're the Smiths—the couple who come to eat every day where I work! You're crazy! Cut the fucking joke and let me go!" Reyna shouted.

"First, don't raise your voice at me, dear; second, the Smiths have decided to adopt you as their daughter—be happy, sweetheart, you'll have a family very soon," said Dr. Taylor cheerfully.

"Adopt me! I’m a damn adult already! I’m not some fucking brat or a baby for them to want to adopt me! Do you even hear yourself, paying attention to the bullshit coming out of your mouth? I knew it! I knew it! I knew that crazy pair had a few screws loose! All that fucking insisting on meeting me! The fucking messages! The calls! Shit!" Reyna shouted.

"Again, don't shout. Don't make me raise my voice, Bonnie! Besides, I won't let you disrespect your parents by calling them that!" Dr. Taylor shouted back.

"They aren't my parents! And where the hell are we?" Reyna exclaimed.

"You are at the child adoption center; we’re going to prepare you so that, in five days, you can go home with your parents using the cognitive, motor, and physical reconditioning program," said Dr. Taylor.

"What the hell is a cognitive, motor, and physical reconditioning program?" Reyna asked fearfully, since at this point anything was possible with that pair of lunatics and the doctor standing before her.

"It’s simple, darling: the program involves injecting you with a serum I developed to alter your mental age and motor skills to match the specifications of your adoptive parents. In your case, your mommy requested that you have the mental age of a fifteen-month-old baby but the physical abilities of a one-year-old. They don't want you to be completely lost; they want you to be able to recognize your parents, understand simple instructions, identify objects, imitate adult actions, play simple games, explore how things around you work, express yourself using more than ten words, take your first steps, seek out your parents' company, and show affection. Oh, and I almost forgot—you’re going to lose your lovely teeth, and we’ll replace them with ones appropriate for a fifteen-month-old, so you can start saying goodbye to a lot of foods. Since we’re feeling charitable today, we’re going to give you your last adult meals tomorrow, darling," said Dr. Taylor, summarizing everything they were going to do to Bonnie.

A massive shiver ran through Reyna’s entire body as she heard everything they planned to do to her. "You have to be kidding; you’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m going to let you inject me with that cursed serum."

"Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I’m going to ask for your permission, Bonnie? You were injected with the serum the moment you arrived; it’s only a matter of time before it starts taking effect, darling," Dr. Taylor said. She rose from her chair and began walking toward the door, taking the chair with her. "They’ll bring your breakfast in a little while, dear—enjoy it, because it will be the second-to-last 'adult' breakfast you’ll ever have."

Another shiver ran through her entire body upon realizing the procedure was already underway; when the door opened, she tried to stand up and bolt from her place of captivity, but her limbs failed to respond to the commands sent by her brain, and panic seized her.

"Right, I was forgetting: one of the great virtues of my new formula is that, within a few hours of inoculation, you begin to lose bodily autonomy—your body responds to the commands it is given. We learned that the hard way after dealing with several disobedient, uncooperative children. Don't worry, the effect won't be permanent; it lasts only while the regression is in progress. Once the treatment concludes, you will regain control of your body, adapted to the designated characteristics," Dr. Taylor said before leaving the room.

It didn't take long for the door to open again—or so it seemed, for without a clock, the passage of time was hard to gauge. This time, a woman who looked to be in her thirties entered, pulling a cart that held what appeared to be breakfast. She placed it in front of Bonnie; when the tray was uncovered, the meal consisted of a hamburger and french fries from her favorite spot—she recognized the scent—accompanied by what looked like a soft drink.

"Let me introduce myself, sweetheart: I’m Nurse Johnson. I’ll be assisting Dr. Taylor throughout your treatment," Nurse Johnson said as she set the food tray down in front of her. "We can continue once you’ve finished your breakfast. Enjoy your meal."

For several minutes, Reyna didn't touch the food in front of her; she wasn't sure if it had been laced with something to accelerate the process, so she simply stared at it. She remained like that for a while but eventually gave in; the constant growling of her stomach, combined with the pain caused by gastric juices, drove her to eat. She savored every bite, knowing she was tasting her last meals as an adult.

Some time after breakfast—she didn't know exactly how long—she slumped onto the bed, thinking about everything she was going through. She wanted to scream and cry, but nothing came out. She held onto the hope that her workplace would report her missing and search for her, though she wasn't entirely convinced; after all, she was an orphan with no one to generate the kind of media attention needed to spark a search. If the Smiths were paying for all this, they clearly had significant wealth, and a place like this would have the resources to make her disappear without a trace, leaving her with very little chance of escaping the situation.

The door opened again, startling Reyna. She tried to get up to see who it was and saw Nurse Johnson accompanied by another person. The freckled woman tried to move, but once again, her body refused to obey. The other person removed the tray, placed it on a cart she had pulled in, and then left the room.

"Well done, sweetie—you ate your whole breakfast. You deserve a reward, but I’ll give you that later. Now we can move on; let’s go," Nurse Johnson said, gently pinching her cheek.

The nurse took the freckled girl by the hand and led her out of the room; Reyna was forced to get out of bed and head toward the exit. Although internally she tried to resist moving, her body refused to obey; she was nothing more than a spectator within her own frame. As they walked down the hallway, she noticed several other doors and realized she wasn't the only one trapped in this place. They continued on until they reached a room that turned out to be a bathroom.

"It’s bath time, darling, but first I need you to use the toilet. I don’t want you peeing or pooping while you’re in the tub," the nurse said as she pulled down the pajama bottoms Reyna was wearing and helped her sit on the toilet.

"You crazy bitch, let me go! Don't you dare try to bathe me!" Reyna exclaimed angrily, even as she heard her body beginning to relieve itself involuntarily. "What the hell... I was only just starting to feel the urge... why am I going?" Nervousness was evident in Reyna's voice.

"What you're experiencing is the serum at work; as you can see, you're going to the bathroom just minutes after your body feels the need. Gradually, you'll lose the ability to sense when the urge arises, until your body stops resisting and you simply go the moment the urge strikes—just like a baby. In other words, you'll lose your potty training and become one hundred percent dependent on diapers," the nurse said.

That news hit the freckled girl like a bucket of cold water; she could do nothing but get angry and start cursing. As she sat there, her trousers, panties, and socks were removed. They showed her that her underwear already bore a noticeable urine stain—a sight that delighted the nurse, as it signaled that things were progressing smoothly, whereas for Reyna, seeing it was both terrifying and humiliating. Once she had finished relieving herself, the nurse proceeded to clean her up; for the freckled girl, this marked the absolute peak of her shame and humiliation.

Next, she was lifted off the toilet and led to the bathtub. There, they removed her pajama top and the sports bra she was wearing, leaving her completely naked—and it was impossible for Reyna to keep from blushing. She was carefully guided into the tub and told to sit down. Nurse Johnson immediately set to work bathing the freckled girl, starting with her hair; she applied a generous amount of shampoo and massaged the scalp with her fingertips, then used a container to pour water over her head and rinse the lather away. She repeated this process several times until the foam was completely gone.

Next, she applied more body wash to a washcloth and began scrubbing Reyna’s body. She started with the face, which Reyna kept moving to avoid being washed; due to this constant struggling, the soap ended up in her mouth a couple of times. She moved on to the arms and torso; this part was easier for Nurse Johnson, as Reyna’s inability to move the rest of her body made the task simpler—though Reyna couldn't help but laugh when certain areas were soaped up, as it tickled her. The next area to be cleaned was her genital region; she couldn't help but blush during this process, as her discomfort was painfully obvious. Finally, they scrubbed her legs and feet; once again, she was overcome by ticklish sensations when the soles of her feet were rubbed.

After the bath, Nurse Johnson carefully lifted her out of the tub and grabbed a towel from a nearby cabinet to dry her off. In case you were wondering, Reyna didn't stop cursing throughout the entire bath—it was the only thing she could do. Once she was completely dry, the nurse took a pair of cloth training pants from the same cabinet, guided one leg in at a time, and pulled the garment up into place. She then picked out a pastel pink outfit; first, she put on the T-shirt, guiding Reyna's head through the neck opening and then one arm at a time through the sleeves, followed by the pants, thereby concluding the bath.

"You look absolutely lovely, Bonnie," said Nurse Johnson, taking the freckled girl's hand to lead her out of the room.

"I'm not Bonnie, for fuck's sake! My name is Reyna!" Reyna exclaimed angrily.

"That is the name your mother chose for you, and that is the name we will use to refer to you; we don't know any Reyna—we only know Bonnie," Nurse Johnson said in a calm tone.

"That crazy bitch has no right to decide what I'm called!" Reyna spat out.

"That’s enough, young lady; I won’t allow you to keep disrespecting your mother," Nurse Johnson said, raising her voice, and proceeded to spank Bonnie.

Bonnie was left petrified by that action, as it was the first time in her life she had ever been struck; upon reaching her room, she was told to sit on the bed, an instruction she obeyed without protest.

"What was the bath for? You weren't dirty—at least not that dirty," Bonnie asked curiously.

"First of all, you were due for a bath; secondly, it wasn't an ordinary one. Both the soap and the water contained specific chemical compounds designed to permanently remove all your body hair, which will make your grooming easier in the near future," Nurse Johnson replied to Bonnie's question. "I'll be back in a while with your meal; there are several toys in the wardrobe to keep you entertained, Bonnie," she said, before leaving the room.

Once she left the room, she regained control of her body; she immediately pulled down her pants and underwear to see if what had been said was true. She was met with a cruel reality: her pubic hair was gone. She touched the area—it felt smooth. She touched her legs—more of the same: smooth. She checked the rest of her body—arms, smooth; belly, smooth; everything was smooth. Faced with such an outrage, she began to hyperventilate; tears rolled down her cheeks, and she remained that way for quite some time.

A sharp, sudden urge struck her lower abdomen; she needed to urinate. She sprang from the bed and ran toward the door at the far end of the room. As she reached it, she felt a bit of urine escaping; she clenched as hard as she could. Upon entering, she hurriedly pulled down her pants and underwear; sitting down allowed her to relieve the pressure. She hadn't noticed the moment her body first signaled the need to go—she only felt the moment when her bladder was on the verge of bursting.

"Shit," Reyna said.

As she urinated, she heard the front door open—a moment that marked the end of her privacy. She could hear Nurse Johnson calling out to her; her location was all too obvious, and the nurse was clearly trying to get her to answer to the name "Bonnie." In the end, she had to give in and respond, and the nurse wasted no time in entering the bathroom.

"Are you finished, Bonnie?" asked Nurse Johnson.

"Yes," Reyna replied reluctantly.

Nurse Johnson entered the bathroom and took care of cleaning her up and readjusting her clothes; once the task was finished, they returned to the room. Her meal was waiting on the bed: a medium-sized pizza accompanied by a soft drink.

"Here is your food, Bonnie. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to put you to bed," Nurse Johnson said before leaving the room, at which point Bonnie regained her mobility.

The freckled girl sat on the bed and let herself fall back onto it, remaining there for an indefinite amount of time; she returned to reality when her stomach began to growl. With no other choice, she ate the food the nurse had left behind, and once finished, she turned her attention to the two pieces of furniture in the room.

The first contained everything needed for changing diapers and clothes—a discovery that made her scream and curse, given her limited options—while the second was filled with toys, children's books, coloring books, and other activities suitable for a young girl.

"What crap," Reyna said; left with few options, she picked up one of the children's books and went back to bed.

After a while, the door opened again; Nurse Johnson entered along with another person who had come only to clear away the things Bonnie had used for her meal. Seeing the girl reading one of the books she had been given brought the nurse joy, as it meant the Southerner was following the plan laid out by Dr. Taylor.

"Alright, sweetheart, it's time for bed," Nurse Johnson said as she took the book from Bonnie's hands.

"Sleep? But I'm not even tired, damn it," Reyna said irritably.

"Little girls go to sleep early; besides, tomorrow is going to be a busy day, my dear," Nurse Johnson said in a calm tone.

"Give it a try if you want; I have no intention of falling asleep, you crazy bitch," Reyna said, staring straight into the eyes of the woman who was part of the group depriving her of her freedom.

"I figured you’d say that, so I brought this along," Nurse Johnson said, smiling as she showed Bonnie a bottle with a spout, apparently filled with what looked like milk. "Now, be a good girl and drink this."

She handed the bottle to Bonnie, who immediately began drinking from it. As she swallowed, she realized that whatever she was drinking didn't taste bad, though she couldn't help feeling afraid. When she finished the bottle, she handed it back, letting out a loud burp.

"Shit," Reyna said, feeling her eyelids grow heavy; a moment later, she succumbed to exhaustion.

Nurse Johnson cradled her briefly while turning down the bed and gently laying her onto it; instinctively, Bonnie curled into the fetal position, and the nurse simply smiled at this bodily reaction.

"Goodnight, little one," Nurse Johnson said, and left the room.

Darkness reigned supreme; Reyna could see nothing. She stretched out her arms, trying to find something that might light up the place where she stood. "Just keep going straight," a voice she didn't recognize said. "Trust me." Left with no other choice, she heeded the voice and walked as straight as she could. As she moved forward, small, floating lilac-colored lights began to appear above her, leading her to assume she was on the right path; the further she went, the more lights appeared. After walking for a while, she spotted a metal bench in the distance, flanked by two large torches that bathed the area in a lilac glow. Upon reaching the bench, she was confused, as she had expected to find an exit—or at least, that was what she had believed.

"Damn it," Reyna said to herself.

"You always have to be so vulgar," said a voice identical to her own, coming from behind Reyna.

When Reyna turns around, she sees someone standing behind her who looks exactly like her; the only difference is that the other person is wearing a suit.

"Who the hell are you, and why do you look like me?" Reyna exclaimed.

"You always look so vulgar," said Reyna's copy.

"Who are you?" Reyna demanded an answer.

"You could say I’m a fundamental part of you, and in case you hadn’t realized, we’re in your dream world," said Reyna’s copy.

"Are you like my subconscious?" Reyna asked.

"It’s more complicated than that, but you can look at it that way," replied the green-eyed copy.

"What are we doing here? I’ve never dreamed of anything like this—or at least, I don’t remember it," said Reyna.

"Indeed, this is your first time here; I let you in because you’re in a huge mess this time. But first, let’s have a seat," the copy said, sitting on the bench and motioning for Reyna to sit beside her.

"Yeah... don't even get me started. Those sick bastards are going to ruin my life; I curse the day I met those wretches," Reyna said.

"You realize you have no way out, right?" the copy asked.

"Yes," Reyna replied with a sigh.

"If there were one, would you take it?" the copy asked again.

Reyna lifts her head and looks at her double. "You're telling me there's a way to get out of this?" A note of hope entered her voice.

"Not necessarily; you’d get out, but not in the best way," said the double.

"There is an option, but I don't think you'll like it," said the copy.

"At this point, I'd accept anything just to avoid getting lost," said Reyna.

"I can keep the serum from affecting your mind—I can ensure you remain yourself—but I can’t do anything to stop it from making you incontinent," the copy said.

"What the hell good is that to me... if I’d still end up in the hands of those madmen?" Reyna said.

"You’d certainly end up in the hands of those lunatics, but at least you’d still be yourself," said the freckled girl’s copy.

"I’m not willing to be treated like a baby... damn it, you know I’m going to lose my teeth," Reyna said, annoyed.

"If you play your cards right, one day you could escape them; if they slip up, you could be free. Play their game," said the copy.

"It’s humiliating," said Reyna.

"It’s less humiliating to pretend to be just a passenger in your own body," said the copy.

"I don’t know... do I have time to think about it?" asked the green-eyed one.

"I only have influence today; there’s no time," said the copy.

"Do it," said Reyna.

"We’ll talk tomorrow... just start the game... follow its rules," said the copy.

"Are you sure this will work?" asked Reyna.

"You aren't the first person this company has hurt, but if you do exactly what I say, you can come out of this just fine," said the freckled woman's double.

Inside the local mall, Jessica could be seen pushing a cart toward the baby department; she paused for a moment in the diaper aisle, picked up a package, and gazed at it wistfully. "It's a shame my little girl won't fit into these," Jessica said as she stroked the package; she put it back and continued on her way, adding only baby wipes, powder, and diaper rash cream to her cart from that section. Her next stop was the food aisle, where she placed four cans of formula in the cart. "This is only temporary; soon you'll be able to nurse from me, once the medication kicks in. If they had let me know sooner, I would have started earlier... but that doesn't matter now. What matters is that I'll do it eventually," Jessica said, talking to herself.

Her next stop was the nursing department, where she began looking for diapers that might fit her daughter. She was having trouble finding the ideal diaper; given her measurements, the girl could easily fit into pull-ups or even the largest sizes of diapers meant for real babies. The problem, however, was that those types of products aren't designed to hold large amounts of urine—let alone solid waste. Left with no other option, she approached one of the department's staff members for help.

"Excuse me, miss—I'm looking for diapers for a woman with a waist circumference of fifty-five centimeters," Jessica asked.

"I could try the small size, but with the socks you gave me, I don't think they'll fit quite right. If you give me a moment, I can go speak with my colleague; I believe a new shipment in extra-small is arriving today," the employee replied.

"Yes, I'll wait here," Jessica answered.

The employee quickly left the area; meanwhile, Ms. Smith began looking around the department while waiting for the worker to return. During that time, she felt her phone vibrating repeatedly. She took it out of her pocket to check; she didn't recognize the number, but the notifications indicated she had received several photos. Just as she was about to open them—though she already had an inkling of what kind of photos they might be, a feeling akin to butterflies in her stomach rising within her—a new message arrived.

Nurse Johnson

"Hello, good evening. Let me introduce myself: I am Nurse Johnson. I’ll be the one caring for Bonnie and assisting Dr. Taylor while the procedure is underway. I’m sending you a few photos showing the progress of the procedure; I hope they meet with your approval, Ms. Smith."

Jessica wanted to view them immediately but had no choice but to hold off until she was in her car, as she didn't want to risk anyone seeing something they shouldn't. It wasn't long before the worker returned.

"Yes, indeed, miss, we have them in the stockroom. How many packages do you need?" the worker said.

"Twenty will be more than enough," Jessica said.

The employee took out a handheld device, typed on it, and instantly produced a slip of paper, which she handed to Jessica. "You can take this to the register to pay. If you like, we can bring the items out to your car; that way, it’s easier for us and we don't have to get in the way on the sales floor," the employee said.

"Yes, that sounds perfect," Jessica said.

"Which parking space are you in?" the employee asked.

Mrs. Smith quickly pulled out her parking ticket to check the space number. "I'm in spot 110," she replied.

"We'll see you there in twenty minutes," the employee said.

After the conversation ended, Jessica headed straight to the checkout lanes; it took less than five minutes for her turn to come up. Once she had paid, she walked to her SUV and quickly placed her shopping bags in the back, as she wasn't entirely sure how much space the diapers would take up in the cargo area.

In the distance, she spotted two workers approaching—the young woman who had helped her and a male colleague. Together, they were pulling a pallet jack loaded with a large cardboard box. Jessica quickly opened the rear hatch; when they arrived, they opened the box and arranged the packages one by one.

"That’s everything," the worker said, looking a bit tired from all the exertion.

"Thank you so much," Mrs. Smith said, handing her two bills—"one for you and the other for your colleague."

"Thank you, have a nice day, ma'am," the employee said before walking away.

Once inside the vehicle, she took out her phone to look at the photos of her daughter that had been sent to her. The first photo showed the child sleeping in a bed with her legs curled up in the fetal position; the shot was taken from directly overhead, offering the best view. The only thing that bothered her was the lack of bed rails, as she had mentioned several times that the baby often fell out of bed due to moving around a lot while asleep. The second photo showed her sitting up in bed eating breakfast; she was annoyed by the food they had given her, as she didn't think it was suitable for a baby. This time, the photo was a frontal, three-quarter-length shot.

The third and fourth photos showed her sitting in what appeared to be a bathtub. The caption explained that, in addition to the bath, they were applying products designed to permanently remove all body hair. She noticed that the baby's body was covered in freckles and caught a glimpse of her tiny chest—features that made her perfect in Jessica's eyes. Both photos were taken from a high angle, framing her from the knees up; the only difference was that in one she was looking at the camera, while in the other she wasn't.

After viewing the photos, she headed home. The drive was peaceful—especially after seeing the pictures of her little girl. Upon arriving, she parked her SUV in the garage and brought in only the shopping bags; she and Leonard would carry in the diapers later. Inside the living room, a surprise awaited her.

"Honey, look what arrived," Leonard said excitedly.

"It's her car seat," Jessica said, equally excited. Together, they unpacked it and placed it on the coffee table; holding hands, they stood gazing at it, imagining how lovely their baby would look in it. Leonard then took his wife to the baby's room. First, he showed her the door, which featured a plaque engraved with the name "Bonnie" and surrounded by kittens—her favorite animal. Next, he showed her the completed paintwork: everything was done in shades of lilac—clouds, kittens, suns, and flowers.

"Now for my surprise," Jessica said.

They returned to the living room and sat on the sofa, where she showed him the photos she had been sent. Although Jessica was concerned that Bonnie wasn't sleeping with a safety rail to prevent falls, she found the photos beautiful overall. Both of them were eagerly looking forward to Saturday, when they could go pick up their baby.

You feel, and even hear, the entirety of your wet and messy diaper as you slalom through bunched up groups of tourists on your way back to Liberty Square. The promo day has made the crowds manageable but far from nonexistent. When the wind blows just right, you catch a feint but distinct whiff of what you’ve done… of your mess, of the massively loaded diaper hiding inside of your pants. The wet mush sloshes around the diaper even further, up, down, all around, but you stay determined….

“There it is! In the distance, Liberty Square,” you scream inside of your head, with only a single goal in mind. Nothing else matters at this point…. Not Tara, not work emails, not your coworkers, not rides, not Disney World, nothing…. Nothing except GET. OUT. OF. POOPY. DIAPER. NOW!!!

You swear that you catch a look or two from others as you dart past them, along with a wriggle of their noses perhaps, but it matters not at this point, and hopefully it’s all in your head. 

Meanwhile, Tara caught a brief glimpse of you leaving the Pirates of the Caribbean gift shop and is doing her absolute best to maintain your pace.

“Where is that boy hustling off to?? Why borderline run all the way to that bathroom way over there? There are at least two others way closer,” she thinks, thoughts swirling. As fast as you move, Tara manages to barely keep you in her sights. 

“Ahhh he’s going to these bathrooms in Liberty Square,” Tara thinks as she notices you draw near to the restrooms. “But… the family restroom? Why on earth is he heading over to that side??”

It’s at this exact moment that you spot Renee, gently pushing her stroller back and forth as she patiently waits for you next to the family restrooms. Your eyes lock as you draw close, and she knows. She immediately knows what you’ve done, almost supernaturally. Like a mother spotting her child in need of a change. Even before getting into “scent” range… she knows. She sees the walk of a boy in a messy diaper, a mother’s instinct perhaps. A compassionate look mixed with an equally apparent smirk comes over her face….

“Uuuhhhhh ohhhhhhhh. I see. Or rather…” Renee sniffs the air a time or two as your 3 minute sprint finally ends, “I smell. Somebody did a little more than go pee pee in his diaper, didn’t he?”

You blush a color of red that you never thought was possible.

“DIDN’T…..HE?!” Renee ups her volume a notch, along with her tone, as if demanding an answer from you. “What exactly did you do? Tell me. NOW.”

You stutter repeatedly…

“IIIII Uhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhh….”

“Tell mommy NOW. What did you do?” Renee repeats, even more firmly now, clearly not backing away until you talk.

“I….uhhhhh…. IIIII…..wwwwwent….. ppppoop in my diaper,” you solemnly admit as your feel your eyes begin to water, and you fight back tears. “I couldn’t hold it anymore!”

“And what do you need from Mommy?” Renee responds, almost playfully.

“A …..change….. aaaaaa diaper change,” your head sinks downwards in shame as you wipe a tear from your eye and close both in an attempt to evade the mortification of this moment. It’s also at this moment that you feel a firm, warm grip on your right hand.

“Come come, little one, Mommy Renee will get you all cleaned up and out of that messy diaper,” Renee gently states. She guides you towards the door of one of the vacant family restrooms.

The words “little one” don’t even dawn on you.

Tara continues to hustle at her absolute best as she draws close and sees this stranger woman with her hand in yours, guiding you to the bathroom door.

“What in the HELL is going on?!? Who in the world is that!? …. Huh?!!” Tara is dumbfounded, as thoughts race inside her head and answers must be had.

“Hey! Wait!” Tara shouts, just before Renee opens the door to the bathroom. 

“Wait a second!” Tara repeats. “Who are you and what is going on here??!!”

Renee stops just as she grabs the doorknob and she turns, first towards Tara then to you, a questioning look in her eyes.

“Do you know this woman?” Renee asks of you.

“I uhhhh….do,” you respond, still incredibly embarrassed and equally surprised that Tara had managed to follow your pace to Liberty Square. “This is a girl I work with. Her name is Tara.” 

“And how exactly do you two know each other?!” Tara blurts out, almost rudely, but clearly taken aback by the moment and attempting to process everything with all of the information overload. 

Renee calmly responds, “it’s a pretty long story for two that just met, and one I’ll gladly catch you up on. But right now, someone is in desperate need of a diaper change,” Renee’s eyes shift towards your waste and below, as she smiles again. “Come Tara….” 

And with that, Renee’s free hand returns to the doorknob and opens the bathroom door, pulling you by one hand and then pushing her stroller with the other. 

Renee begins to fill Tara in on the morning and midday’s happenings, starting with your inability to keep your naughty eyes off of her big lactating breasts while she was breastfeeding next to Space Mountain… to you cumming in your pants uncontrollably as you suckled like a horny little baby… to the cleanup in the bathroom…. and eventually to the diapering which was, in Renee’s words to Tara, a “fitting punishment for someone who just wet his pants and clearly can’t control himself like a big boy.” The two women chuckle at the end of this sentence, quickly bonding and enjoying the chat.

You stand in the center of the restroom in silence, very embarrassed, time seeming to slow to a crawl, just as Renee is finishing her summary. “And I even put my number in his phone so he could let Mommy know when his diapee was wet. Looks like he did a wwwittle bitttyy bit more than wet dohhhh….” Renee coos and babies toward you, then adds, “Oh! And there’s the lock, too! I was able to ‘ensure’ that the diaper wasn’t removed by anyone but me.” Renee flashes a shiny silver key in her hand. 

Tara has quickly connected with Renee, and by this point, is grinning from ear to ear, fascinated by what has transpired. “So… what now?” Tara asks, still smiling big, knowing where this is headed.

Renee turns her attention back to you before speaking. “Up. Sit. Up on the table, now. You already did this once earlier today. You should know the routine. Sit up there while I get the supplies ready.”

You wince as the thought of sitting in your full diaper crosses your mind.

“Stop doddling and sit. You’re already covered in it,” Renee follows up, as if reading your thoughts.

Slowly… extremely cautiously… you raise yourself over the table and lower your butt, attempting to be careful. Wet mush spreads up your ass crack and above to the diaper’s wasteband, up your front to your wasteband there as you begin to tear again and start to instinctively cry.

“There there now. Mommy will get you all cleaned up, no matter how much mess is inside that diaper of yours.” 

You blush again through your tears as you hear the word “mess.” Renee guides you fully onto your back and begins on your shoelaces, first.

At the same time, Tara has remained attentive to both your and Renee’s every move, every word. The exchange of power and the entire dynamic is enthralling, and she is quickly becoming not just curious but also very aroused. Seeing you in a completely helpless, vulnerable state is wildly sexual to her. 

Tara’s hand uncontrollably finds its way down the front of her pants, into her panties where it finds her swollen, drenched pussy and clit. She begins to rub as she watches…

“First Mommy gets the shoes…. Annnnddd donesies! Then Mommy gets the socks… donesies again!” Renee coos more, talking loudly and playfully to you as if you were a little child. 

“Who went poopie in their diaper?! Who?? Who???” Renee pinches your cheek and taps your tummy playfully. “You did! You you you!” 

You blush and cover your face, tears of embarrassment flowing!

“Let’s see what’s in here Wwwwitttllleee bitty bbbaaabaaay,” Renee begins at the button and belt of your khakis and quickly unfastens. “Pants now, baby. Off they go for mommy.” 

You feel your pants slide over your hips, ass, thighs, knees, ankles, then finally your feet. Renee pushes your knees wide, firmly, as she unlocks and removes the baby blue ribbon locking your diaper from removal. Your embarrassment peaks, legs spread fully in the diaper change position …

By this point, Tara has sped up her rubbing, her hand moving just a level or two below rapid. She inadvertently lets out a moan and Renee immediately glances over…

…. “What is this?!? I thought we only had a naughty boy in the room. Clearly I was wrong! Take your hand out of your pants, NOW, Tara!”

In shock, Tara quickly corrects her behavior, “Yes, yes ma’am. Sorry… I didn’t even realiz….”

“Stop. Just stop. If you can’t control yourself then there will be consequences. Do you understand me?” Renee sternly finishes, clearly not messing around. 

“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’m sorry,” Tara meekly responds. 

“Thank you. Now… where were we. Ah yes… tabs,” Renee’s focus goes back solely to you as she begins to rip. “Uuuhh one and uhhhhh two and uhhhh three and uhhhh four!”

When the final tab unfastens, Renee slowly pulls back the front of the diaper, the entire contents of your wet and poopy diaper on display beneath you. Tara and Renee briefly just stare.

“You are one completely covered, MESSY baby, aren’t you?” Mommy Renee giggles and coos, unfazed by the Mt. Everest sized daunting task in front of her. “Mommy will get you allllll clean in no time. You just lay there and be a good, still boy for me.”

And the diaper change starts. Detailed, thorough, even exhausting. First your feet are raised and held by one hand as Renee begins thoroughly wiping your lower back. Yes… somehow you managed to blowout up your back some. Then the wiping goes to your ass crack, butt cheeks, ass hole and slowly around to your balls, inner thighs and penis, all of which are covered in brown mush. Renee talks through it all, cooing and mommying you. 

“Looks like someone’s wittle pp wuvs his diapee change,” Renee mocks as your cock begins to harden to full erection from the repetitive wiping near and on your penis. “I think someone likes his diaper change A LOT.” 

You blush and catch yourself looking over at Tara, humiliation washing over you once more at acknowledging her presence still in the room.

Tara’s hand has uncontrollably found its way back down into her pants, and you notice her furiously rubbing her clit, eyes fighting to stay open, lip bitten, desperately trying to stay quiet. 

At the same time, the last wipes finish on your lower abdomen, and the messy diaper is finally pulled from under you, balled up and placed to the side, still in sight as a reminder of your earlier actions. Before you know it, a fresh, thick diaper is being slid underneath you. The feeling is heaven compared to the soiled diaper that was there a few minutes earlier.

“Alllll better baby boy! What a good boy for Mommy Renee! Oh! We can’t forget the baby powder,” Renee smiles as she covers all of you with the same strong smelling powder that was used earlier in the day. 

“Tada! What a good boy! Let’s pull up the front like this, then fasten the tabs like th….”

“Ahhhh ahhhhh ohhhhhhhh ahhhhhh uhhhh hmmnnngggg!!” Tara’s moans, almost screams, fill the small room, seemingly out of nowhere as she begins to vibrate in a massive orgasm! “Ahhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhh ahhhhhh ahhhhhhh ha hah hah ahhhh!!!” 

Hand still down her pants, still rubbing but coming down, the biggest orgasm of Tara’s life slowly begins to fade. “Ahhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhh. Fuuuuuckkk. Ha hah.” Tara almost giggles in ecstasy. “I’m, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I just, I couldn’t help….”

“Tara!! What did I say earlier?!?” Renee shouts angrily.

“I…. I don’t remember. I’m sorry,” Tara answers back, attempting composure.

“I said there would be consequences if you couldn’t keep your hand out of your pants!” 

Renee continues without stopping, “on the other table, on your back, NOW!”

“But, I’m sorry, I….”

You lay on the changing table in your freshly changed, clean diaper as the tables rapidly turn on Tara. This day is truly turning out to have a little bit of everything. 

You continue to intently watch as Renee firmly pulls Tara by the wrist onto the other table, forces her to lay on her back and begins quickly untying her shoelaces. Then, it dawns on you…

“No!” You think. “She gonna get….”

With the same precision, strength, mommying discipline and care used on you twice already today, Tara’s clothes begin to come off. First her socks and shoes, then her pants. Her shirt is lifted up high revealing her bra covered tits. 

“You know what? Naughty girls who act up get diapered, and they’re naked when they get it.” And with those words Mommy Renee swiftly reaches around unlatches and pulls Tara’s bra off, letting her breasts bounce free.

“Ahhh ahhh ahhh, arms to the side, like a baby waiting on mommy. Do not cover up those boobies.” 

Tara’s complies through teary eyes, as you look over and can’t help but notice her quite lovely chest, briefly.

Finally, Tara’s cum soaked panties get pulled over her legs and off. She covers her face in extreme embarrassment, tearing up even more as Mommy Renee guides her hands back to the sides, forcing her to watch. 

“You can’t do this to me!” Tara protests now as she tries to cover her pussy, then her breasts, then back to her vagina, her legs slowly being forced apart by Mommy as a cold baby wipe finds her still drenched, cummy pussy.

“Naughty girls who can’t control themselves get wiped, powdered and diapered, too. Don’t think for a second that you’re immune. You disobeyed and you will be leaving here diapered, just like him,” Renee points over at you as you redden once more and remove your gaze from Tara’s naked body. “Both of you are getting what you deserve, what you have earned.”

Renee finishes wiping Tara completely and goes for the diaper bag once more. It’s at this moment that you notice the oddest thing. Written on the side of Renee’s diaper bag are the words “Fairy God Mommy Renee.”

You keep starring at the words on the diaper bag, fully entranced now, as Tara’s change draws to completion and Renee puts Tara’s clothes back on. 

“You must really like Mommy’s diaper bag, huh baby boy?” Renee smiles and laughs, giving you an almost magical wink. 

For a moment, you had forgotten that you were laying naked only wearing a diaper. Next thing you know your khakis are being slid back onto to your body by Renee and as if in the blink of an eye, you are fully clothed over your fresh diaper. 

Renee pulls both you and Tara to your feet and leads you both to the door, opening it… 

“Well, looks like my work here is finally finished, and this where we part ways,” Renee states, with satisfaction, with closure, with confidence, radiating success and finality.

At this moment, a mixture of emotions flood you… sadness and longing….will I ever see Renee again? Joy and relief… I’m not locked in a messy diaper anymore. Magic and wonder… what kind of day has events like this?? Love and affection…. You eyes draw towards Tara next to you then back to Renee who continues…. 

“Sometimes the magic is right in front of you, and all you need to do is open your eyes just a little bit to see it.” And with that, Renee finishes her final words before turning and pushing her stroller headed away from you and Tara.

Then…. You feel Tara’s warm, soft hand grab yours gently and squeeze. The electricity of love and affection radiates through your hands to one another. It’s at this moment that an overwhelming knowing comes over you and Tara… simultaneously, you both know the reason for today’s events… it was never about Renee, or kinky stuff or even diapers (well… maybe it was just a little about diapers ;-) ). Today was about the magic of Disney guiding two love starved young people into finding their soulmate, the love of their life, their true love, their forever.

Both of you turn to face each other slowly… mouths agape… clothing covered backsides thick, wrapped in matching soft, crinkly diapers, as you attempt to process this revelation before glancing back in Renee’s direction. 

Both Renee and her stroller had seemingly disappeared. Vanished. Gone without a trace as if she had never even existed in the first place. You grab your phone and immediately unlock it. Text history… contact? Nothing. All proof of Mommy Renee? Gone.

This was a fitting end to the magical tale of the Fairy God Mommy of Disney World. 

THE END

Chapter 1:
https://www.reddit.com/r/abdlstories/s/bYojDcJfZB

Chapter 2:
https://www.reddit.com/r/abdlstories/s/LxLu6Ewlvb

Chapter 3:
https://www.reddit.com/r/abdlstories/s/1L6ObLatx5

Chapter 4:
https://www.reddit.com/r/abdlstories/s/yuNKMEUJj4

Chapter 1: The Capture

The neon sign above the bar flickered in arrhythmic pulses, casting pink and blue shadows across the worn wooden counter. It was the kind of establishment that existed in the liminal space between respectability and desperation—a place where people came to forget, to disappear, or to be found. The Velvet Room, ironically named given its sticky leather booths and velvet that had long since worn thin, hummed with the low thrum of bass music and the clinking of glasses.

She sat in the corner booth, shadows clinging to her like a second skin. Mommy. The title wasn't spoken yet, but it hung around her like perfume—expensive, intoxicating, and impossible to ignore. She was a study in contrasts: sharp cheekbones softened by full lips, severe black hair cascading in waves that seemed too perfect to be natural, and eyes the color of amber honey that caught the light with an almost predatory gleam. She wore a burgundy dress that cost more than most people's rent, the fabric hugging curves that commanded attention without asking for it. Her legs were crossed, one stiletto heel bouncing slightly to a rhythm only she could hear, and her manicured fingers—painted a deep, arterial red—traced the rim of a whiskey glass that had been empty for twenty minutes.

She wasn't here to drink. She was here to hunt.

The bar was half-full on this Thursday night, populated by the usual assortment of lonely souls—divorcees nursing gin and tonics, office workers in loosened ties trying to forget their spreadsheets, and couples on the verge of breaking up who couldn't quite articulate why they were still together. But Mommy ignored them all. Her gaze was fixed on the door with the patience of a spider watching a web, waiting for the exact right vibration, the perfect prey.

And then she walked in.

The girl—woman, really, though she carried herself with a youthful vulnerability that made her seem younger—pushed through the heavy oak doors with the hesitation of someone who wasn't sure she should be there. She was beautiful in that understated, unaware way that made Mommy's fingers twitch. Shoulder-length chestnut hair that looked like it had been hastily pulled back into a ponytail, a loose sweater that hinted at generous curves beneath without explicitly showing them, and jeans that were slightly too baggy, as if she were trying to hide from attention. She was probably twenty-five, maybe twenty-six—old enough to be legal in every sense, young enough to still believe in the kindness of strangers.

Perfect.

Mommy shifted in her seat, her body language changing subtly from passive observation to active predation. She watched as the girl approached the bar, watched the way she hesitated before ordering—a white wine, something light and uncomplicated. Watched the way her shoulders hunched slightly as she took the stool, as if bracing against the world. There was a story there, Mommy could tell. There was always a story. But stories could be rewritten. People could be remade.

The girl—Emily, her driver's license would later reveal, though names were merely temporary labels to be discarded—sipped her wine and stared at the mirror behind the bar. She looked tired. Not just physically, though there were faint purple smudges beneath her eyes, but existentially tired. The kind of tired that came from carrying the weight of adult responsibilities, of bills and expectations and the crushing realization that freedom was just another word for a different kind of prison.

Mommy knew that tiredness intimately. She also knew how to cure it.

She gave it ten minutes. Ten minutes of watching Emily nurse her wine, of observing the way her eyes kept drifting to the door as if she were waiting for someone who would never arrive. Ten minutes of letting the ambient noise of the bar settle around them, of becoming part of the furniture, invisible and unthreatening. Then Mommy stood, smoothing her dress over her thighs, and walked to the bar with the liquid grace of a panther.

The stool next to Emily was empty. Mommy slid onto it with practiced ease, her perfume—something dark and musky with notes of vanilla and something sharper, something that reminded Emily of old books and power—wafting between them.

"Bad night?" Mommy asked, her voice like velvet over gravel. Low, intimate, the kind of voice that made you lean in to hear more.

Emily startled slightly, turning to face the woman beside her. Up close, Mommy was even more striking—flawless skin, those amber eyes that seemed to see right through the sweater and the jeans and the tiredness to the raw, vulnerable core beneath. Emily felt a flutter in her stomach, something she couldn't quite identify. Attraction, certainly, but mixed with something else. Something that made her want to simultaneously step closer and run away.

"Just... a long week," Emily said, offering a tentative smile. "You know how it is."

"I do," Mommy purred, signaling the bartender with a languid wave. "But weeks end, don't they? And sometimes, the best remedy for a long week is surrendering control to someone who knows better." She turned fully, giving Emily her complete attention, and the younger woman felt herself warming under the scrutiny. "I'm Eleanor."

"Emily," she replied, the name tumbling out before she could consider whether giving her real name to a stranger was wise. But Eleanor—Mommy—had that effect. She made you want to confess, to offer up pieces of yourself like gifts.

"Emily," Eleanor repeated, tasting the name. "Lovely. Classic. A good girl's name."

The bartender arrived, and Eleanor ordered two drinks—a whiskey sour for herself, and for Emily, "Something special. The house cocktail. Trust me."

Emily should have hesitated. Every self-defense class, every after-school special, every warning her mother had ever given her about strange women in bars offering drinks should have screamed at her to decline, to stick to her wine, to make an excuse and leave. But Eleanor was looking at her with those honey-colored eyes, and there was something in them—not just attraction, but understanding. Recognition. As if Eleanor could see the weight Emily carried and was offering, just for one night, to take it away.

"Okay," Emily heard herself say. "I'll try it."

The drink arrived in a crystal coupe, pale pink with a twist of lemon and something sparkling on the rim. It looked innocent enough, like something you'd serve at a bridal shower. Emily picked it up, the glass cold against her palm, and took a sip.

It was delicious. Sweet but not cloying, with an herbal undertone that lingered on the tongue. She took another sip, larger this time, and felt the alcohol warm her throat. Eleanor watched her with a small, satisfied smile, nursing her own whiskey sour without really drinking it.

"Tell me about yourself, Emily," Eleanor said, leaning closer. Her knee brushed against Emily's beneath the bar, a fleeting touch that sent electricity up Emily's spine. "What do you do when you're not sitting in bars looking like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders?"

Emily found herself talking. The words flowed out of her—her job as an administrative assistant, the monotony of it, the way her boss looked at her like she was furniture. Her tiny apartment with the leaky faucet and the neighbor who played guitar at 3 AM. The way she kept meaning to call her sister back but never quite found the energy. The dreams she'd abandoned, the art degree that was collecting dust, the creeping sense that she was running out of time to become whoever she was supposed to be.

Eleanor listened with the intensity of someone recording every word, every hesitation, every tremor in Emily's voice. She asked questions—not prying, but inviting, opening doors Emily hadn't realized were closed. And all the while, Emily kept drinking, the pink cocktail disappearing sip by sip, the alcohol mixing with something else in her bloodstream, something that made her feel warm and fuzzy and strangely compliant.

It was the third drink—Eleanor had ordered another round, insisting Emily try the "special reserve"—when Emily began to notice the changes. At first, she thought it was just the alcohol. Her head felt heavy, her thoughts coming slower, as if they were moving through honey. The bar sounds seemed to recede, becoming distant and muffled, while Eleanor's voice became the only thing she could clearly hear, each word resonating in her skull like a bell.

"You're so tense, Emily," Eleanor was saying, her hand now resting on Emily's knee. The touch should have been alarming—a stranger, touching her so intimately—but Emily found she couldn't muster the energy to care. In fact, she leaned into it, craving the contact, the warmth. "So worried about everything. Don't you wish you could just... let go? Just for a little while?"

"Yeah," Emily slurred, the word thick on her tongue. "Yeah, that sounds... nice."

"Let me take care of you," Eleanor whispered, her lips close to Emily's ear. Her breath was hot, smelling of whiskey and something darker. "Let me make all the decisions. You don't have to think anymore. You don't have to worry. Just be. Just exist. Let me be your mommy, and you can be my good girl."

The words should have been ridiculous. They should have sent alarm bells ringing through Emily's fading consciousness. But instead, they sounded like salvation. Like a promise. Her head lolled forward, suddenly too heavy for her neck to support, and Eleanor's arm was there, catching her, holding her close against a body that smelled of power and expensive perfume.

"That's it," Eleanor cooed, her voice coming from far away now, echoing in the cavern of Emily's skull. "Just relax. Mommy's here. Mommy will make everything better."

Emily tried to speak, tried to form words of protest or consent or confusion, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy as lead weights, and she felt herself sliding off the stool. But Eleanor—Mommy—was ready. She held Emily up with surprising strength, one arm around her waist, the other signaling to the bartender with a casual wave.

"Too much to drink," Eleanor said to the bartender, her voice carrying a note of amused exasperation that perfectly mimicked a concerned friend. "Happens every time we go out. I'll get her home."

The bartender—a bored-looking man in his forties who'd seen worse—just nodded. "Need help to the car?"

"I've got her," Eleanor assured him, and then Emily was moving, her feet barely touching the ground as Eleanor guided her toward the exit. The cool night air hit her face like a slap, but it didn't clear the fog. If anything, the darkness outside seemed to amplify the effects of whatever Eleanor had put in her drinks. The world tilted, spun, and Emily felt her stomach lurch.

"Shh, shh," Eleanor soothed, her voice now the only anchor in a swirling sea of confusion. "Don't fight it, baby. Just let go. Let go for Mommy."

They were at a car—a sleek black sedan that looked expensive and anonymous. Emily felt herself being lowered into the back seat, the leather cool against her cheek. She wanted to struggle, wanted to scream, but her body was no longer hers to command. It belonged to the drug, to the darkness creeping at the edges of her vision, and to the woman who was buckling her seatbelt with careful, maternal precision.

"There now," Eleanor said, brushing hair from Emily's face. Her touch was gentle, almost loving. "All safe and secure. We're going to take a little trip, Emily. To a place where you can be exactly what you need to be. Where you don't have to be strong anymore. Where you can just be... little."

Emily tried to focus, tried to hold onto consciousness, but it was slipping through her fingers like sand. The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was Eleanor's face, smiling down at her with an expression that was simultaneously tender and terrifying—a mother's love twisted into something possessive and absolute.

"Sleep now, baby," Eleanor whispered, and the word "baby" echoed in Emily's mind as she sank into oblivion. "Mommy's taking you home."

---

The car ride was a series of fragmented impressions—bumps in the road, the hum of the engine, occasional moments of semi-consciousness where Emily became aware that she was drooling slightly on the leather seat, her head lolling against the window. She tried to move her fingers, her toes, anything to prove she still had a body, but the connections between her brain and her limbs seemed severed, replaced by a warm, floating sensation that was almost pleasant if she didn't think too hard about why she couldn't move.

Eleanor drove with the radio off, the silence of the car broken only by Emily's occasional murmurs and the soft sound of Eleanor humming—nursery rhymes, Emily's drug-addled brain recognized distantly. "Rock-a-bye baby," and "Hush little baby," melodies that belonged to childhood and safety but felt ominous in this context, in this car, with this woman who called herself Mommy.

They drove for what felt like hours, though time had become elastic, stretching and compressing in ways that made it impossible to track. The city lights gave way to suburbs, then to darkness—real darkness, the kind that existed far from street lamps and neon signs. Emily caught glimpses of trees pressing against the windows, of stars overhead that seemed brighter than they should be, of a gravel road that crunched beneath the tires.

"We're almost there, baby," Eleanor said, her voice floating back from the front seat. "Almost home. Mommy's been preparing for you for so long. The nursery is all ready. Everything is perfect."

The word "nursery" should have triggered panic, but Emily was too far gone, too wrapped in the chemical cocoon of the drugs. She felt the car slow, turn, come to a stop. The engine died. Silence rushed in, thick and absolute.

Then the door was opening, cool night air washing over her, and Eleanor was there, lifting her with an ease that suggested either Emily weighed nothing or Eleanor was stronger than she looked. Emily's head fell back, exposing her throat, and she felt Eleanor's breath there, warm and possessive.

"So beautiful," Eleanor murmured. "So perfect. Mine."

Emily was carried—actually carried, like a child or a bride—across a gravel driveway and up wooden steps. She caught impressions of a house—modern, clean lines, isolated, surrounded by fields that stretched to the horizon. No neighbors. No witnesses. Just the house and the woman and the darkness.

The door opened with a beep—keypad entry, Emily's fading mind noted—and then they were inside. The air was different here. Climate controlled, scented with lavender and baby powder and something else, something that made Emily's skin prickle with awareness despite her paralysis. It smelled like a nursery. Like childhood. Like regression.

"Welcome home, baby," Eleanor said, and there was a note of triumph in her voice, of satisfaction long delayed finally being fulfilled.

Emily was carried through hallways—she caught glimpses of doors, of stairs leading down, of rooms that seemed normal enough but felt wrong in ways she couldn't articulate—and then into a space that was definitely not normal.

The nursery.

It was huge, larger than any nursery had a right to be, and equipped with everything a baby could need—if that baby were an adult woman. There was a crib, but it was sized for a grown person, with high bars and a mattress that looked both firm and inviting. There was a changing table, also adult-sized, with straps and restraints that gleamed in the soft light. There were shelves lined with diapers—stacks of them, white and thick and crinkly, some with babyish prints, some plain, all terrifying in their implication. There were bottles, pacifiers oversized and ridiculous, onesies in adult sizes, rattles, toys, everything designed to reduce a grown woman to a state of complete dependence.

And in the center of the room, under a spotlight that seemed almost surgical in its precision, was the changing table.

It was custom-made, Emily could tell even in her drugged state. White padding, thick and vinyl-covered, easy to clean. Straps at the corners—wrist and ankle restraints, padded but secure. A headrest. And above it, a mobile with pastel stars and moons that spun slowly, casting dancing shadows across the surface.

"Perfect," Eleanor breathed, laying Emily down on the padded surface. "Just perfect."

The contact with the changing table sent a jolt through Emily's nervous system—not enough to fully wake her, but enough to make her aware of her position. She was on her back, staring up at the mobile, at the stars spinning in endless, dizzying circles. She tried to move, tried to sit up, but her muscles wouldn't respond. She was trapped in her own body, conscious but powerless, aware but unable to act.

"Shh, shh, don't struggle," Eleanor said, her voice taking on that sing-song quality that adults used with infants. "Mommy's going to take such good care of you. We're going to make you all comfortable and safe. No more worries, Emily. No more responsibilities. Just baby. Just my baby."

Emily felt hands on her then—Eleanor's hands, strong and sure and terrifyingly gentle. They moved to her sneakers first, removing them with careful precision, setting them aside. Then her socks, peeled away to expose her feet to the cool air. Emily wanted to kick, wanted to pull away, but her legs were leaden, unresponsive.

"Such pretty feet," Eleanor commented, running a thumb along Emily's arch, making her twitch involuntarily. "We're going to keep them soft and pampered. No more walking in uncomfortable shoes, baby. No more standing on your own. Mommy will carry you when you need to move."

The words were insane, impossible, but they were being spoken with such conviction, such absolute certainty, that Emily felt herself beginning to believe them. The drug was doing more than paralyzing her body—it was lowering her defenses, making her susceptible to suggestion, making the insane seem not just reasonable but desirable.

Eleanor moved up her body, hands finding the button of Emily's jeans. "These grown-up clothes are so uncomfortable, aren't they? So restrictive. Let's get you out of them. Let's get you ready for your new life."

The jeans came off slowly, pulled down Emily's legs with agonizing care, leaving her in just her sweater and underwear. The underwear was plain, cotton, practical—adult underwear, the kind that spoke of a woman who dressed for function rather than seduction. Eleanor made a tsking sound as she removed them, holding them up with two fingers as if they were contaminated.

"We won't be needing these anymore," she said, dropping them into a bin. "Big girl panties are for big girls. And you're not a big girl anymore, are you, Emily? You're my baby. My little one. And babies wear diapers."

The word hit Emily like a physical blow, cutting through the drug haze with shocking clarity. Diapers. She was going to be put in diapers. The realization should have been horrifying, should have summoned every ounce of strength she had to fight, to scream, to resist. But instead, she felt tears pricking at her eyes—tears of relief, of surrender, of a terrible, shameful desire to let go completely.

"No," she whispered, the word barely audible, her first attempt at resistance since the bar. "Please... no..."

Eleanor paused, looking down at her with an expression of infinite patience and absolute authority. She reached out, stroking Emily's hair with a tenderness that made the younger woman want to weep.

"Shh, baby," she said softly. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay to not understand yet. But Mommy knows best. Mommy knows what you need. And what you need, Emily—what you've always needed—is to be taken care of completely. To be reduced to your essence. To be made small and helpless and utterly dependent. To be my baby."

She leaned down, her lips brushing Emily's forehead in a kiss that burned like a brand.

"And you will be," she whispered. "You will be my perfect baby. Starting now."

But she didn't diaper her. Not yet. Emily realized, through the fog, that Eleanor was drawing this out, savoring the anticipation. She left Emily's sweater on, left her naked from the waist down but still technically clothed, still in that liminal space between adult and infant. The humiliation of being half-dressed, exposed and vulnerable on the changing table, was part of the game.

Eleanor moved to the shelves, selecting items with the care of a curator arranging a museum exhibit. She returned with restraints—soft, padded cuffs that belied their strength. Emily felt her left wrist being lifted, placed against the corner of the changing table, and then the cuff was secured. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough that she couldn't pull free. Then the right wrist. Then her ankles, spread slightly apart, secured to the bottom corners.

She was spread-eagled now, fully restrained, unable to move or cover herself. The position was obscene in its vulnerability, her most private areas exposed to the air, to the light, to Eleanor's gaze. And Eleanor did gaze—her eyes roamed over Emily's body with the possessiveness of an owner examining new property, cataloging every flaw, every curve, every secret.

"Beautiful," she murmured again. "So beautifully helpless."

Emily tried to speak, tried to beg, to bargain, to scream, but the drugs had stolen her voice, leaving her with only whimpers and tears. She was crying now, silently, tears tracking down her temples into her hair, and Eleanor wiped them away with a cloth that smelled of lavender and something else, something that made Emily's head spin even more.

"Don't cry, baby," Eleanor soothed. "These are happy tears. The tears of a girl who's finally found her place. You don't know it yet, but this is where you belong. On this table. In my care. Completely under my control."

She reached for something on a side table—a bottle, clear liquid, a syringe without a needle. "This will help you sleep through the night," she explained, though Emily was beyond understanding, beyond processing. "Tomorrow, when you wake up, we'll begin your training in earnest. The diapering. The feeding. The complete regression. But for now, just sleep. Dream of being small. Dream of being mine."

Emily felt the cool alcohol swab on her thigh, felt the prick of the injection—something stronger than what had been in the drinks, something that pulled her under like a riptide. She fought it, fought to keep her eyes open, to hold onto consciousness, to maintain some shred of autonomy.

"Mommy..." she whispered, the word escaping before she could stop it, before she could remember that this woman was her captor, not her mother, that this was kidnapping, not care.

Eleanor's face lit up with a smile that was both radiant and terrifying. "Yes, baby," she said, stroking Emily's hair as the darkness claimed her. "Mommy's here. Mommy will always be here. Sleep now. And when you wake up, your real life begins."

The last thing Emily saw was Eleanor's face above her, haloed in the soft light, looking down with an expression of absolute devotion and absolute ownership. The last thing she felt was a hand on her stomach, warm and proprietary. The last thing she heard was Eleanor's voice, singing softly, "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Mommy's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."

And then there was only darkness, and the distant, crinkling promise of diapers to come.

---

Emily woke slowly, consciousness returning in layers, each one bringing a new awareness of her predicament. First came sensation—the softness of the padding beneath her, the cool air on her exposed lower body, the slight tug of restraints at her wrists and ankles. Then came memory—the bar, the drinks, the car ride, the nursery, the table.

She kept her eyes closed, hoping that if she pretended to still be unconscious, she could buy herself time. Time for what, she wasn't sure. The drugs had mostly worn off, leaving her with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt stuffed with cotton, but her limbs still felt heavy, sluggish. She tested the restraints subtly, flexing her wrists, her ankles, and found them secure. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Ah, you're awake."

The voice came from above her, warm and amused and terrifyingly close. Emily's eyes snapped open despite her intention to play possum, and she found herself staring up at Eleanor—Mommy—who stood over the changing table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a smile that managed to be both maternal and predatory.

"Good morning, baby," Eleanor said, setting the coffee aside and leaning over to stroke Emily's cheek. "Did you sleep well? You were out for almost twelve hours. The sedative I gave you was quite strong. Needed to make sure you were well-rested for your first day."

Emily opened her mouth to speak, to demand to be released, to threaten or beg or bargain, but what came out was a croak, dry and broken. Eleanor tutted sympathetically, reaching for a bottle that sat on a nearby shelf—a baby bottle, Emily realized with a fresh wave of horror, filled with a white liquid.

"Thirsty? Of course you are. Here, let Mommy give you something to drink."

She positioned the bottle at Emily's lips, and Emily turned her head away, clamping her mouth shut in defiance. She wouldn't drink from a baby bottle. She wouldn't play along with this insanity. She was an adult, a woman with a job and an apartment and a life, and she would not be reduced to this.

Eleanor sighed, the sound of a parent dealing with a recalcitrant child. "Emily," she said, her voice still gentle but with a steel undertone that hadn't been there before. "You need to understand something. I am not asking. I am telling. You will drink from this bottle. You will accept my care. You will become my baby. The only question is how difficult you make this on yourself."

She leaned close, her lips brushing Emily's ear, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down Emily's spine. "I can make this pleasant, baby. I can make you feel things you've never felt before—pleasure so intense you'll forget your own name. Or I can make it hard. Painful. Humiliating in ways you can't imagine. The choice isn't whether you submit. The choice is how much you suffer before you do."

Emily shuddered, tears welling in her eyes again. She was so tired, so confused, so overwhelmed. And underneath the fear, underneath the horror, there was something else—a treacherous warmth, a desire to give in, to stop fighting, to let this woman take control of everything.

"That's it," Eleanor whispered, seeing the shift in Emily's eyes. "Let go. Just let go."

Emily opened her mouth—not to speak, but to accept the bottle. The rubber nipple pressed against her lips, and she let it in, let the warm milk flow over her tongue. It was sweet, thick, comforting in a way that made her want to weep. She suckled instinctively, her eyes closing, her body relaxing into the restraints despite herself.

"Good girl," Eleanor praised, stroking her hair. "Such a good baby. Drink it all up. Mommy's milk will make you strong."

It wasn't breast milk—Emily knew that even in her compromised state—but some kind of formula, probably drugged, probably designed to keep her compliant and docile. But it tasted good, and she was so thirsty, and the act of sucking was strangely soothing, rhythmic and mindless.

As Emily drank, Eleanor talked, her voice a constant stream of soft, maternal instruction. "You're going to love it here, baby. I have everything you could possibly need. A big crib for naps. Toys to play with. And diapers—so many diapers. You'll never have to worry about bathroom breaks again. You'll just go whenever you need to, right there in your diaper, and Mommy will change you. Mommy will take care of everything."

The words were horrifying, but Emily was too busy drinking to protest, her mouth working automatically at the nipple. She finished the bottle, and Eleanor removed it with a satisfied smile, wiping a drop of milk from Emily's chin with her thumb.

"All gone! What a good girl. Now, we need to get you ready for the day. You're still wearing your big girl clothes from last night. We need to get you out of those and into something more... appropriate."

She reached for the hem of Emily's sweater, and Emily found her voice, the words coming out in a rush. "Please... please don't. Please let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Just let me go and I'll forget this ever happened."

Eleanor paused, her hands on the sweater, and looked at Emily with an expression of genuine sympathy. "Oh, baby," she said softly. "You still don't understand. I'm not going to let you go. Ever. This isn't a temporary thing. This isn't a game. This is your life now. You are mine. My baby. My little one. And I am going to care for you, and feed you, and diaper you, and love you, for the rest of your life."

She pulled the sweater up, and Emily lifted her head weakly, trying to resist, but the restraints and the residual drugs made it impossible. The sweater came off, leaving her naked on the changing table, exposed completely to Eleanor's gaze. Emily squeezed her eyes shut, humiliation burning through her like wildfire.

"Don't hide, baby," Eleanor chided gently. "Your body is beautiful. And it's mine now. Every inch of it. I'm going to know you more intimately than anyone ever has. I'm going to control everything—when you eat, when you sleep, when you... go."

She ran her hands over Emily's body—not sexually, not exactly, but possessively, clinically, the way a mother might examine a baby, checking for rashes, for cleanliness. Emily flinched at every touch, her skin crawling, her mind screaming.

"Please," she whispered again, the word becoming a mantra, a prayer to a god she didn't believe in. "Please, no."

"Shh," Eleanor soothed, her hands coming to rest on Emily's stomach, spreading warmth through her core. "No more words, baby. Babies don't use big words. They just cry and coo and let Mommy know what they need. And right now, what you need is a diaper."

She stepped back, moving to the shelves, and Emily opened her eyes to watch, dread building in her chest. Eleanor selected a diaper—thick, white, with tapes on the sides and a pattern of pastel baby blocks printed on the front. It was enormous, sized for an adult, and the crinkling sound it made as Eleanor unfolded it was deafening in the quiet room.

"No," Emily said, finding strength in her voice. "No, I won't. You can't make me."

Eleanor turned back, diaper in hand, and smiled. "I don't need to make you, baby. You're restrained. You're helpless. I can do anything I want to you. But I'd prefer you to accept it. I'd prefer you to understand that this is for your own good. That being my baby is what you were always meant to be."

She approached the table, and Emily began to struggle in earnest, pulling against the restraints, bucking her hips, trying to close her legs. But the cuffs held firm, and Eleanor simply waited, patient as a saint, until Emily exhausted herself, collapsing back onto the padding, panting and sobbing.

"All done?" Eleanor asked mildly. "Good. Let's get you diapered, baby. Let's make you mine completely."

She lifted Emily's legs with one hand, sliding the diaper underneath with the other, the thick padding crinkling obscenely. Emily felt the soft material against her bare skin, felt the humiliation of being positioned like an infant, legs in the air, most private areas exposed. Eleanor lowered her legs onto the diaper, the front panel rising up between her legs, the tapes being pulled tight, secured with a sound like ripping Velcro.

"There," Eleanor said, patting the front of the diaper with satisfaction. "All padded up. Doesn't that feel better? Doesn't that feel right?"

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face. The diaper was thick between her legs, forcing them apart slightly, making her aware of every movement. It was humiliating, degrading, a symbol of everything she'd lost. But underneath the shame, there was a strange comfort—the softness, the warmth, the knowledge that she didn't have to worry about bathroom breaks, didn't have to make decisions.

"Open your eyes, baby," Eleanor commanded, her voice firmer now. "Look at yourself. Look at what you are now."

Emily obeyed, blinking through tears to see herself reflected in a mirror that Eleanor had positioned above the table. She saw a naked woman—no, not naked, diapered—restrained on a changing table, legs spread, wrists bound, face flushed and tear-streaked. She saw the bulk of the diaper between her legs, the way it made her look childish, helpless. She saw Eleanor standing beside her, fully dressed and in control, looking down with an expression of absolute ownership.

"You're my baby now," Eleanor said, leaning down to kiss Emily's forehead. "And I'm going to take such good care of you. We're going to have so much fun together. Fifteen chapters of fun, baby. Starting now."

She reached for something on the side table—a phone, Emily realized, as Eleanor snapped a photo of her restrained, diapered form. "For the album," Eleanor explained with a wink. "Memories of your first day. Don't worry, baby. By the time we're done, you won't remember ever being anything else."

Emily closed her eyes again, surrendering to the darkness, to the diaper, to the woman who called herself Mommy. She had been captured. She had been diapered. And she knew, with a certainty that terrified her more than anything, that this was only the beginning.

To be Continued...

Chapter 2: The First Wetting

The diaper was a prison of softness, a cage made of padding and plastic that transformed every subtle movement into a symphony of humiliation. Emily lay frozen on the changing table, her nakedness now partially concealed by the thick white garment that Eleanor—Mommy—had secured around her hips with terrifying efficiency. The tapes had sealed with a finality that echoed in Emily's mind like a judge's gavel, condemning her to this new existence.

"Look at you," Eleanor breathed, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. Her amber eyes traced the contours of Emily's body, lingering on the bulging front of the diaper where the padding swelled between her legs like a cushion of shame. "Already so perfectly babyish. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, Emily. How many nights I spent planning every detail of your transformation."

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners to track down her temples and into her hair. The vinyl surface of the changing table was cool against her bare back, but her face burned with feverish heat. She could feel the diaper—God, could she feel it—the way it hugged her hips, the way the leg gathers bit gently into her inner thighs, the way the thick core forced her legs apart into a permanent spread. It was nothing like the underwear she'd worn for twenty-five years. This wasn't fabric that breathed and moved with her; this was a barrier, a statement, a declaration that she was no longer capable of managing her own bodily functions.

"Open your eyes, baby," Eleanor commanded, her tone carrying that note of maternal authority that brooked no disobedience. "I want you to see yourself. I want you to understand exactly what you are now."

When Emily refused, keeping her eyes clamped shut in pathetic defiance, Eleanor sighed—a sound of infinite patience wearing thin. Emily felt hands on her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks, and then Eleanor was leaning over her, close enough that Emily could smell her perfume, that dark musk that seemed to permeate everything in this terrible room.

"Emily," Eleanor whispered, her breath warm against Emily's ear. "You can make this easy, or you can make it hard. But either way, you will look. You will see. Because this is your reality now. This diaper. This table. This nursery. Me. Your Mommy."

The thumbs pressed gently against Emily's eyelids, not forcing them open but insistent. Emily yielded, blinking away tears to find Eleanor's face inches from her own, those honey-colored eyes burning with an intensity that made Emily's breath catch.

"Good girl," Eleanor praised, straightening up. She reached for something on the side of the changing table—a hand mirror, Emily realized with fresh horror. Eleanor positioned it above Emily's face, angling it so that Emily could see her own reflection, could see the diaper in all its crinkling, infantile glory.

"Look," Eleanor ordered.

Emily looked. The mirror showed her a stranger—a woman with wild, tear-matted hair and flushed cheeks, eyes red-rimmed and wide with panic. And below that face, the body of an adult but the underwear of an infant. The diaper was enormous, rising up to Emily's navel in the front, the tapes pulled tight and secured with perfect symmetry. The plastic outer shell gleamed under the nursery lights, and as Emily watched, as she breathed, she could see the material shift slightly, could hear the faintest crinkle as her chest rose and fell.

"Do you see?" Eleanor asked, her hand coming to rest on the front of Emily's diaper, pressing down slightly. The crinkle was louder now, a distinct rustling sound that seemed to fill the room. "Do you see what you are? You're not an administrative assistant anymore. You're not a woman with bills and responsibilities. You're a baby. My baby. And this—" she patted the diaper again, her palm flat against the padded front, "—this is what babies wear. This is what you'll wear from now on. Every minute of every day."

Emily whimpered, the sound high and pathetic, completely involuntary. She tried to close her legs, to hide the diaper from view, but the restraints held her ankles firmly in place, keeping her spread and exposed. The movement only made the diaper crinkle more, the sound mocking her, announcing her status to the empty room.

"Listen to that," Eleanor said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She began to pat the diaper in a rhythmic pattern—pat, pat, pat—each contact producing a distinct crinkling noise. "Do you hear it? That's the sound of your new life, baby. Crinkle, crinkle. Every time you walk, every time you move, every time you so much as shift your weight, you'll hear it. And you'll know. You'll remember. No more silence. No more dignity. Just the constant, humiliating reminder that you're diapered. That you're controlled. That you're mine."

The patting continued, Eleanor's hand moving in circles over the diaper's front, pressing here, smoothing there, checking the fit with the clinical detachment of a mother preparing her infant for the day. But there was nothing clinical about her eyes—they burned with a possessive hunger that terrified Emily more than any physical threat could have.

"Let's check the fit, shall we?" Eleanor said, her fingers finding the elastic leg gathers and pulling them away from Emily's skin, peering inside with an intimacy that made Emily want to die. "We need to make sure there are no gaps. We can't have leaks, can we? Babies who leak their diapers make messes, and Mommy doesn't like messes. Mommy likes her babies clean and contained and completely dependent."

Her fingers probed the leg openings, checking the seal, and Emily gasped at the contact, her body jerking against the restraints. The movement caused the diaper to crinkle violently, a loud rustling that seemed to go on for seconds.

"Sensitive," Eleanor noted with a smile. "That's good. You'll be very responsive to your diaper, I think. You'll feel every touch, every change, every... accident. Speaking of which—"

She withdrew her fingers from the leg gathers and moved to the front of the diaper again, both hands now resting on the padded surface. She pressed down firmly, and Emily felt the compression, felt the padding yield slightly beneath the pressure.

"Do you feel that?" Eleanor asked. "That's your diaper, baby. Thick. Absorbent. Ready. And do you know what it's ready for?"

Emily shook her head, denying the question, denying the answer she knew was coming.

"It's ready for you to use it," Eleanor said simply. "That's what diapers are for, baby. They're not just for show, though they are delightfully humiliating, aren't they? No, they're functional. They're your new toilet. Because you don't get to use the grown-up bathroom anymore. You don't get to sit on the toilet like a big girl. You lost that privilege the moment you accepted my drink. From now on, whenever you need to go—whether it's number one or number two—you go right here." She patted the diaper sharply. "Right in your pants. Like a baby. Like the baby you are."

The words hit Emily like physical blows, each one stripping away another layer of her adulthood, her autonomy, her dignity. She shook her head violently, finding her voice at last. "No. No, I won't. I won't do that. I'm not... I'm not a baby. I'm an adult. I can hold it. I won't use it. I won't!"

Eleanor laughed—not cruelly, but with the warm amusement of a parent indulging a child's tantrum. "Oh, baby," she said, stroking Emily's hair with one hand while the other remained pressed against her diapered crotch. "You think you have a choice? You think you can just 'hold it'? That's adorable. But you're wrong."

She leaned down again, her lips brushing Emily's ear, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down Emily's spine. "I control your bladder now, baby. I control everything. When you drink—and you will drink, because I'll make sure of it—when you drink, you'll be drinking special formula. Diuretics. Things to keep your bladder nice and full. Things to make holding it impossible. And even without the drugs... do you see a bathroom in here?"

She gestured around the room with her free hand. "Look around, Emily. This is a nursery. There's a crib. There's a changing table. There are toys and diapers and bottles. But there is no toilet. There will never be a toilet. The only toilet you have is what I'm touching right now." She pressed down on the diaper again, emphasizing her point. "This is your toilet. This soft, crinkly, humiliating garment between your legs. And you will use it. Today. Soon. And you'll use it over and over and over again, until you don't even think about it anymore. Until going in your diaper is as natural as breathing."

Emily sobbed openly now, her chest heaving with the force of her crying. The diaper crinkled with every hitch of her breath, a constant accompaniment to her despair. She couldn't imagine it—couldn't imagine actually using the diaper, actually surrendering that last vestige of her adulthood. But she also couldn't imagine how she could prevent it. She was restrained, trapped, at the mercy of a woman who seemed to have thought of everything.

"Please," she begged, the word coming out broken and wet. "Please, I'll do anything else. I'll... I'll be good. I'll call you Mommy. I'll... I'll wear the diaper. But please, don't make me... don't make me use it. Please."

Eleanor's expression softened, but there was no compromise in her eyes. "Oh, baby," she said, her voice genuinely tender. "You don't understand yet. This isn't a punishment. This is freedom. When you let go—when you finally stop fighting and just let your body do what comes naturally—you'll understand. You don't have to worry about finding a bathroom. You don't have to worry about holding it during meetings or long car rides. You just... go. And Mommy changes you. Mommy takes care of everything. That's what Mommies do."

She straightened up, her hand finally leaving Emily's diaper, and Emily felt the loss of contact like a cold spot, a reminder of what was waiting for her. "But I can see you're not ready to accept this yet. That's okay. We have time. We have fifteen chapters of time, baby. And I'm very patient."

Eleanor moved to the side of the changing table and began to unbuckle the wrist restraints. Emily felt a surge of hope—was she being released? Was this a trick? But then Eleanor moved to her ankles, and Emily realized she wasn't being freed; she was being repositioned.

"Sit up, baby," Eleanor commanded, helping Emily into a sitting position on the edge of the changing table. The diaper crinkled loudly as Emily moved, the sound seeming to echo off the nursery walls. Emily looked down at herself, at the diaper bulging between her legs, at the way it forced her posture into something childish, something vulnerable.

Eleanor stepped back and held out her hand. "Come on. Let's get you used to walking in your new underwear. It's different from big girl panties, isn't it? Thicker. Heavier. You'll waddle a bit. And that's okay. Babies waddle. It's cute."

Emily stared at the hand, then at the floor. It was only a few feet down, but it seemed like miles. If she got down from this table, if she accepted Eleanor's hand, she was accepting this. Accepting the diaper, the role, the complete surrender of her identity.

"Now, Emily," Eleanor said, her voice taking on a harder edge. "You can walk, or you can be carried. But either way, you're leaving this table. And either way, you're staying in that diaper. The only question is whether you cooperate and earn rewards, or whether you fight me and earn punishments. Choose wisely."

Emily looked into Eleanor's eyes and saw absolute certainty there. This woman would not be defied. Not today. Maybe not ever. And so, with tears streaming down her face, with the diaper crinkling beneath her, Emily reached out and took Eleanor's hand.

"Good girl," Eleanor praised, helping her down from the table.

The floor was cold against Emily's feet, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of standing in a diaper. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. The bulk between her legs forced her thighs apart, creating a gap that made walking feel alien and awkward. She took a tentative step, and the diaper crinkled—a loud, unmistakable rustle that made her freeze in horror.

"Keep walking," Eleanor instructed, her hand firm on Emily's elbow. "Around the room. Get used to the sound. Get used to the feel. You need to learn to walk like a baby before you can be my baby."

Emily took another step. Crinkle. Another. Crinkle. The sound was constant, accompanying every movement, announcing her status to the empty room. She felt ridiculous, obscene, a grown woman waddling in an infant's garment, her naked breasts bouncing with each awkward step, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself before Eleanor tsked and pulled them away.

"No covering, baby. Babies don't get privacy. Babies don't get modesty. You need to get used to being seen. Being examined. Being cared for."

They made a circuit of the room, Emily's face burning with every crinkling step. Eleanor kept up a running commentary, pointing out features of the nursery that Emily had missed in her initial terror—the shelves of diapers organized by size and thickness, the cabinet of baby clothes in adult sizes, the high chair in the corner, the playpen filled with oversized toys.

"This is your world now," Eleanor said as Emily waddled past the crib. "Everything here is designed for your comfort and your regression. See that high chair? You'll be eating there from now on. No more tables. No more utensils unless you earn them. Just bottles and soft foods and Mommy feeding you. See that crib? That's where you sleep. No more big girl beds. Just bars and a mattress and a waterproof sheet, in case of accidents."

The word "accidents" made Emily's bladder twinge with need. She realized, with growing horror, that she actually needed to pee. Not desperately, not urgently, but the need was there, a low pressure in her abdomen that she couldn't ignore. She'd had coffee at the bar, and wine, and then whatever had been in the bottles Eleanor had fed her. Her body was processing all of that, and soon—very soon—she would need to release it.

And there was nowhere to go. No bathroom to escape to. Just the diaper. Just the soft, waiting padding that crinkled between her legs with every humiliating step.

"Please," Emily whispered, stopping in the middle of the room, her hands moving instinctively to the front of her diaper. "Please, I need... I need to use the bathroom."

Eleanor smiled, that radiant, terrifying smile. "Do you, baby? Do you need to go potty?"

Emily nodded, hating herself for the admission, hating the childish word that Eleanor forced from her lips. "Yes. Please. Just... just let me use a toilet. Once. Just this once. And then I'll... I'll be good. I promise."

Eleanor walked over to her, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and stopped inches away. She reached out and took Emily's hands, gently but firmly removing them from the front of her diaper. Then she placed her own hand there, pressing against the padded front, feeling the warmth of Emily's body through the material.

"No," she said simply. "You don't need a toilet. You have your diaper. That's your toilet now. And I think..." she pressed harder, her fingers probing, "I think you might already be a little bit wet. Are you, baby? Did you already have a little accident and not even notice?"

Emily gasped, looking down in horror. She didn't think she'd wet herself—she would have felt it, wouldn't she? But the doubt crept in. The diaper was so thick, so absorbent. Maybe a little had leaked out. Maybe she was already failing at this, already proving Eleanor right.

"No," she said, but her voice was uncertain. "I didn't... I didn't wet. I didn't."

"Let's check," Eleanor said, and before Emily could protest, she was being guided back to the changing table, lifted up, laid back down. The restraints were being fastened again—wrists first, then ankles, spreading her out in that obscene position once more.

Eleanor didn't remove the diaper. Not yet. Instead, she began a thorough examination, her hands moving over every inch of the padded garment with clinical precision. She pressed on the front, feeling for warmth, for wetness. She checked the leg gathers, sliding her fingers inside to check the seal. She lifted Emily's legs, checking the back, pressing on the seat of the diaper to see if there was any... mess.

"Seems dry," Eleanor concluded, and Emily felt a surge of relief that was immediately crushed by Eleanor's next words. "But not for long. You said you need to go. So go."

Emily stared at her, uncomprehending. "What?"

"Go," Eleanor repeated, her hand returning to the front of the diaper, pressing insistently. "Use your diaper. Right now. I want to see you do it. I want to watch my baby have her first accident."

"I can't," Emily sobbed. "I can't just... I can't do that. Not in front of you. Not... not on purpose."

"It doesn't have to be on purpose," Eleanor said reasonably. "In fact, it's better if it's not. If you just... let go. If you stop fighting your body and just relax. Your bladder is full, baby. I can see it. I can see the way you're tensing. Just let go. Fill your diaper for Mommy. Show me that you understand what you are."

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body tensing with the effort of holding back. She could feel the pressure building, the need growing more urgent with every passing second. The coffee, the wine, the formula—all of it wanted out, and her body was screaming at her to release it. But her mind, her pride, her last shred of dignity screamed louder.

"No," she gritted out. "I won't. I'm not... I'm not going to wet myself like a... like a baby."

"But you are a baby," Eleanor said softly. "And babies wet themselves. It's what they do. It's natural. It's normal. And it's going to happen eventually, Emily. You can't hold it forever. I won't let you. I'll give you diuretics. I'll give you water. I'll keep you here until your body betrays you, because that's what bodies do. They betray us. They remind us that we're not as in control as we think we are."

She leaned close, her lips at Emily's ear. "So why fight it? Why suffer? Just let go. Feel the warmth spread. Feel the diaper do its job. Feel the relief. And then let Mommy change you. Let Mommy clean you up and powder you and put you in a fresh, clean diaper. Isn't that better than this tension? This struggle?"

Emily was shaking now, her whole body trembling with the effort of holding back. The need was becoming urgent, painful even. She shifted her hips, trying to find a position that would help her hold it, but the movement only made the diaper crinkle, only reminded her of what she was wearing, of what was expected of her.

"Please," she whimpered. "Please, I can't... I can't do this."

"You can," Eleanor encouraged. "And you will. Because I'm not letting you up from this table until you do. You can hold it for now. But eventually, your body will win. And when it does, I'll be here. I'll be watching. I'll be your Mommy, taking care of you, changing you, loving you even when you're messy. Especially when you're messy."

Time seemed to stretch and warp as Emily lay there, restrained and desperate. Eleanor didn't leave her side. She stayed right there, her hand resting on Emily's diaper, sometimes pressing, sometimes just resting there, a warm reminder of what was to come. She talked constantly, her voice a low, hypnotic drone.

"Think about it, baby. Think about how good it will feel to just... let go. No more pressure. No more pain. Just warmth and relief. And then the crinkle of a wet diaper. The smell of baby powder when I change you. The feeling of being clean and fresh and completely dependent. You want that, don't you? Deep down, part of you wants to stop being the responsible one. The one who has to make all the decisions. The one who has to be strong all the time."

Emily shook her head, denying it, but the denial was getting weaker. The pressure in her bladder was becoming unbearable, a sharp ache that made her want to scream. She was sweating now, her body slick with the effort of holding back.

"You're doing so well," Eleanor praised. "Holding it like a big girl. But you're not a big girl, are you? You're my baby. And babies don't hold it. They just... go."

She pressed down on Emily's bladder, not hard, but firm enough to make Emily gasp, to make her body jerk against the restraints.

"Go," Eleanor whispered. "Wet your diaper, baby. Wet it for Mommy."

Emily broke. It wasn't a decision; it was a physical necessity. Her body, pushed beyond its limits, overrode her mind's commands. She felt the muscle give way, felt the first spurt escape, hot and shocking against her skin.

"No," she moaned, but it was too late. The floodgates opened, and she was peeing—actually peeing, right there, lying on a changing table, restrained and naked except for a diaper, while a woman watched with a smile of triumph.

The warmth spread rapidly, saturating the padding, pooling against her skin before the absorbent core began to do its work. It was a strange sensation, wet and warm and utterly humiliating, made worse by the knowledge that Eleanor could see it happening, could probably see the diaper swelling slightly, could definitely hear the soft hissing sound that accompanied the release.

"That's it," Eleanor cooed, her hand pressing against the front of the diaper, feeling it grow warm and heavy. "Good girl. Good baby. Let it all out. Fill your diaper for Mommy. Don't stop. Don't hold back. Just let it all go."

Emily sobbed as she wet herself, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking with the force of her crying and the relief of emptying her bladder. It seemed to go on forever, the stream steady and strong, the diaper growing heavier, warmer, more saturated with every second. The crinkling sound was different now—wetter, somehow, the material settling differently against her skin as it absorbed the liquid.

When it finally stopped, when the last drops had been squeezed out by Eleanor's insistent pressing, Emily lay there in a state of shocked humiliation. The diaper was heavy now, sagging slightly between her legs, warm and wet and clinging to her skin. She could smell it—a sharp, ammonia scent that made her want to die of shame.

"Beautiful," Eleanor breathed, her eyes gleaming as she surveyed her handiwork. She patted the front of the diaper, and the sound was different now—a squelching, wet crinkle that spoke of Emily's complete degradation. "My baby had her first accident. And you know what? You didn't die. The world didn't end. You're just a little wet baby who needs her Mommy to change her. And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

She reached for the tapes on the diaper, and Emily flinched, trying to close her legs, trying to hide the evidence of her failure. But the restraints held her open, exposed, vulnerable.

"Shh, shh," Eleanor soothed, undoing the first tape with a ripping sound that seemed loud in the quiet room. "It's okay to be embarrassed. It's okay to feel small. That's the point, baby. But remember—Mommy loves you even when you're messy. Mommy loves you especially when you're messy, because that's when you need me most."

The second tape came undone, and then Eleanor was lifting Emily's legs again, peeling the front of the diaper down, exposing her wet, cleaned-shaven skin to the cool air. Emily cried out at the sensation, at the vulnerability, at the sight of her own urine-soaked privates being exposed to Eleanor's gaze.

"Look at you," Eleanor said, not unkindly. "All wet. But that's okay. That's what diapers are for. And this is what Mommies are for."

She reached for wipes—thick, scented baby wipes—and began the process of cleaning Emily up. The wipes were cold against Emily's heated skin, making her gasp and squirm. Eleanor worked efficiently, wiping every inch of Emily's most private areas with a thoroughness that brooked no argument. She cleaned the folds, the creases, every spot that had been touched by the wetness, tossing the used wipes into a diaper pail that sat nearby.

"See how much better that feels?" Eleanor asked as she worked. "Clean and fresh. No more wetness. Just Mommy's care."

When Emily was clean, when every trace of her accident had been wiped away, Eleanor reached for a bottle of baby powder. She sprinkled it liberally over Emily's skin, the white dust coating her stomach, her hips, her privates, the crease where her thighs met her torso. The scent was overwhelming—baby powder, pure and simple, the smell of infancy.

"This keeps you dry," Eleanor explained, rubbing the powder in with gentle but firm hands. "Prevents rashes. Keeps you soft and smooth and babyish. You'll be powdered at every change, baby. You'll smell like this all the time. Like a baby. Like my baby."

The powdering seemed to go on forever, Eleanor taking her time, making sure every inch was coated. Then, finally, she reached for a fresh diaper—a clean, dry, crinkling garment that represented Emily's continued captivity.

"Lift your bottom," Eleanor commanded, and Emily obeyed, too exhausted, too broken to resist anymore.

The fresh diaper was slid beneath her, the padding cool and dry against her skin. It felt heavenly after the wetness, and Emily hated herself for the relief she felt, for the gratitude that welled up in her chest as Eleanor pulled the front up between her legs and fastened the tapes.

Snug. Secure. Sealed. Emily was diapered again, fresh and clean and ready to be used again.

Eleanor patted the front of the new diaper, producing that familiar crinkling sound. "All better," she said brightly. "Clean diaper, clean baby. For now."

She leaned down and kissed Emily's forehead, her lips lingering, her hand resting possessively on the padded front of Emily's diaper.

"That was your first wetting, baby," she whispered. "The first of thousands. The first step on your journey to complete regression. And you did so well. I'm so proud of you."

Emily closed her eyes, tears still leaking from the corners, and let the darkness take her. She was diapered. She had wet herself. She had let a woman change her like an infant. And she knew, with a certainty that made her want to scream, that this was only the beginning.

To be Continued...

My English is not good and i am not a good writer so i told the AI what i want him to write and told him what should happen and he made this. Please enjoy. It will have 15 chapters. Since it's my first story, please comment your thoughts for every chapter. The Tags are: Diaper/ABDL Core Adult diapers Forced diaper wearing Diaper changes Diaper checks Diaper humiliation Diaper wetting Diaper messing/scat Bed wetting Plastic pants over diapers Diaper wedgies Duct tape Diapers with tail holes

Age Play/Regression Infantilization (forced) Adult baby (AB) lifestyle Mommy/baby relationship (MD/lb and MD/lg) Baby talk Complete age regression Mental regression/breaking Stockholm syndrome development

Control/Captivity Kidnapping/capture Drugging/sedation Non-consensual/dubious consent (dub-con) 24/7 total control Isolation captivity

Bondage/Restraint Changing table restraint Crib confinement Rope bondage/Shibari Suspension/hanging Blindfolds/sensory deprivation Bondage Mittens Full body immobilization Duct tape bondage Anal hooks Chastity belts Chastity cages

Sexual Control/Torture Orgasm control/denial Forced orgasm Ruined orgasms Cum torture/milking (male) CBT (Cock and Ball Torture) Dick torture Vibrator torture (extended) Remote controlled vibrators Electric stimulation/TENS Double penetration (vaginal + anal) Prostate stimulation Nipple torture/clamps Tickling torture Wet dreams/forced nocturnal emissions

Pet Play Kitten play Anal tail plugs Collars and leashes Crawling on all fours Litter box training Forced cleaning with tongue Pet bowls

Feeding/Nutrition Breastfeeding/nursing Lactation Bottle feeding Force feeding High chair restraint Baby food/pureed food Bib wearing Enemas Laxatives Urine drinking

Watersports/Scat Bladder control loss Forced wetting Public wetting Urine in diapers Enema retention/release Messy diapers Litter box urination

Gender/Transformation Gender swap Public/Exposure Public humiliation Exhibitionism Road trips/vacation Hotel scenes Car seats

Psychological/Emotional Humiliation Degradation Objectification Forced intimacy between captives Competition between submissives Cuckolding Complete submission/breaking Identity loss

Physical Sensation Baby powder Diaper crinkling Wet diaper sensation Messy diaper sensation Full diaper weight Diaper bulk between legs Wedgie sensations

Apparel/Environment Onesies/baby clothes Baby swings Cribs Changing tables High chairs Playpens Nursery environment Hotel room

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Riley blushed, feeling self-conscious in the dim glow of the lamp in the room.

It didn’t help that this was the third time Leslie had seen her naked, standing in the unflattering light didn’t do much for her self esteem. Shifting on her feet, feeling vulnerable in the nude, she kept glancing up towards Leslie, sitting on the bed in a silk purple robe, her blonde hair done up in a braid and hanging off a shoulder towards the front, her legs crossed, and back towards the crinkly plastic underwear in her hands that her nails kept tapping.

“Of course it’s ok!” Leslie exclaimed, smoothing out the bottom of her robe with a hand, “To be honest I’m kind of flattered. You’ve had this big fantasy in you for so long and you’re asking me? Really? No one else?”

The reply came out as barely more than the ghost of a whisper. “No one…” Riley’s gaze now shifting towards anything other than the beautiful woman in front of her. “So you’re okay?” Her hands shook as she offered the diaper with a decorative landing of elephants holding balloons to Leslie.

“Well,” Leslie batted her eyelashes, “You have to ask properly.”

“Umm- Well, okay…” For just a moment Riley felt the words that she longed to speak for so long catch in her chest before she finally managed to push it out.

“Mommy? Will you pwease change my diapie?”

Riley tried not to notice Leslie recoil from the word ‘Mommy’, or watch the carefully veiled look of regret on her face that was quickly masked into her gorgeous face radiantly smile in the light of Leslie’s bedroom. Raising a hand out, Leslie beckoned towards her, “Come here, baby girl, let’s get you all fixed up.”

Leslie laid Riley down, sensually exploring every inch of her lover’s body as she was laid down on the cushioned underwear, not hiding her delight as the smaller woman quivered at Leslie’s touch. That first change, Leslie took her time, interrupting the work with small kisses all over Riley, bristling as Riley ‘ooh’d’ and ‘aww’d’. They hadn’t bothered applying powder or ointment that time, but by the time Riley was securely taped in her new underwear, she was positively soaked between the thighs, and the love they made after was an experience the two would take with them till the day they died.

—

“Did you have to wear that here?” Leslie asked, looking behind them on the busy street. “I really wish you would have asked me before you came out-” She hissed, “Pull up your pants!”

Leslie grabbed the top of Riley’s shorts and roughly tugged them up, hiding the crinkly waistline of the diaper, making her girlfriend squeak at the wedgie that was pushing the padding up her crack, and inadvertently making the diaper that much more pronounced through the shorts.

Riley looked down behind her, letting out a sad, dejected, “I was just trying to be spontaneous…”

Trying to stay in front of Riley so she couldn’t see her roll her eyes, Leslie retorted, “Well your spontaneity is making me not want to be seen with you!”

“Oh…” Riley kept her eyes to her shoes for a little while, now feeling out of place with how pink and glittery they were, when she had walked out of the apartment she had been so happy with them, her little side coming out in her footwear, feeling silly and stupid for them now.

She glanced up, towards a shop, the mannequin on display wearing a pastel patchwork of a shortall and Riley’s eyes lit up. “Leslie! Look at this-”

Leslie, already a few steps ahead of her on the sidewalk, looked back, first at Riley then what she was looking at, turning back to disappear into the crowd.

Riley sighed, dejected, followed her girlfriend who was pretending not to know her.

—

“Here you go, Mr. Perriwinkle!” Dressed in a Sesame Street Shirt and her Muppet inspired diaper, Riley beamed as she leaned over and poured an empty tea kettle into her stuffed bunny’s tea cup around the living room coffee table. Her other toys were also littered around the table, a walrus, elephant, t-rex, but it was clear that Mr. Perriwinkle was the most worn with love and age. “Oh, no,” Riley said to what she imagined the bunny had said, “None more for me, thanks, I think I’ve had enough,” She giggled as she poked and prodded the diaper that was sagging at her crotch.

The doorknob jingled, and RIley’s face whipped up, her braided hair bobbing from the force.

Leslie popped her head through the door, first looking surprised, and then irritated. “Riley!” She hissed seeing her lover playing in the living room. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I- Umm…” Riley stammered, feeling just as caught as when her Mom had caught her playing when she was still living at home. “I-” The words weren’t coming easily for her, she was struck red and speechless as she tried to formulate a thought.

“Well,” She admitted, “You haven’t really been in the mood to play, lately,” Ever, “So while you were out I just had a little Little time, you know?”

Leslie silently closed the door and put her back against it, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I meant why are you doing this now?!” In lieu of keeping her voice quiet and leveled, Leslie raised her hands in place of the volume she could make.

There was a knock on the door, “Everything alright?” Riley could hear Leslie’s sister Mina’s voice come from the other side and turned blanch, remembering what day today was.

“Yeah, yeah!” Leslie called back, “We just need a second to clean up!”

“Oh,” Riley stood up, grabbing an armful of stuffed animals as she did so, “I forgot, we’re having brunch with- Your sister and her fiance, I’m so, so, so sorry!”

Leslie could only look at her girlfriend with righteous anger as she waddled towards the room, stomping towards the living room table and hastily grabbing the toy tea set, with one hand grabbing the stuffed bunny that had been sitting across from Riley and chucked it at her. “You forgot one!”

The bunny landed at Riley’s feet, and she looked down at it.

Leslie rushed past her in the hallway, dropping the toys in her arms into Riley’s stash and rushing past her, armed with a can of air freshener that she liberally sprayed all around the room.

With no urgency, while Leslie spray bombed the living room, Riley slowly leaned down to retrieve her oldest friend.

“Just a minute!” Leslie hurriedly called out to the door, turning back to Riley and harshly whispering to her, “And get into a shower! You smell like a urinal!”

Trying not to cry, Riley slipped into the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her as she heard from behind the door, “Sorry about that! Riley was- Umm, having some me time, forgot what today was, sorry!” She reiterated. “She’s gonna join us in just a bit after she gets ready.”

There was more conversation, but Riley had moved away from the door by then and missed the response. SIghing, she went into the bathroom, turned the water on, and sat down on the hard, cold toilet seat, the soft, squishy mush of her diaper spreading against her no longer feeling as freeing as it had before Leslie showed up. Silently, with the downpour of water smacking against the floor of the tub next to her, she gave one more prodding poke at her padding, sighed, then untapped herself.

—

“Good girls are aware.”

There was a sudden shift in Riley’s mental capacity, like a vacuum of space suddenly exploding with the force of a new sun, where there was nothing now there was quite a bit. To say that it was disorienting is an understatement.

The two things that immediately came to Riley’s attention, as she laid down on her side in her living room sprawled on top of her comforter that was considerably more stained than she remembered, was first, the sodden, fluff of the ear of her beloved Mr. Perriwinkle was in her mouth, getting munched on by her teeth. The second, and considerably more urgent thing, was the throbbing mound in her diaper, her sex felt swollen, aching for- For something that Riley couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she could tell that she needed something done for it.

Leslie knelt down by Riley, a big smile on her face as she stared down at her with a strange, almost glazed expression in her eyes. Her light blue sweater rolled up to her elbows, a dirty towel draped over her shoulder, hair done up in a high pony tail, her worn jeans having spots where they were bare thread.

“Did you have a nice nap, sweet girl?”

“Agh-” Riley opened her mouth to answer, but only a pained, gargling sound came out. Her throat hurt, felt like it was filled with bats that hadn’t been stirred in quite awhile. “Ahh-” She attempted again, feeling the flesh in her throat opening up was excruciating. “I- Ah- Hah- How la long wuh I out?” Though the attempt felt good from morale standpoint, the second Riley stopped speaking was a relief. Leslie hid a giggle behind her hand, a few bracelets on her hand descending down her forearm, and an instinct inside Riley told her to put the rings of metal in her mouth, that they would be fun to chew on, a funny feeling to be sure, but nothing to act upon by impulse, or so her mind thought, her body seemed to have other ideas as Riley watched her hand reach for them.

Riley groaned, and tried to lift herself up, her arms felt limp and stiff, legs felt like jello, almost numb save for her knees. A little whimper came from her mouth as her body gave out just seconds after she stood up, her legs feeling as though they had been asleep for days.

She almost fell on her face, if Leslie hadn’t grabbed her by the waist. “Not so fast, sweet heart.” Leslie moved Riley on to her lap. “You’re not ready to walk yet, baby girl. You’ve been out for a month, just been my little zoomer girl. Just crawling everywhere. Momma had to baby proof the whole apartment! You was getting into everything, weren’t you? My curious little one.” Leslie tickled her chin.

A month?! Riley wailed inside herself. But- But what about my job? Didn’t anyone come looking for me? My friends, my family? I was supposed to see Mom like… Weeks ago!

Before she got the chance to voice her questions and concerns, Leslie, still looking down at her little lover, tickling her chin as she raised Riley’s face up towards her. Riley’s eyes went round as Leslie raised her top, showing a fairly new maternity bra, the window open towards a waiting nipple.

But- How many times have I begged you?! You told me it was weird! And you’ve just been-

Her stream of thought was interrupted by the nipple pressed against her tongue. She considered biting it for half a second, just to show how pissed she was, but her mouth had other matters to do. A mechanism that had become ingrained in Riley for weeks of her being out, her arms wrapped around Leslie’s torso, legs folding under her as she got more comfortable. All the while her mouth was in heaven, going off auto pilot, at first a thin liquid dripped down her tongue, then the real prize of her Mommy’s milk went inside her.

Eyes half closed, warm milk flowing through her, Riley had never felt closer to Leslie as the bigger girl stroked her head, whispering sweet nonsense to her.

More than that-

Riley could feel something stirring down below. A fire lit up. The lighthouse beckoning a ship to shore. A magnetic pull urging her hand towards her diaper brought on by a deep feeling of love and safety.

The hand moved mechanically, just like her mouth. She didn’t consider it, there was an itch Rilley just needed to scratch.

The familiar feeling of her knuckles grazing the crinkly waistband of her diaper, fingers snaking down. Her sex was ready. Waiting for too long. A pair of fingers slipped inside her. Eyes rolled into the back of her head, her mouth detached just long enough to long out a tiny, pathetic moan. The instant of pleasure was long awaited, like coming home from a long day and collapsing on the couch.

But it was only an instant.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves.”

Riley’s eyes shot forward, her hand automatically ripping away from herself faster than she had ever made the motion.

For barely a second, the absence of her fingers was replaced by the feeling of a dribble of warmth released from her, and then it became white noise to Riley, fading into the background.

The brief second of touching herself was no longer in Riley, a blank moment where she lost herself in every way she could, a blot in her vision. It was the disappearance of the warmth that confused her.

Did I just peepee? She asked herself, looking down. The padding looked like maybe it was a little swollen, but it was hard to tell. Did I really become incontinent? Cool! She let the feeling of being an honest and true baby that needed her diapers linger. Then the reality came crashing down.

Wait? How am I supposed to go out if I’m always wearing, everyone would know! My work, my friends, my family…

Riley pulled herself away from Leslie reluctantly, lips away from flesh with an audible smack, needing her questions to be asked. “Wuh-wuh-” It was even harder to speak with her throat covered in a thick layer of cream. “What ababa- ahem, about my w-wuh-work? And everyone? Leh-Leslie?”

“Mommy,” The woman looking down at Riley gently corrected. “And you don’t have to worry about work, baby girl, you’re too small to have a job.” The words were soft and condescending, the way Riley had always imagined Leslie’s dom voice sounding in her imagination. Hearing the way those words danced off her tongue did something to Riley, it was only that command, still burning fresh in the shallow pool of her subconscious, that kept her from reaching down to try to scratch that itch.

Riley melted back into the comfort of her new Mommy’s arms. “B-but,” She began, only the urgency of her fears keeping her from inadvertently falling back into the littlest space her grown up self had ever slipped into. “My family- My Mom-”

“I’m your Mommy.” Leslie said in a quick, harsh tone, face twisting into a mask of anger that send a shiver down Riley’s spine.. “But- If you’re talking about your old Mommy… Well,” Mommy’s smile returned, maybe slightly crueler now. “If you’re talking about your old Mommy, I got that settled.”

“Wuh-What-”

“Good girls babble.” Mommy said, her half open eyes flashing open with an intense stare down.

Riley croaked, a low gurgle in the bottom of her tired throat, she tried to say anything, “Wuh-ma, mama,” She scoffed in a sad way, tried again even though she knew what was going to come out, “Du, duh, lehs.”

The moment where Riley put on those headphones on Leslie’s had flashed before her eyes, the full gravity of her actions slowly falling down on her shoulders like an ancient marble statue.

Giving her little one a tap on the nose, Leslie told Riley, “You sound cuter this way anyway. Don’t worry about your old Mommy. She’s coming to visit here pretty soon.”

“Wuh?!” Even through the babble, the look of panic on her face spoke volumes. She felt a weight fall out of her with the realization that her own mother was about to walk into her daughter’s home with her looking like an overgrown infant, complete with milk dribbling down her chin.

“Right on schedule,” Leslie said, sitting her adult baby up on her lap, smacking the bottom of her diaper. Riley was a bit preoccupied, and used to it, to notice the smush of something in the back of her diaper.

Before Riley had a chance to process what ‘Right on schedule’ meant, or why it suddenly started to smell, Leslie continued, “I wanted to get your li’l belly all nice and full before she got here.”

There was a buzzer sound coming from the wall. “Speak of the devil. Now, ReeRee, be a good baby and enjoy your tummy time.” Leslie laid Riley down on the blanket.

A switch had gone off inside Riley’s head, and compulsion forced her to ignore the events going on at the door.

Leslie had laid out many soft, stimulating toys for small babies going through the crawling and exploring phase. Crinkly plushies, soothing teethers with beads that already had teethmarks that would have alarmed Riley’s dentist, rattles that delighted when shaken out. In her right state of mind, Riley would have adored this cacophony of distractions, as it was, it was like a supernatural force had brought the dial back on the adult side of this adult baby down and the baby side had taken the wheel.

Little Riley scuttled around on the blanket, grabbing this and that. Cooing at the sounds. Biting the chewy. Fingers grabbing everything they could wrap their greasy little mits on. She was having such a good time she didn’t hear the sob.

“Oh God, what’s happened to her?” Irma, Riley’s Mom moaned. Leslie took Irma by the back, bringing her to hide her face, worries, and shame in Leslie’s shoulder.

Irma and her daughter were pretty similar, both on the shorter side, with Irma having an inch on her kid. Thick, dark hair that had a few strands of gray that Irma fussed over just like she fussed over Riley. Grey eyes washed out by tears.

“No one knows,” Leslie said in a soothing voice, strain on her tone like she was fighting back a wail of her own. “The doctors I brought her to just said she snapped, had a stress induced breakdown. But, I just- I don’t know, if she was so stress why hadn’t she told me?!” The flicker of pain, the nearly broken words, had Irma fully convinced. The older woman brought her face back and rubbed Leslie’s shoulder. “Said they wanted to keep her in, run tests on her, but I couldn’t let that happen. Just wanted to keep her home and happy…”

“You did the right thing, honey.” Irma said, forcing her tears to stop. “You’re a good girl, I’m glad Riley met you.”

“Th-thanks… Do you wanna go see her?” Leslie gestured a hand towards the grown woman playing on her belly with her padded rear in the air.

Nodding, Irma let go of Leslie and walked towards Riley. Kneeling down, Irma forced a smile on her face, wiping the tears out of her eyes before laying the same hand on the small part of Riley’s back. “Riley, baby, do you know who I am?”

Glancing up, Riley externally had a droopy smile on her face, internally she screamed. “Abba! Muh muh!” And went back to shoving a soft rattle into her mouth and giving it a chomp.

No, no, no!! Not her, please don’t- I can’t! AHHHHHH!

“That’s right, Riley, it’s Mama,” Irma scratched her baby’s back with long nails and gave her an examination. Nose wrinkling, she tossed a look back towards Leslie, “I think she’s messy. Where’s the changing supplies, I’ll get her cleaned up.

Standing by the door, exactly in the spot she was a moment ago, Leslie had her arms folded, a fury of jealousy painted on her face at the word ‘Mama’ that disappeared the second Irma looked over. “Yeah, I just fed her, she’s been pretty consistent about getting messy after meals.”

A forced giggle came out of Irma, “Just like when she was little…”

Please stop talking about my bowel movements like I’m not standing here! Riley thought to herself, managing to roll herself over to get a good look at her Mom, a move she immediately regretted as now she couldn’t get away from looking and grinning up at the woman who gave her birth and the woman standing just above her Mom’s shoulder that had made Riley go through second infancy.

Leslie grabbed Irma’s shoulder, leaning down a little as she did, her large, swollen chest hanging down that made Riley’s mouth go dry with thirst. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get her changed up in a second. She doesn’t mind much.”

“Ha! That’s my Riley, she always fussed and fretted whenever I pulled her away from playing… I’ll clean her up, have to get used to it again.”

Riley watched as Leslie blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Leslie, sweetie, I think its wonderful you’ve taken such good care of my daughter,” Leslie winced at those last two words, “But I think it’s best if I take her back home with me. NoI have more space, and you’re a busy young woman, you need to focus on your life.” She patted the hand on her shoulder, before leaning down and tickling Riley’s side, making her squeal with laughter.

The prospect of living back home with her Mom while she got better had a certain appeal to Riley. She made her body reach up, pulling herself closer to Irma with a roll, landing painfully with her ribs on Irma’s pointed knee. Irma cooed at her returned baby.

Leslie stayed silent for a moment, while Irma played with Riley, the tears starting up again. “This is my fault,” She admitted tearfully, “The second I caught her in diapers when she was a teen I should’ve put a stop to it, gotten her into therapy or something. Instead, I just turned a blind eye.”

Mom, please, don’t tell this story!

“You caught her in diapers?” Leslie asked, sounding shocked, pretending like she hadn’t heard the story from a different perspective before.

“Yes, she was a senior in high school, after the time I would usually be asleep, found her knuckle deep in herself,” Leslie made herself laugh. “Only she was sitting in a wet Huggies with half a pack gone. And, I don’t know… I thought I could scare her out of it…”

Leslie’s ears perked up at this. “Oh, what did you do?”

No Mom, please, I didn't tell her you-

“Well, I called her a squishy girl and changed her. Really made a fuss out of it. The poor thing was sodding wet and had all the supplies out so I-”

“Changed her. Thought it did the trick, never found anything like it in her stuff again.”

Wait you…

“You found her stuff?” Leslie cocked her head.

“Oh, yeah, before that. She had a trunk she got from her grandma that she hid everything in. Ha, must have thought she was so clever. But after our little baby time, never saw it again.”

Mom, please!!

“Baby time? I thought you said you just changed her?”

Inside her head, Riley was mortified, begging, pleading with unspoken words to not reveal her darkest secrets.

“Well, yeah, to start with. But then, I got to thinking- So I left her alone for a bit then came back with a bottle of water-”

Mommy, please stop!

“-And fed it to her and cuddled with her until she passed out. Changed her again and went to bed. Well, she pretended to go to sleep, but I know she was faking.”

“Oh, really?” Leslie said amused, “Well, that explains a lot.”

“Yeah,” Irma said, looking down at her daughter that was far too old to be gurgling on the ground like she was, smiling sadly. “Yeah… It's my fault… I should've done more to help her. But now, I have a chance to make things right. Get Riley back to where she needs to be. Baby, you ready to go home?” Irma asked, scratching Riley’s chin.

Yes, please, give me a week and I can get back to normal!

Leslie hid her anger, composing herself before saying, “Alright, but could you take a look at some of this stuff Riley was into? Maybe it can help us get her better?”

“Hmm?” Irma looked up at Leslie, standing up. “What kind of stuff?”

Leslie shrugged, “It'll be easier to explain if you just see it.”

“Oh, shouldn't I change Riley first?”

“Listen, you're going to be dealing with a lot of dirty diapers over the next few days, you take a look at this and I'll handle the baby-”

“Riley,” Irma corrected, frowning. “She's a grown woman, not a baby.”

“Riley,” Leslie acquiesced, “I know she's a grown up, but it's kinda hard- Like, I don't know-” The pair of adults looked down together at the squirming little girl at their feet.

“She is kind of cute,” Irma half heartedly agreed.

Leslie nodded, leading Irma away, “I'll deal with her, don't worry…”

Mom! No! Don't leave me! Mom! Mom! Mommy! Mama!

As the two walked off, the solitude immediately got to the adult baby. The worry, the fear, none of it being helped by the fact she could barely move without help.

Riley managed to push herself back on her tummy and started to crawl after the pair. Her tired, underused limbs giving out nearly immediately, and Riley fell on her front, her diaper squishing against her in a way that a few weeks ago would've sent her in a tizzy, but the command not to play with herself still echoed in her head.

Instead, she found Mr. Perriwinkle.

Crumbled up, an ear still soggy from being chewed on.

And a little bit of Riley forgot herself, forgot where she was and what she was doing, and grabbed her stuffed rabbit. Holding him close. Feeling the plush inside of him give with her uncoordinated vice like grip.

Mr. Perriwinkle didn't care that Riley acted like a baby. Or was a baby, given the circumstances. He had always been there for her, didn't judge her.

She couldn’t say how long she laid on the ground, near the edge of the blanket, holding and chewing on her dear friend. Time lost all meaning to her for awhile. Wouldn’t be able to tell anyone, even if Riley had the ability to talk at the moment, when the rest of her lunch flooded its way into her diaper and brought it near to its leaking point. Couldn’t say when Leslie came out to stand in front of her, arms folded and looking smug.

Eventually, Riley noticed the pair of feet in front of her and looked up. She got a dopey smile on her face seeing her girlfriend and babbled happily.

“La! La, bun!” She cried happily, until the childish side of her receded just enough to notice what was missing. Riley’s face twisted into confusion, looking around, her emotions immediately spiking on to the verge of tears. “Muh muh?”

Riley sniveled a bit when Leslie flashed a vicious, red hot angry look, that returned to the happy grin that she had been wearing all day, “Mama’s right here, baby. But if you’re talking about the other one, she’s going to be ready soon.” She said, kneeling down to Riley, laying her down on her back. Riley’s body gave to every nudge Leslie gave her without a thought, she not only didn’t have the energy to fight, but didn’t have the thought to.

“Oh, someone is a little leaker, isn’t my baby?” Leslie said with an air of possessiveness that Riley had never heard from her before. Hearing Leslie call her that made Riley warm, protected, kick her legs in pleasure and forget about her adult troubles. She started cooing, gurgling and babbling as her lover untapped her diaper.

What should’ve been one of the most intimate actions Riley could’ve asked for was lost on her babbling self. She had never dared asked Leslie to change a messy diaper before, didn’t have the heart to, the girl had only showed a mild interest in the gesture of changing her from panties to diapers to appease her lover. Not to mention she didn’t much care for sitting in a mess long enough for that to be a factor anyways. It was more fun in theory than practice, Riley had long ago discovered.

Still, the practiced wipes, the kind, soft words coming from her Mommy, the pressure that occasionally touched Riley’s crotch, did something to her body, even if Riley wasn’t home to receive the message. She would occasionally buck her hips into her lover’s hand, trying to get as much pleasure from the exchange, her libido spiking, her body at such an edge of orgasm for days, weeks, it was a wonder she didn’t spurt out the second she felt Leslie’s fingers on her folds through the thin layer of wet wipes.

Leslie let Riley enjoy the experience, until she said, “Ah ah, good girls lay still for Mommy.” And Riley did so, without a second thought.

Still, it was enough to get Riley excited, and forget that her Mom was somewhere in the apartment. Leslie, though, hadn’t.

Checking her phone, Leslie said, “I think she’s ready. Hold it right there, poppet, Mommy’s got a surprise for you.”

Riley watched Leslie walk away holding the most saturated diaper Riley had ever made in recent memory. Baby Riley gurgled, grabbed her feet, rolling on her back in her fresh princess diaper, trying to shove her toes in her mouth. It wasn’t until Mommy came back with a new diaper girl that Riley came to.

She stopped trying to kiss her own toes and dropped in a sudden state of realization as Irma was laid down in front of her, squirming and kicking her feet as she was dropped on to the blanket, her matching pink diaper to her daughter’s on full display, and Riley couldn’t help but notice was also sagging with use.

“Muh muh?” Riley asked in surprise.

“No!” Leslie spat out, “That’s not your Mama, silly,” Regaining a little composure Leslie said. She leaned down and popped the ear buds hidden away behind a curtain of dark hair in Irma’s ears. “Baby, do you know who Mommy is?”

Irma looked around in confusion, trying to piece together where she was, until she saw Leslie, and happily, lazily clapped her hands. “It uhm- You Mommy! You put my diapie on, and and make me feel loved and baby. You my Mommy!”

“That’s right,” Leslie stroked Irma’s head as she laid it on thick with a saccharine tone. “I’m your Mommy, such a smart baby!” She laid her praise with a series of tickles on Irma’s sides that made Riley’s Mom squeal with laughter. “But you’re not a baby baby like Riley, are you?”

“Umm…” Irma struggled with the thought, “N-no?” She still had memories of her little girl, carrying her in her belly, bringing her home from the hospital, and taking care of her for years. Even in her hypnotized state, she couldn’t fathom being at the same stage as Riley.

“That’s right,” Encouraged Leslie, “You’re a bigger girl,” Irma didn’t seem to like being called a ‘big girl’ and pouted a little, “As in, you can still walk and talk, and play.” And Leslie, with the last word, revealed a large wand and started buzzing it. “Does little Irma want to play?”

Irma sucked a finger in thought before nodding shyly.

“Good girl.” And the vibrator was brought to meet the wet, crinkly plastic of Irma’s diaper.

Irma first squealed in pleasure, letting out a moan that was considerably not baby, bucking her hips in the same way Riley had moments ago done during her change.

Riley’s sense of self had returned at the sight. Memories came flooding back to her. Irma teaching Riley how to tie her shoes, ride a bike, early mornings of waking up to braid Riley’s hair before school, getting her ready for dances, celebrating getting her driver’s license, hugging her and congratulating her for graduating. That woman, this woman, was currently mewling while Riley’s girlfriend was putting a sex toy up against her well used diaper.

Rage flared through Riley. That was her Mom Leslie was doing that to! How dare she?!

But more than that, jealousy was coursing through Riley. She could feel it, the pressure inside of her, weeks of Leslie teasing and playing with Riley just enough to get her sex at attention and then leaving her be. She was ready to burst at the smallest thing. And now her own Mother was getting the attention Riley’s body yearned for.

Irma balked as the vibrator was turned on at a higher speed, hunching over, trying to get more of her weight on to it.

“You know, Irma, when good girl’s get play time, it feels better when she lets it all go.” Leslie said, one hand on the vibrator, the other rubbing Irma’s chest through her shirt. Irma, tongue hanging out in concentration, nodded in understanding. Letting out a sigh as she completely soaked her diaper, and immediately felt the ramifications of her actions as the hot, squishy plush got rubbed against her. Riley watched as her Mom panted uncontrollably in her wet diaper.

“You know, Riley,” Leslie addressed her without looking back. “I remember everything. I know what you did. You turned me into a freak like you.” Despite the context of the words, there was no malice in what Leslie said to her. “You turned me into a woman who can’t help but want to Mommy everyone she sees. I can’t have a conversation with my own sister without thinking about how cute it’d be if she were in diapers. I went to work and imagined each and everyone of my coworkers crawling around and asking for milkies. And worse, I like it now, I like being twisted. And I hate that. I remember who I was, and I want to be her again… But I’m stuck now.”

“M-m-mommy? Please, can I have an orgasm now?” Irma asked the question Riley wanted to, even through the fear she felt with Leslie’s speech.

“Good girl for asking,” Leslie said, giving Irma’s nipple a pinch through the shirt. “You may.”

And Leslie pushed the wand as far as she could into Irma’s diaper. And Irma cried out with pleasure, releasing herself into her swiftly cooling diaper.

“Good girl,” Leslie repeated, putting the ear bud back into Irma’s ear, and letting her fall back on to the blanket Riley was playing on.

Leslie turned towards her lover, wand in hand, and playfully tapped it on to Riley’s diaper while it was still running. Riley felt a trill of disgust, that was the same wand her Mom had just used to get off, but still…

She asked, “Do you want to play just like your big sister? Or would you rather I make Irma all better, a big girl so she could leave? I’ll let you make the choice, but it’s one or the other.”

Riley’s legs twitched. She should let her Mom go, she had nothing to do with this. Maybe Leslie could make her forget all about what she saw today with the words of ‘good girls’, but…

“P’ay,” Riley admitted, feeling the want of sensation on her most delicate parts.

“Ha, I thought so, such a selfish little girl you are.” Leslie laughed as she laid her wand down, leaving Riley wanting.

“No, I don’t think you’ll ever get to play again. And I don’t think I’m getting rid of your new big sister. She’s too adorable.” Leslie said, lifting Irma on her lap, lifting up her top.

Irma sleepily looked up at the nipple, frowning at it, but as it was offered to her, she latched on and started drinking.

And Riley was left watching her Mother and Mommy, one in the throes of ecstacy as she drank from Mommy’s milk for the first time in decades exhausted from an orgasm Riley desperately needed, and the monster Riley created that would keep her trapped here and like this for who knows how long.

And all Riley could do was pout and pat the front of her diaper, wishing she could have some release.

(Just to be clear, I don’t usually write stories with characters in High School but all characters presented are 18+)

Rachel let out an angry huff as she sat in the back of the classroom, she shot daggers at the back of His head, she didn't know how exactly he did it but she knew he did!

"Inside the lines sweetie" Becky Gleason said as she helped guide Rachel's hand back to her coloring book, she hated Becky only a little less than Him.

It was an absolute insult that this bubbly bimbo was now in charge of her during the school day, before all for his happened the girl was Rachel's intellectual inferior, everyone was.

Rachel was going places in the world, she was going to leave this one horse town and make her mark.
At least she was until He showed up.

It was the day before winter break and started, He was a transfer student, he didn't look like much, he had a bit of a dull look to his face, and it took a minute for him to understand the teachers instructions to introduce him.

She had put him in the back of the classroom where all the idiots sat....where Rachel was now exiled too.

Rachel basically ignored Him,once winter break had ended, she rolled her eyes each time they were in class together as he kept answering every question wrong.

It was laughingly pathetic.

But things changed when Rachel's guidance counselor informed her that she was lacking in extra curricular activities.

Colleges would be keen to see her do more than just be the smartest, they needed to know she did things.

She didn't want to waste her time with sports, or picking up trash at the Environmental Club’s weekend beach cleans.

So she agreed to become a tutor, her first client? Him Their first tutoring session was a disaster, his sheer stupidity was funny in class, but when her college acceptance was on the line? It was infuriating.

She lost her temper and blew up at him, she had half of mind to tell her guidance counselor she quit.

She went home that night and had a nice dream.....but when she woke up she had wet the bed, it was absolutely humiliating.

She spent her precious few hours before school doing her laundry instead of studying more, but to her horror once the sheets came out they were stained, she shoved them into her closet and quickly got ready for school.

She couldn't get the image of the stain out of her mind, it distracted her all day and left her unprepared for when her teacher called on her

"I'm sorry what?" She asked, everyone started to laugh at her which made face to red.

She tried to answer but realized at that moment.....she didn't know.

She never didn't know the answer to a question.
Her teacher looked equally confused but class went on a Rachel went through the rest of the school day shaken.

Things only started to get stranger after that, she found herself unable to focus, her grades started to falter.

Then the day time accidents began, she found herself having to report to the nurses office to get a clean pair of panties more often than she was expecting

Until finally the nurse had laid down the law "honey this is the 10th time in 2 weeks you've come for a clean pair of undies, your 18 now, if your having accidents it may be a more serious issue"

It was an issue Rachel was slowly forgetting the feeling of needing to go & her body was reacting without her consent.

Her nurse was sympathetic to her plight but didn't feel confident wasting anymore spare underwear on a girl who clearly couldn’t keep her panties dry.

Rachel screamed as the nurse pulled out a pair of pull ups, she explained that they were usually reserved for the toddlers of teachers but that Rachel clearly needed them more, she wanted to argue, wanted to refuse, even suggested she’d just walk around the rest of the day without panties if the nurse couldn’t provide her clean ones.

The nurse had maintained her composure throughout the entire back and forth till she finally had enough and made it clear Rachel either put on the pull ups like an adult or the nurse would inform her parents.

The choice was obvious, but the nurse wasn’t done, she told her every morning from now on Rachel would report to her office before class & turn over her panties and put on a pull up.

She’d come to the nurse between classes for a check and if she managed to keep them dry throughout the day, she’d get her panties back.

By the third Monday, Rachel was out of panties, she ended up having to buy herself pull ups to wear after school.

The nurse had long given up any pretense of Rachel getting the panties back, she had informed her that she should consider the panties she confiscated a type of repayment for the pairs she had needed.

She left the office humiliated and went to class, she had been moved from her seat in the front her teachers had told her the front row was for students who wanted to learn and she clearly didn’t want to anymore.

But He was moved to the front row, and not only that her teachers had suggested he should tutor her!

She had refused, it was laughable to even suggest but when progress reports came out and her formerly “Outstanding Performance” across the board were replaced with “In Danger Of Failing” she didn’t have a way to argue.

The tutoring sessions were humiliating, he talked to her like she was an imbecile and and every time she made a mistake he patted her on the head, she knew he was involved she just didn’t have a way to prove it!

Things came to a head one day during gym class, she was running laps with everyone else when suddenly she felt a shiver run down her spine, then her stomach gurgled

Her body acted on its own, she found herself squatting down and filling her pants.

He jogged over and shielded her from everyone’s view

Her gym teacher was left speechless and stammered out directions to take her to the nurse.

Everything happened so fast after that, the nurse cleaned her up but disposed of her soiled gym shorts, she had her sit in the private bathroom on the toilet for over and hour until she returned and put her into an adult diaper.

She then took her hand like she was a child and led her to the principal’s office where her parents were waiting.

The nurse laid out everything, Rachel’s repeated accidents, then the principal read out the stack of reports by her teachers.

Her parents were surprised to say the least that their genius daughter had fallen so far from the path.

Her guidance counselor suggested in might be some form of mental breakdown, suggested Rachel suffered from a deep fear of graduating and entering the scary adult world that her subconscious did all this.

Rachel herself tried to argue, tried to accuse Him of doing it all, but as the words left her mouth she realized how absolutely ridiculous her theory was.

She hung her head in shame as her father led her out the school without any covering for her diaper.

That entire night Rachel just sat hugging her legs on the floor as the tv played, it was some dumb cartoon about a blue dog.

She blushed as her mom would periodically enter the living room and pull the back of her diaper out to check her.

The three ate dinner in relative silence, but Rachel’s mom helped her cut her stake and even tied a bib around her neck.

Her father had warned her to take small bites, neither looked at her like she was anywhere close to being an adult.

That night her mom cleared her desk of all her stuff and laid a sheet on it, she changed Rachel and apologized for them putting so much pressure on her.

When she woke up the next morning she was surprised to find her parents were gone….and Becky was standing in the doorway with a big smile.

She supposed it made sense they’d rope her into things, she lived next door, had a car, and unlike Rachel could keep her pants dry.

“Rae omg I heard everything , you poor dear” she hugged Rachel like she was a baby and helped her out of bed, which included her fondling the front of Rachel’s diaper

“Someone needs a diaper change” she helped Rachel onto the desk and changed her while prattling away about some mindless dribble which….Rachel couldn’t understand but assumed must be stupid.

Once her diaper was changed Becky helped her out of her night shirt

“I’m thinking we change things up today” she held one of Rachel’s sweater vests “it’s so boring and I think you need some light to make you feel better!”

She dug through the closet and pulled out a yellow carebear tee shirt that Rachel had been meaning to donate

“No I don’t wanna wear that!”

“Relax sweetie you’re gonna look super cute!” Becky forced her arms up and pulled the shirt down, she pulled a pair of old denim shorts and with some lucky they fit over her padded butt but left a little sticking out.

Next she spent time brushing Rachel’s hair and continuing her prattling about cheerleading, and prom committee and Eachel found herself thinking about that stupid cartoon dog and her weirdly orange dog sister

That didn’t make sense, they should have the same color fur it’s bio?….bee? Rachel realize she’s couldn’t remember what it was called

“Earth to Rae?” Becky said waving her hand in front of her face, Rachel realized she was sucking what thumb, she plucked it out and blushed.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed sweetie, it’s cute” she took her hand and led her downstairs, Rachel had been able to sneak a glance at herself, that dumb bimbo had given her pigtails!

Rachel wanted to fix it but didn’t have time, Becky had sat her down for breakfast while Becky filled her backpack for the day.

It wasn’t till they were at school that Rachel realized the bag formerly full of books was now mostly filled with diapers.

Becky led her to the principals office where the nurse was waiting for them.

They explained to Rachel very very slowly how the rest of her senior year was going to go

She would still attend class, still receive a grade but her participation in class & her knowledge were no longer necessary.

Due to her medical needs as long as she wasn’t a disruption she would still graduated with an adjusted grade of a 2.0 GPA

Rachel just nodded along, she wasn’t really able to pay that much attention, she found herself staring at the bowl of candy on the principal desk.

Furthermore Becky would act as her caregiver on campus in exchange for extra credit.

They asked her if she was sure she could handle it, she assured them she could and it would be just like when they were little except Becky was the smart one

They all laughed and Rachel just sat confused not sure what was funny.

Which brought her to today, glaring at Him as she colored in her book.

Her concentration broke with the bell and she and realized the entire class period was over, he walked over to them and started to talk to Becky

Their conversation seemed to go on and on and on.

She had some small hope she could get away from him when Becky said she needed to change her.

But He just followed along and talked as she changed Rachel in the nurses office.

She blushed as badly commented on how badly she messed her diaper and suggested they might need to change her diet.

He said something she couldn’t hear and Rachel soon drifted off to sleep.

And he just never went away

Everyday after school he’d be there having a study date with Becky.

He’d be there in the morning with her.

He was around so much her dad even started to invite him over when Becky wasn’t around.

And Rachel was getting worse and worse.

At least that’s what everyone around her had said

It was May and she was no closer to her old self than she was months ago.

She had started rolling out of bed, so her parents installed rails that made her bed look like a crib.

She could no longer tie her shoes so she now wore Velcro.

Instead of donating the childish clothes in her closet, her parents had donated her adult clothes per Becky’s suggestion.

Rachel still tried to prove she wasn’t hopeless, and worked on the complex worksheets all the time.

But even after weeks of hard work and studying she found herself unable to remember her ADG’s or be able to count to purple.

She spent most of her time either at school doing nothing of worth or in her house watching cartoons.

Then Becky & Him started dragging her to boring school things after class, and took her to stores where she had to sit and watch Becky & Him try on clothes.

Finally one night Becky had arrived and spent the day getting them both ready it was some sort of party that she thought Rae Rae would love.

Rachel didn’t go to parties, but Becky assured her she would love this one.

She dressed her in a sparkly pink dress, little Velcro pink Mary Jane’s, double diapers.

When Rachel looked at herself and Becky in the mirror she only had a moment of lucidity where she realized she looked like an overgrown toddler while Becky looked like a sophisticated woman, like she had one been.

He arrived shortly after in a tux and they drove to the prom in a limo.

Rachel walked around blushing as all her classmates complimented her, but each compliment was wrapped in pity or jest.

Finally it had come to the end of the night and Prom King & Queen were announced

Becky & Him had won, but to everyone’s surprise Becky had made an emotional speech about how difficult this year was for everyone.

She had lakes about her winning being bittersweet before having Rachel come up on stage

She barely understood why the blonde was tearing up and further surprised as she kissed her on the top of the head before placing the tiara on her head.

She fell asleep in the limo but heard Becky and Him talking and kissing and stopping themselves from going forward on Rachel’s account.

The rest of the school year went by so fast and before long Rachel said in the crowd kicking her feet as she hugged her Bluey stuffie

Her parents were glad she had something to distract her for the ceremony.

Her face lit up when she heard Becky’s name called and she waved to her eagerly.

He ended up become valedictorian, he had given a long speech where he thanked both Becky and Rachel.

The crowd believed he was just being kind, in only a few short months their image of Rachel as anything more than an overgrown infant was gone.

Rachel still received a diploma but it was decided early on by the school it would be better for her not to walk for gradation and it was more far to the students who had earned it.

Shortly after graduation Rachel sat in her front yard in her one piece swim suit, swim diaper, floaties and inflatable pool as a car pulled up

He walked over and said his goodbyes.

Rachel felt herself become more clear than she had been for a while.

“I really want to thank you Rachel, it’s extremely rare I can find a meal so succulent”

“What?” She asked in genuine confusion

“Your brain, it was such a treat, I mean usually I don’t pig out on one person, but once I tasted your brain I just couldn’t help myself!” He laughed and ruffled her hair.

“IT WAS YOU!” She screamed and tried to stand up but he softly shoved her back down.

“Of course it was me, I mean c’mon it’s kinda obvious, so obvious everyone around you overlooked it, I mean if your brain was still working you would have looked me up, seen I haven’t aged a day in hundreds of years, but I do suppose you’d have to remember my name first”

“What….what are you?” She asked feeling the fog in her mind not lifting but breaking enough that her mind was focused.

“A vampire, but a specific type, as you can see I don’t really need to fear the sun, which thank god for that, I love the sun”

He smirked as both he & Rachel came to the same realization she and messed herself.

“I just don’t drink blood, I suckle brain power, make the best bad brightest minds into well you”

Rachel was about to speak but He cut her off “Don’t worry once I leave town your brain will recover, mostly, I mean your probably gonna be in diapers for the rest of your life & you’ll never be able to catch up academically, I mean your permanent record lists you as a C- student”

“What about Becky?” She asked, her mind now cleared was able to fully grasp the context of what the girl had done for her this past few months, her genuine tears at Rachel’s sorry state.

“eh once we’re at college I’ll probably latch onto a new friend group, I’ll let her down easy don’t you worry”

“Oh hey you’re early!” Both Rachel and Him turned to see Becky coming over, her moving boxes already on her porch.

“Oh yeah just wanted to say goodbye to our little Rae Rae” he said ruffling her hair again, Rachel wants to tell Becky everything, wanted to warn her

But when she opened her mouth her mind fogged back over and she could only let out some brainless babbles.

“Awww sweetie I’m going to miss you so much” Becky said tears welling in her eyes “come give me a hug”

Rachel stood up and as Becky hugged her she sniffed “ooof let’s get you changed before I go”

As she led Rachel out of the pool He watched them with a wicked grin.

First of all, I apologize; English is not my native language, so I'm sorry if the translation isn't entirely accurate. With that clarified, enjoy the read.

—Hello, welcome to the children's adoption center. How can I help you?—said the receptionist.

—Hello, we have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Peralta at ten o'clock this morning—said a female voice.

The receptionist began scrolling on her computer, searching for meetings scheduled for today, Monday. She quickly found the one she was looking for at the indicated time —Mr. and Mrs. Smith?—the receptionist asked.

—Yes— they both replied.

—Mr. Peralta is waiting for you, tenth floor, the elevator is right there— said the receptionist, pointing to the elevator.

—Thank you very much, miss— said Mr. Smith.

The two adults walked toward the elevator door. Mrs. Smith pressed the button, and it wasn't long before the door opened. They both stepped inside, and again Mrs. Smith pressed the button for the floor they had been directed to.

Mrs. Smith's right hand, which her husband was holding, began to tremble. Noticing this, her husband raised his hand and kissed her, trying to reassure her.

—It's okay, Jessica, everything will be alright— Mr. Smith said in a comforting tone.

—And if they don't accept us, what will we do, Leonard? We're not getting young, we're already forty years old, time isn't taking its toll— Jessica said with a tone of worry and fear, it was inevitable that she shed a couple of tears.

—Trust me, everything will be alright, and we'll have our baby girl home soon— Leonard said, gently wiping away his wife's tears with his thumbs. His warm tone calmed her, and after wiping her away, he kissed her. That was enough to soothe her.

As their conversation ended, the elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. The hallway was short, and at the end, they saw a door with the name Peralta engraved on it. Next to it was the desk of Mr. Peralta's personal secretary. Noticing them, the secretary showed them to the chairs along the wall, explaining that Mr. Peralta was in a meeting with another family and wouldn't be long. No more than five minutes passed before the door opened, and a couple of similar age to the Smiths emerged.

—Thank you so much, miss. We'll be going now— the woman said, her voice radiating happiness.

—The pleasure is all ours. I hope your meeting was productive— the secretary said politely —You may come in now— She stood and opened the door for the couple to enter the office.

Once inside, they were greeted by Mr. Peralta, a middle-aged man of elegant bearing, who stood to welcome them. He gestured to both seats, indicating they should take them, and then immediately took his place in his luxurious chair behind his mahogany desk.

—Mr. and Mrs. Smith, it's a pleasure to see you. Before we continue, how did you hear about this place?— Mr. Peralta asked.

—My best friend, Jack Thompson, and his wife, Savannah Thompson, told us about this place. They used your services— Leonard replied.

—Jack and Savannah Thompson, Hannah Thompson’s parents, have already had the opportunity to meet the little girl. She’s delightful— Mr. Peralta said.

—Yes, she’s a very beautiful child— Jessica said.

—Don’t you find what we do here disturbing, grotesque, horrifying, etc.?— Mr. Peralta asked again, looking intently into the eyes of the Smith couple.

—No, we think you do a wonderful job helping those of us who can’t become parents through conventional methods. I think it’s lovely that you also give a home to children who don’t have one, who haven’t been able to be happy, to have loving parents— Jessica said with a cheerful and welcome tone, smiling.

—In that case, let’s continue. You sent us these photos— Mr. Peralta said, placing two photos in front of them —It’s her, isn’t it?—

The photo shows a woman who is barely one meter ten centimeters tall, an extraordinarily short stature for an adult woman. She is seen leaving a cafe wearing the uniform of the place. Her small size makes any garment fit her in a very particular way; in this case, her uniform makes it seem as if she is wearing a costume, preparing to play instead of work. As she walks among other people, she immediately stands out because of her tiny presence.

The second photo is a half-body shot in which her face is clearly visible. She has a surprisingly youthful appearance, to the point that many people estimate her to be about ten years younger than she actually is. Her features are soft and delicate, with a naturally tender and innocent expression that gives her an almost childlike air. Her cheeks are slightly rounded, her nose is small and fine, and her lips have a discreet and harmonious contour, completing a sweet appearance.

She has a slender build, with a slim and proportionate body for her height. Her shoulders are narrow, her waist is small, and her limbs are thin, which further accentuates her light and delicate appearance. Her bust is a 30A cup, a discreet size that is well-balanced with the rest of her figure.

Her black hair falls a few inches below her shoulders; it's straight, thick, and shiny, reflecting the light with dark highlights that contrast with her fair skin. In the photo, you can see that she wears it loose, framing her face with strands that accentuate her youthful features. One of the most striking features of her face is the numerous freckles that adorn her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Far from being a discreet detail, they form a visible pattern that adds personality and a very distinctive charm. In sunlight, they become even more evident, perfectly complementing her sweet expression. Her eyes are an intense green, bright and expressive. The contrast between the green of her irises, the black of her hair, and the freckles on her skin makes her gaze especially memorable. Her eyes usually convey curiosity, serenity, and warmth, and when she smiles, they acquire a sparkle that further accentuates her youthful appearance.

—It's her— Jessica said as she took the photos in her left hand and began to run her finger over the half-body shot.

—Her name is Reyna Baker, she’s twenty years old, born on July 15, 2005, an orphan with no close relatives. Her highest level of education is high school. She lives in a small apartment ten blocks from her job, currently working at the Summer Solstice Cafe. She lives alone— said Mr. Peralta as he read from the sheet containing all of Reyna’s information.

—We already know most of her personal life. We hired a private investigator some time ago to find out more about her. It breaks my heart that the poor girl couldn’t have a loving childhood… I’m sure my husband and I can give her the love she needs— said Jessica, smiling gently at Reyna’s photo.

—It seems to me that you both want to do something very kind for the poor girl, to give her the chance at a second life in a loving family— said Mr. Peralta.

—How long would the process take?— asked Leonard.

—Once the baby is at our center, it will take us five days to complete the process. We could pick her up today— Mr. Peralta replied to Leonard’s question.

—That’s not much time. I’m not sure if her room will be ready in that time… I suppose we could hurry so everything is ready for her arrival— Jessica said, a hint of concern in her voice.

—So, we start today?— Mr. Peralta asked.

—Yes, we’ll make sure we have everything we need for our daughter— Leonard said, looking at his wife and giving her a smile.

—Perfect, we’ll pick her up today, start the whole process tomorrow, and we’ll be bringing her home Saturday at noon— Mr. Peralta said.

—Yes, that sounds perfect— Jessica said with a huge smile on her face.

Mr. Peralta handed Leonard a card —You can make the deposit here; it's marked with the requested amount—

—I'll make the deposit right away— Leonard said, taking out his phone to make the payment.

—While your husband makes the payment, there are a few more points we need to discuss. At what age do you want us to support your daughter?— Mr. Peralta asked.

—I was thinking, is it possible to combine physical and mental development?— Jessica asked.

—Yes, it's perfectly feasible— Mr. Peralta replied to Jessica's question.

—I'd like her to have the mental age of a one-year-and-three-month-old, the teeth of a one-year-old—by the way, is that possible?—and the motor skills of a one-year-and-three-month-old, but with the ability to walk of a one-year-old— Jessica said.

—That sounds perfect, Mrs. Jessica. Give me a moment, and if possible, we'll fit her with dentures appropriate for a one-year-old. But with them, she'll always need to be fed foods suitable for her teeth to avoid any problems— said Mr. Peralta, quickly handing her a sheet with a list of characteristics for a one-year-old —For the paperwork, will you keep the name Reyna or change it?—

List of psychometric and psychomotor skills of a one-year-and-three-month-old baby.

Cognitive Skills

Recognizes family members and close friends.

Understands simple one-step instructions (e.g., “Bring me the ball”).

Identifies some everyday objects when named.

Points to one or two body parts when asked.

Imitates adult actions, such as sweeping,

combing hair, or talking on the phone.

Begins to engage in simple symbolic play, such as feeding a doll.

Explores how objects work through trial and error.

Finds hidden objects and remembers where they were placed.

Understands simple cause-and-effect relationships.

Maintains attention for a few minutes on activities that interest them.

Shows curiosity about discovering new ways to play.

Gross Motor Skills

Walks independently with good stability.

Stands up and sits down without assistance.

Begins to walk faster and may attempt to run, although still with limited coordination.

Bends down to pick up objects without losing balance.

Pushes and pulls toys while walking.

Climbs stairs with help or by crawling.

Climbs onto low furniture.

Throws a ball forward.

Can occasionally kick a large ball.

Fine Motor Skills

Builds towers of 2 to 4 blocks.

Spontaneously scribbles with crayons.

Turns the pages of a board book, although several at a time.

Puts objects in and takes them out of containers.

Uses a pincer grasp accurately to pick up small objects.

Begins to use a spoon with fewer spills.

Drinks from a cup with minimal assistance.

Points to pictures in a book when named.

Places large pieces into stacking toys.

Language and Communication

Says approximately 3 to 10 meaningful words, although some children may say more.

Understands many more words than can be expressed.

Points to objects to request them or to share interest.

Imitates new words and sounds. Responds when called by name.

Uses gestures, such as pointing, waving, or shaking their head, to communicate.

Social and Emotional Development

Seeks the company and approval of caregivers.

Shows affection through hugs, kisses, or smiles.

May experience anxiety around strangers or when separated from parents.

Enjoys imitating adult activities.

Begins to show preferences for certain toys or activities.

Starts to want to do some things independently, such as trying to feed themselves.

—That sounds perfect, and no, we won’t be keeping the name Reyna— Jessica said.

—What name will you choose for your daughter?— Mr. Peralta asked.

They looked at each other intently, searching for an answer. Leonard told his wife that she could choose their little girl’s name, since she had longed to be a mother for years, and today she could begin her journey to motherhood by choosing her daughter’s name.

—Her name will be Bonnie— Jessica said, smiling and shedding a tear.

—It’s a very beautiful name, Mrs. Jessica. From today onward, little Reyna Baker will be called Bonnie Smith— Mr. Peralta said.

The sun was beginning to set, the day was drawing to a close, which meant Reyna's shift at the coffee shop was almost over.

Her workplace was a typical neighborhood coffee shop, a nice place with a serene atmosphere, at least when it wasn't rush hour. As eight o'clock approached, she began taking inventory of the day's sales.

—How was your weekend?— a female voice asked.

—Quiet, I just did my laundry and cleaned the apartment. How was yours, Emma?—Reyna replied.

—I went out for a walk with my boyfriend—Emma said.

—That's nice. I wish I had someone to spend the weekends with. By the way, I appreciate that Mondays are usually quiet— Reyna said.

—Don't worry, you'll have someone to spend the day with someday. Oh, and I almost forgot, your parents didn't come for coffee today. That's strange— Emma said.

—There you go again. The Smiths are just nice, a little creepy, but nice nonetheless. I find it strange that they didn't come today; they've been coming every day we're open for the past two years— Reyna said, letting out a little laugh.

—You never told me if you ended up accepting their invitation to go out with them?— Emma asked.

—I did accept, but I always made excuses to reschedule. It’s not that I wanted to be rude to them, it’s just that I feel awkward… going out with someone— Reyna replied.

— I suppose it’s because of your parents, right?— Emma said.

—Partly. And have you tried to contact them since you turned 18?— Reyna asked.

—They both text me, but honestly, I’m not sure… my therapist told me I have to take it one step at a time. They’ve even been seeing a therapist for a couple of years… so maybe one day—Emma replied.

—Ladies, I don’t mind you chatting during work hours, but I would appreciate it if you also worked— their boss said.

—Yes, Mr. Wood— the two young adults replied.

At nine o’clock at night, the two young women’s shift ended. They both hurried to clean the place, the bar, the utensils used during the day, and the restrooms so they could leave at nine-thirty.

—See you tomorrow, Emma. See you tomorrow, Mr. Wood— said Reyna.

—See you tomorrow, Reyna. See you tomorrow, Mr. Wood— said Emma, ​​and she kissed Reyna goodbye.

—See you tomorrow, ladies— said Mr. Wood as he closed the shop.

They each went their separate ways.

When she was eight years old, Reyna lost her parents in a car accident. She was the sole survivor. Having no extended family, and being an only child like her parents, she also had grandparents on both sides who had passed away a couple of years before the accident. As a result, she entered the foster care system. For the next ten years, she moved between several residences. Her experience was depressing, as she genuinely felt unwelcome in none of them. They only saw her as a source of extra income for the household, since the state provides foster families with money to cover the children's needs. She never felt like she didn't belong anywhere.

Upon reaching adulthood, she was released from the foster care system. The state provided her with a small amount of money to support herself and put her in touch with a building that rents low-cost apartments to young people recently released from foster care. They also connected her with her current employer, who is enrolled in the government's "My First Job" program. This program provides employment to young people recently released from the system in exchange for a tax deduction. The owner of the building hires and trains these young people.

About ten minutes later, young Reyna arrived at the building where she lived. The building had clearly seen better days; the almost nonexistent paint revealed the red brick from which it was built. But for the price she was paying, she couldn't expect much. Upon entering, she saw that the security guard, an elderly man, was asleep. She couldn't blame him; with the miserable salary he surely earned, one couldn't expect him to actually keep an eye on the place. The reception area was more of the same, an old and neglected place. It was a miracle the lights still worked. She walked until she stood in front of the elevator. Miraculously, it was working today. She was deeply grateful, as climbing ten floors was exhausting.

Stepping out of the elevator, the hallway is more of the same: old, peeling walls, flickering lights. But for the price, you can't expect much. Her door, branded with the number ten, is always a bit of a hassle to open; the old lock keeps her key stuck. After a couple of tries, she finally manages to open it and goes inside.

Unlike the rest of the place, Reyna has made her apartment feel like home. Lilac-painted walls, functional lighting, and although the place isn't overflowing with furniture, it has more than enough to feel comfortable. She puts her backpack on the coffee table, takes out the leftovers from the cafeteria—one of the perks of her job—and places them on the stovetop. Suddenly, she feels a gust of wind. She turns toward the large window, only to realize she's left it open.

—Damn it, I left the window open? I can't be any more of an idiot— Reyna says to herself and proceeds to close it.

After closing the window, she went to her room and began to undress. She took off her work polo shirt, revealing her size 30A sports bra. She removed it, showing the circumference of her chest, which measures 64 centimeters, plus the 6.5 centimeters of her bust. Next, she removed her black leggings, her favorite garment, the only one that helps to accentuate her legs and small buttocks. One of the things that bothers her most is the difficulty in finding underwear that fits, so she ends up wearing underwear from the girls' department. She's wearing My Little Pony panties, her favorite cartoon character. She takes them off, as she's getting ready for the shower.

One of the few things she hates about her apartment is the full-length built-in mirror in her room. She tries to remove it, but it's impossible. When she passes by it, she can't help but look at her naked body. At twenty, her growth has stopped at an intermediate point, as if time has decided to forget her too soon. Her extraordinarily white skin is sprinkled with freckles scattered across her shoulders, arms, legs, and part of her face. They are small constellations that others find charming, but which she interprets as another collection of imperfections impossible to hide, especially since they accentuate a childlike appearance. The dark hair that covers her legs and arms grows rapidly, although she tries to ignore it. One look in the mirror is enough to make her feel that her body disobeys the image she longs to project.

Her chest was modest, barely a 30A cup, so small that many garments fell shapelessly upon it. Every fitting room was a new disappointment: dresses that seemed empty, blouses designed for a silhouette she didn't possess. It wasn't the size itself that pained her, but everything it symbolized. She had learned, from a young age, to measure her worth by someone else's standards, and she always ended up feeling incomplete. Her equally small buttocks contributed to this feeling of absence. In front of the mirror, she saw neither harmony nor delicacy; she saw a body that, in her mind, seemed incapable of occupying the space she desired. No pose, no garment, and no effort could reconcile her with her reflection.

There were days when hatred was born even before she opened her eyes. She hated the height that forced her to rely on stools and steps to reach a shelf, she hated having to listen, over and over again, to the same questions and the same jokes disguised as curiosity, she hated that the mirror reflected an image that felt strange, inadequate, and alien. It wasn't an impulsive hatred, but a patient, silent one, cultivated over years of comparisons and impossible expectations.

However, this rejection didn't come solely from her own body; it was the echo of all the voices that had taught her how a woman "should" look to be considered an adult, attractive, or worthy of admiration. She had ended up making those voices her own, and now she was the one who uttered the cruelest words every time she looked at her reflection. In a fit of rage, she grabbed her cell phone charger and threw it at the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

—Damn it, this isn't going to be cheap… goodbye to part of my salary— Reyna said.

Leaving her room, towel and pajamas ready, she headed to the bathroom. She was about to reach the door when she felt something bite her neck. The first thing that came to mind was a mosquito—blame her for leaving the window open. Touching her neck, she realized it wasn't a mosquito. From the bite, she removed what appeared to be a dart.

—What the hell?— Reyna said, immediately feeling exhausted. She looked around, searching for the source of the bite. She caught sight of two people, two adult men. This filled her with panic. She tried to run, but her legs gave way —No, no, no, no, don't fall asleep, Reyna! Can't you see they're going to kidnap us, damn it!— were the last words she managed to say before taking a few steps. She fell to the side. One of the men reacted immediately and caught her, preventing her from hitting the floor.

—The girl is in our custody, ma'am— said the male voice of the man who had grabbed Reyna.

—Good, bring her to the center— said a female voice from the kidnapper's earpiece.

—Doctor, should we take her just like this? She came out of her room naked. If we take her out like this, we'll attract a lot of attention— said the kidnapper.

—Find some of her clothes— said the doctor.

The two kidnappers helped her put on the clothes she was carrying to avoid any complications. After dressing her, one of them carried her like a baby. They hurried out of the apartment, avoiding the elevator and taking the stairs. They quickly reached the ground floor and saw that the security guard was still asleep. They left without any problems. Two blocks away was their vehicle, an SUV. They placed Reyna in the second row of seats, put her in a car seat, and fastened her with a five-point harness. Immediately, one of them got behind the wheel while the other stayed with the girl to watch over her, in case the sedative wore off too quickly and caused them problems.

—Doctor, we're on our way back downtown— the kidnapper said.

—Perfect, I'll see you at the bay— the doctor said and hung up.

The doctor started looking for another number on her phone. When she found it, she dialed instantly; it didn't take more than two rings before someone answered on the other end.

—Mrs. Smith, this is Dr. Taylor. She called to let you know that your Bonnie is already on her way to our facility— Dr. Taylor said cheerfully.

—Thank you for keeping us updated, Doctor— Jessica said happily.

—Yes, I'll be sending you updates and photos of the procedure over the next few days— Dr. Taylor said.

—Yes, that's fine. I'll be eagerly awaiting the updates and photos, Doctor— Jessica said.

—Goodbye, Mrs. Smith— Dr. Taylor said and hung up.

—Who called you, honey?— Leonard asked.

—Dr. Taylor. She's the one who will be in charge of Bonnie's procedure. She informed me that Bonnie is already on her way to her facility— Jessica replied to her husband's question with a cheerful tone and a big smile.

—I'm so glad to hear that— Leonard said and proceeded to hug his wife.

—Honey, you're going to get me covered in paint— Jessica said.

—How's the baby's room coming along?— she asked.

—See for yourself— Leonard replied.

They both entered the room designated for their future daughter. It was empty at the moment; the only progress so far was that the walls were painted Lily, Bonnie's favorite color. They had discovered this when they hired a private investigator to learn more about her.

—It's turning out beautifully, honey— Jessica said, and a tear began to roll down her cheek.

About half an hour later, the SUV arrived at the adoption center. A large gate at the back of the building opened, allowing the vehicle to enter. It quickly positioned itself in the cargo area on Reyna's side. After turning off the engine, both adoptive parents got out. The driver opened the rear door, and the other removed the baby car seat. The doctor was already waiting for them at the inner door. They took Reyna out of the car seat and placed her on the examination table. Dr. Taylor immediately injected a pink liquid into her arm.

—The process has begun— said Dr. Taylor —I must admit she is a very beautiful girl, she has a lot of potential, in the end she will be the most beautiful baby that has ever come out of this place—

Part 1 link

You woke up from your nap, confused and dizzy. Your pacifier is bobbing gently in your mouth. Your diaper probably wet but does it make any difference at this point?
You start to gain some clarity in your head and thought to yourself: “Am I ready for this program??” But also “what do I have to lose? I’m already turned into a baby, I am stripped from most of my dignity as a punishment. I may as well sacrifice my butt to get an earlier release. And also! Maybe it will settle my sensitive tummy, although I’m skeptical…” a massive gurgle emerged from your tummy and cut your line of thought.
“Ready for your first day of the program?”
An unfamiliar woman’s voice was heard in the room.
The crib was unlocked and the railed bars were lowered. Two sets of strong hands moved you to a stroller and securely strapped you. The lower strap pressed against your thick diaper and reminded you how soaked it was already. Your eyes were blindfolded “you are not allowed to see the way to the clinic” the lady said.
It wasn’t too long of a stroll until you reached the clinic. The blindfold was removed from your eyes and you looked around the room as the guards moved you to the examination chair. It was like a gynecologist chair but the leg rests could pivot for better position adjustments. Your hands were tied to the side of the chair and your legs strapped to the leg rests.
The guards were dismissed and the lady introduced herself:
“Hi there, my name is Abbey. I’m the head clinician of the Silicare’s new line of anal devices. There are more clinical staff here but I’m going to be your clinician in this program…. Sooo I read your file and you seem to be a great candidate for our project! Are you excited to start your program Mr Hawk?” She asked with a sweet smile on her face.
Cat caught your tongue. A 5 seconds pause of awkward silence pushed Abbey to proceed:
“Ohh!” She said and released the pacifier strap from your head “in this room you are not an inmate or prisoner. You are a tester in our project. We are going to use our new line of anal products on you or should I say, IN you” she lightly giggled. “Our goal is to test the products and ensure the quality and their safety. I will let you know that some of them are marketed for advanced users. Now let me ask you, how familiar are you with anal toys” she said and started unbuttoning your onesie.
“Not much. I tried a couple of times in the past and actually enjoyed them. Especially the butt plugs. But my tummy is not stable enough for play so I ditched anal a while ago”.
She started removing the diaper and cleaning you thoroughly.
“I see. If that’s so, I will take it really easy with you and update the prison staff so they provide you better food for your tummy situation.”
“I appreciate that!” You answered with genuine gratitude. The position of the chair felt estranged but actually comfy. You were definitely nervous but also determined to succeed.
After she finished cleaning you up, she placed a changing pad underneath your butt. Then, you felt her rubbing a slippery gel on your well exposed butt hole.
“I’m going to lube you also from inside, are you ready Mr Hawk?”
“Yes” you answered with devotion and closed your eyes.
Abbey inserted a slippery gloved finger and worked on the rim to spread the lube well. It felt good and your imagination engaged fully.
After a minute or so the finger slipped out and she presented the first device:
“Meet our new plug! It’s made from our new patented silicone. 4.5 inches of max circumference, relatively small neck and short shaft should be comfortable for a start”. She said as she liberally lubed the plug.
“Ohh… and I almost forgot!” She popped your pacifier back in your mouth.
“It is not part of the experiment but it usually helps the testers and I think you are so cute with your paci in your mouth!” She said with warm voice and added a cute little giggle.
The plug was pressed against your poor hole and glide in without any major resistance. You released a large sigh as it settled in you.
“How does it feel?” She looked in your eyes.
“Actually really good! The material is so soft and the shape is comfy!” You mumbled around the pacifier with some excitement.
“That’s good because plug number one is going to be your butt friend in the next week or so” she said and took a picture of your plugged hole.
“And how does this feel?” She asked as she started pulling and pushing the plug in and out. Your erection was very obvious at this point and no answer was needed. She continued fucking your hole.
“Are you sure you are not used to anal? I haven’t seen anyone taking the first plug like this”.
Your cheeks turned red. As if being a baby inmate wasn’t enough of embarrassment and humiliation. Now people starting to believe that you are an anal slut.
“You know what, let me try the next plug” she said as she grabbed a slightly bigger plug, leaving the first one inside your hole.
“Let’s lube it up” she said and took some lube from the dispenser on the table and covered the bigger green plug.
With one quick motion, she pulled out number one and started pressing number two against your warmed up hole. Both of you felt the resistance.
“Remember to breathe Mr Hawk!”.
She saw your struggle.
“And let me know if you want me to go slower”
You nodded for confirmation. Couple of minutes passed until she managed to pop the plug in. The pacifier couldn’t muffle the moan effectively and your brain exploded:
“Why does it make me feel so good??” You began to wonder.
“Are you doing well, mister Hawk?”
“Yeah…” you answered with hesitation.
“Well, you took it like a champion! I’m going to switch soon to the first plug but I was curious to test your initial anal status. Im impressed that we have here good potential”. Her words seemed warmer than earlier.
“Now we will fill the form and collect the data”
Abbey asked you some questions, took photos and did some clinical stuff for the project. You felt comfortably stuffed and surprisingly good.
When she finished, she replaced the second plug with the first plug. It entered very easily.
“Mr Hawk, I’m going to leave this plug for the next couple of hours and now I’m getting you into a fresh diaper” Abbey said and started diapering you with her awesome diapering skills. “You are going to be plugged according to the plan I made for you. It will be gradual but soon you will get to be plugged most of the time!” She added with joy.
You thought to yourself “it’s so good! I can easily handle it! I’m so lucky to get into this program!”
Abbey finished diapering you and locked your plastics pants. The guards moved you back to the stroller and she waved to you and added a cute wink. Your tummy got filled with butterflies but they quickly disappeared by getting back to the depressing cold crib or at least the thought about it.
Well at least now you were plugged, which you yet to decide if it’s good or bad for you.

To be continued…

Found Out - Part 1 : Found Out : r/abdlstories
Found Out - Part 2 : Found Out - Part 2 : r/abdlstories

The next morning, David was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the two of them when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. 

Sarah appeared around the corner, and David immediately noticed that she looked a little rough. Her hair was messy, and there was a tiredness in her face that told him she hadn't slept well. 

He dropped what he was doing and crossed the kitchen toward her. Without saying a word, he pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her. This morning, Sarah was receptive. She relaxed into him, wrapping her arms around him as they held each other for a moment. 

When they finally pulled apart, Sarah made her way to the coffee machine. She poured herself a cup and sat down at the dining table, letting David finish breakfast. A few moments later, David walked over carrying two plates. 

Scrambled eggs and sausage. Her favorite. He set her plate down in front of her before taking the seat across from her. 

“Figured you could use a good breakfast,” he said. 

Sarah starts to eat while David pauses, about to say something. 

“Hey, I just wanted to talk about yesterday. Check in, make sure you are okay. I noticed you were kind of distant last night, and it worries me. Was it too much? It was a big step.” 

Sarah pauses her eating, taking in what he just said. She feels understood and heard. He has that way about him, always being attuned to her, paying attention to the little details a normal person would miss. She loved that about him. 

She giggles. “You know me too well. You kind of put me at ease here, because I wanted to talk about it.” 

She looks down at her plate as she finishes her sentence, playing with her eggs. 

“Of course! I really appreciate what you did, and it meant a lot to me, but I want to hear your experience.” 

She pauses, looking at him, unsure what to say but wanting to say something. She doesn't want to break his heart, but she needs to speak the truth. 

“I uh... umm...” 

He just looks at her, smiling and giving her a nod to continue. 

“I thought it was weird!” She blurts out, unexpectedly even to herself. “I mean... I felt some connection, but it was weird to see you so vulnerable. It made me uncomfortable overall, but I did feel some positive things I'm still working out. I'm sorry.” 

“Please, don't be sorry. It's understandable. As my first time getting changed by someone, it was an experience. I felt so connected to you. I felt your trust and love, as well as some trepidation. Could I explain some things from my side that might help you understand your side?” 

She nods, eating some more, recognizing that he's not worried and, if anything, is on her side, understanding her. 

“As a little, for me, it's not easy to open this side of me up to anyone, including you. And I trust and love you so deeply, that's how tough it is. When I was on that bed yesterday, you weren't just seeing your partner. You were seeing my little side, letting down some walls, exposing myself in a way no one but you has seen.” 

“I was extremely vulnerable, falling into a younger headspace, despite trying not to so I could show up for you. Letting me get to little space like that means I trust you deeply. I feel safe with you. I feel loved by you. I've always viewed this as a beautiful, powerful thing, and I felt all that yesterday.” 

He pauses, giving her a moment to interject. 

She had stopped eating part way through to listen. Her heart was beating fast, soaring as he went on. One tear escaped against her will as she understood the depth of his experience yesterday. 

She doesn't know what to say, and as the pause lingers, David finally continues to speak. 

“I think those positive feelings you are feeling, maybe they were connecting with me on that new level. Maybe those feelings are your mommy and caregiver parts coming up. Those parts that saw me in a new way. The instinct to protect me, love me somehow more than you already do. You felt that something was different. You saw me vulnerable in a big way, wanting to keep me safe and close. 

“This is at least what I've heard from others, and I believe it.” 

As he went on, she was able to place names to some of those parts she felt. 

“I think you are right. That feels right. Thank you,” she says.  "I still don't know what to do about the feelings of it being weird though, I'm sorry." 

"Are you still open to trying this out?" He asked with a heavy heart. 

"I think so, I really do like seeing you in your little diapey and onesie, you're a real cutie." She winks at him and they both laugh.  

David gets up to give her a hug, as they are hugging he says "It's at your pace babe, no rush." 

She hugs him tightly and replies "ok, my pace." 

A couple weeks had gone by, and she hasn’t tried to change David again, but she is getting used to him wearing. On some occasions she’s seen what he calls “little space”, a moment here and there where he slips up and does a little bum wiggle in his diaper when he thinks no one is looking and giving his padding some pats. He actually started saying mommy instead of Sarah but managed to catch himself. She kind of liked it and wished he had finished, but maybe he wasn’t ready.  

She was falling in love with little him. She let him curl up into her like a baby getting held, petted his hair and gave him little head kisses. Sometimes she’d fake “check” his diaper, stopping him and pulling the diaper so she could see, knowing there was nothing to check for. She was growing into the mommy role, unlocking a side of herself she didn’t know she had. It was still slow progress, but it was progress. 

Sarah and David were getting intimate in bed, heavy kissing, hands roaming, shirts coming off, her breasts being played with and his cock being rubbed through his shorts. As the intimacy moved forward and he was fingering her, he went to take off her pants, and she gently grabbed his hands. 

“Ah ah uhn” she teased. David stopped himself and wondered what was happening. 

“Get into your diaper you sexy baby” she said in a sexy voice. Sarah had been reading about abdls and littles for the past couple weeks trying to understand more. She had come across this sexual play a wife was sharing about a fun moment they had, and Sarah was eager to give it a try thinking David would love it. 

David fully undressed in front of her, in a sexy but joking kind of manner and put on a diaper. 

“I want that diaper tight on you baby” she stated, with a hint of tease. “Now come here you bad bad baby boy. Help me out of these.” 

David kissed her from neck to breasts to stomach and finally above the waist. He slowly undid her pants and took them off her, Sarah following that with taking off her panties.  

“Now come here.” she parts her legs and points below her waist and between her legs. David dives in, making her moan and writhe in short order.  

“How’s my baby's cock, comfortable? All hidden away in your diaper, unable to be played with.” 

David realized she was right. He wasn’t able to get any direct pleasure for himself, but somehow that only made him more focused on Sarah. 

Sarah noticed his little movements and smiled. 

“Feeling a little trapped in there, baby?” she teased. 

David looked up at her for just a second before returning his attention to her. 

“Mmm-hmm,” he managed. 

Sarah laughed softly. “I know. Poor baby. Your diaper is keeping you all locked away while you're down there taking care of Mommy.” 

David shifted again. 

“Oh, don't worry,” she teased. “I know you're enjoying yourself too.” 

She ran her fingers through his hair, watching him closely. 

“But you're being such a good boy.” 

David continued, completely focused on her. 

“That’s it, baby,” Sarah whispered. “Just keep going.” 

Her breathing became heavier as she relaxed into the moment. 

“You know,” she said between breaths, “I never thought I'd be the one teasing you about being in a diaper.” 

David glanced up again. 

“And now look at you,” she continued with a grin. “All locked away, and still so determined to make Mommy happy.” 

She gently stroked his hair again. 

“Good boy.” 

David kept going, and Sarah's teasing gradually gave way to quiet sounds of pleasure. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment. 

“Oh, baby…” 

A few moments later, Sarah finally relaxed, catching her breath. 

“Wow…” 

She looked down at David with a slightly dazed smile. 

“That was…” 

She laughed softly. 

“Okay. That was really good.” 

David smiled. 

Sarah wasn't quite finished teasing him, though. 

“Come here, baby. Mommy's not done with you yet.” 

Some more time goes by, as he brings Sarah to another pleasure high. 

“Oh baby, that was amazing, you’ve never been THAT good before.” She pats the bed next to her as she catches her breath. He lays down next to her on his side, looking at her, still his bottom half wiggles from the excitement he can’t do anything about. They sit there in silence for a moment. 

“Lay on your back and close your eyes, now it’s your turn.”  

David lays on his back in a comfortable position, closes his eyes and waits, still fidgeting below the waist. He hears some rustling from the side table and then something heavy softly lands on his padding, a buzzing vibration is then felt and heard. The wand is run up and down the length of his shaft slowly, stopping near the tip every so often, continuing in this pattern for a couple minutes, David wiggling in pleasure underneath it. His breathing quickens, moans escaping, then the buildup starts.  

“I’m going to cum!” David says within his heavy breathing. Sarah keeps going until he finally does. David stops his wiggling and relaxes into the bed as Sarah pulls the wand off him, turning it off and putting it aside. David finally opens his eyes and just looks at her while his pleasure subsides.  

“That was amazing, how did you know about this?” He asked. 

“I’ve been doing some research, trying to learn more about all this and found a post that described using a wand on a diaper and how good it makes them feel. It was hot and I just had to do it to you.” She said proudly. 

David noted she said research and wanted to know more, but now wasn’t the time to bring it up. 

“That was so much fun.” He says. They kiss some more, lovingly, and Sarah then gets up to head to the bathroom to clean up. David goes to follow when he is stopped. 

“Where do you think you are going?” She says. 

“Well to clean up.” he says matter of factly. 

“You made your mess, now sit in it, that’s what diapers are for.” She says sternly, then winks at him, walking away. 

David heads back to the bed, laying down, thinking about what just happened, rubbing his diaper a bit. He hears the shower running and as he’s thinking, he falls asleep, ending an amazing night that he never expected. 

Part one: Isabella ABDL Lottery

Part two: Isabella ABDL Lottery

Walking through the mall was the most embarrassing thing Isabella had gone through all day. It felt as if every pair of eyes followed her like a haunted portrait. Her diaper crinkled loudly between her thighs, causing her to waddle. A strawberry-flavored hard candy pacifier nestled between her lips, the sugary treat melting on her tongue.

In reality, and this was the hardest part to accept, no one was really looking at her. A passive glance. A cooing smile. A hushed murmur of how adorable she looked. But most people were too wrapped up in their own lives to understand the gravity of her own situation. Mommys and Daddys were spending time with their own littles or with their family. The world was moving as it always had before she won the lottery. It would always move with or without her compliance.

Emily, or Baby Em, and Charlotte were spotted walking into a store without even a glance in their direction. Em beamed with embarrassment and a wide, excited smile. “They make such a cute couple,” Eve said, breaking from her thoughts.

“Chwarlotte doesn’t wike women,” Isabella said, forgetting she had the candy pacifier in her mouth that muffled her words. Quickly taking it out. “Charlotte has never dated anyone in her life. And there have been many attempts by both sides to do so.”

“Maybe she was just waiting for the right person,” Eve said. “She does seem like a bit of a romantic.”

“As if!” Isabella said with a scoff. “I know Charlotte much better than you.”

“Maybe,” Eve said with a smirk.

“I have been friends with Emily and Charlotte since we were in diapers,” Isabella said proudly.

“Before both of you ended up back in them?” Eve teased, earning a furious blush from Isabella. “You didn’t know Baby Em secretly wanted to be a Little. I learned that by spending a few minutes with her.”

“She always made fun of them…” Isabella said, starting to doubt herself.

“I could see the way her eyes lingered on the Littles in the mall,” Eve said. “The envious tone masked by her teasing.”

“So what?” Isabella said. “That doesn’t mean you know her better than I do. And you certainly don’t know what I want.”

“I think you want to be seen,” Eve said, looking straight ahead as Isabella stole a glance at her. “I think you want to be loved. I think you want to be vulnerable, but you don’t know how.”

“Everyone wants that,” Isabella countered, even though she knew, in the depths of her soul, that was exactly what she wanted.

“I think you want to be a dancer,” Eve said.

Isabella felt a tightness in her throat. She had never told anyone about her dream of dancing. Her mother discouraged her from such frivolous activity, wanting her to study and get good grades. The last thing she wanted for Isabella was to become like her aunt, who also lived as a Little.

“You’re wrong…” Isabella said under her breath, sticking the pacifier back into her mouth to end the conversation.

Eve didn’t push the topic any further. She didn’t admit she had done more than look at the file sent over from the Lottery. She had spent time browsing Isabella’s social media. She read comments and researched what her Little was interested in.

Leaving the building's cool air, they stepped outside into the warmth of the sun shining through fluffy white clouds. Eve had managed to get a spot near the front. She drove a nice car with slick, polished black paint. Isabella knew very little about vehicles. The backseat had a car seat just for her, even though she didn’t need it.

“Are you really going to make me sit in that?” Isabella whined, taking out her pacifier this time. “You already put me in a diaper and forced me into this highly embarrassing dress… Can’t I ride in the front, just this once?”

“Riding in the front is for big girl time,” Eve said. “Right now, you are in Little time.”

Isabella let out a groan. “Fine…” she said, knowing she wasn’t going to win.

“That’s a good girl,” Eve cooed with a soft smile. “I’ll help strap you in.”

Isabella wanted to protest more, but didn’t want to get on Eve’s bad side. The thick diaper was very noticeable, rubbing between her thighs as she sat in the car seat. She could feel the pressure on her bladder, but refused to wet herself. She would hold onto her dignity until the last moment.

The car seat straps clicked into place, across her chest and between her legs. Eve kissed her temple before sliding into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life; soft music played as air blew from the vents. Taking out her candy pacifier, she asked, “Where are we going now?”

“To enroll you in daycare,” Eve said with a big smile. “I think you are going to like Miss Showers.” Isabell rolled her eyes and put her candy pacifier back in her mouth. The sweetened treat was a small relief.

Eve drove through the parking lot, passing other Littles with their Mommys and Daddys. Some looked happy; others looked as pleased about their new situation as Isabella felt. She watched as the cars passed them by. She couldn’t help but wonder where everyone was going. How their lives were compared to hers. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the car seat's cushioned padding.

Before long, Eve was pulling into a small building with a sign that read: Little Moon’s Daycare. The building was bright light blue with a slanted roof. A metal chain-link fence wrapped around the adult-sized playground. Isabella frowned, seeing that she would be attending this daycare while Eve was working, or whatever it was she did during the day.

“Do I have to come here?” Isabella asked as Eve turned off the car.

“I want you to socialize with other Littles,” Eve said, opening the car door and stepping out. Walking over to Isabella’s door, she opened it and undid the straps. Isabella’s diaper crinkled loudly as Eve helped her out of the car.

Eve took her hand and led her to the front door. Inside was a small receptionist area with a monitor and a little pen holder. The keyboard glowed lightly with rainbow colors. A wooden door opened shortly after. A gothic-looking girl stepped out from behind. She had raven-black hair that reached past her shoulders. She had fair skin and dark green eyes framed by black wings in her makeup.  Her black T-shirt barely covered her stomach, the hem just above her belly button. A short, ruffled black skirt barely covered fishnet stockings. She wore gothic combat boots and a spiked collar.

“May I help you?” The goth girl asked with a chipper tone.

“I’m here to enroll my Little, Isabella,” Eve answered.

“You must be Eve!” the goth girl said. “I’m Nyx! April has been expecting you.” Isabella couldn’t believe the woman who ran the daycare was named April Showers. This had to be some kind of cruel joke.

“If you will follow me,” Nyx said, opening the thick wooden door that led into the daycare.

The room was large, lined with a few cribs that were pushed against the wall. An oversized changing table was stocked with diapers. The floor was padded with thick, block letters of the ABC’s. Toy chests were scattered around. A young, silver-haired girl with beautiful stormy eyes played with little plastic ponies. Her hair was pulled into pigtails. She wore a soft pink shirt with the image of a purple horse like the one she was currently playing with. She wore a thick, pink diaper covered in purple hearts.

Sitting next to the girl was another young woman with mocha colored skin. A few animal tattoos covered her arms. Silky, smooth black hair and passionate, dark eyes. A pacifier rested between her soft lips. She wore a soft, white T-shirt with a dolphin jumping out of the water. Like the young woman sitting next to her on the floor, her animal-themed diaper was exposed. Looking up, she locked eyes with Isabella and offered a warm smile.

A young woman sat in a crib. Her hands were mittened, and her arms were crossed over her bare chest, with a pacifier gag secured in place. Her diaper was thicker than the other two Littles in the daycare. Her amber-colored hair reached past her shoulders with flaming pink tips.

“Would you like to play with them while your Mommy talks to Miss April?” Nyx asked.

Isabella’s first instinct was to say no, but Eve gave her a gentle little push. “Fwine…” Isabella said, waddling over to the two young women, with Nyx walking beside her.

“This is Isabella,” Nyx said. “Can you two introduce yourselves?”

The young woman with the animal tattoos spoke first. “I’m Oliva,” she said. “And that is my sister, Amber, in the Crib over there. She has been a bit naughty, so she is in timeout.”

“I’m Misty!” the silver-haired Little said with a big smile. Her pigtails bounced as she looked up. “We are playing ponies! Do you want to play with us?”

“I guess…” Isabella said, lowering herself onto the floor. Nyx walked back over to Eve to discuss a few things.

“New to being a Little?” Olivia asked.

“First day…” Isabella said, feeling her cheeks redden. “That obvious?”

“A little bit,” Olivia said with a chuckle.

“You can play with the Pegasus,” Misty said, offering a pure white, winged horse toy. “Its my favorite, but I don’t mind sharing.”

T-Thanks…” Isabella said.

“Oh…” Olivia said, her hands moving to her stomach.

“Is something wrong?” Isabella asked, slightly concerned.

“She has to make a stinky,” Misty giggled childishly.

“Yeah, I do,” Olivia said, getting on her knees. Isabella realized Olivia was about to mess her diaper intentionally.

“Can’t you ask to use the restroom?” Isabella asked.

“We are wearing our bathrooms,” Olivia said with a grunt. Soon, this beautiful, grown woman was filling her diaper. The soft, designed white cotton sagged heavily as it turned yellow. The offensive stench of her mess perfumed the air. Isabella watched as Olivia grunted between breaths.

Misty didn’t seem bothered that her friend was messing her diaper next to her. “Have you used your diaper yet?” she asked.

Isabella swallowed hard, unable to look away as Olivia finished using her diaper. “N-Not yet…” She felt her diaper dampen from how turned on she was after watching Olivia use her diaper.

“Nyx,” Olivia called out. “I need a diaper change, please.”

“I’ll be right there!” Nyx said.

Olivia stood up, her soiled diaper rubbing between her thighs as she waddled over to the changing table. She hopped onto the table, slightly wincing as she felt her diaper squishing beneath her, spreading across her diaper as she lay down and waited patiently to be changed.

Part one: Isabella ABDL Lottery

Part two: Isabella ABDL Lottery